ft;  !■}!!  Ij  ip  ii 


"111 


AT    LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

G,     De   Garmo 


C. 


MARIA  THERESA. 


JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT 


^n  ^^istorical  Noocl 


BY 

L.   MUHLBACH 

AUTHOR    OF 

FREDERICK    THE    GREAT    AND    HIS    COURT,    THE    MERCHANT    OF    BERLIN,    BERLIN    AND    SANS-SOUCI, 

FREDERICK   THE   GREAT   AND   HIS   FAMILY,    STORY   OF   A   MILLIONAIRE,    TWO    LIFE   PATHS,    ETC. 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    GERMAN 

By   ADELAIDE   DeV.  CHAUDRON 


•*'..' 


NEW    YORK 

A.    L.    POWLE,    Publisher 
1904 


Copyright,  1865, 
By  S.   H.   GOETZEL. 

Copyright,  1867,  1893, 
By  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


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PC        Ol>«.t««.«C' 


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CHAPTER 
I. 
II. 
III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 


XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII. 


MARIA   THERESA. 


The  Conference, 

The  Letter,    . 

Tlie  Toilet  of  the  Empress, 

Husband  and  Wife, 

The  Archduke  Joseph, 

Kaunitz, 

The  Toilet, 

The  Red  Stockings,     . 

New  Austria,     . 


PA6B 
1 

.       9 

14 
.     16 

23 
.     27 

29 
.    33 

34 


ISABELLA. 


The  Young  Soldier, 

The  Empress  and  her  Son, 

An  Italian  Knight, 

Isabella  of  Parma, 

The  Ambassador  Extraordinary, 

The  Dream  of  Love,  . 

Gluck,    

The  New  Opera, 

Raniero  von  Calzabigi, 

The  Birthday,    . 

Orpheus  and  Eurydice, 

"  In  Three  Years,  we  meet  again, " 

Che  Faro  Senza  Eurydice,    . 


39 

43 
50 
53 
56 
60 
66 
70 
73 
75 
79 
84- 
89 


KING    OF   ROME. 

Father  Porhammer  and  Count  Kaunitz,      .         .         .95 

Matrimonial  Plans,   .......  98 

Josepha  of  Bavaria, 106 

The  Marriage  Night, 110 

An  Unhappy  Marriage,         .         .         .         .         .         .116 

A  Statesman's  Hours  of  Dalliance,   ....  120 

Prince  Kaunitz  and  Ritter  Gluck,        ....  125 

An  Unfortunate  Meeting, 129 

Mourning, 131 

The  Imperial  Abbess, 136 

The  Co- Regent, 140 

iii 


iv 

CONTENTS. 

rnAPTF.R 

PAGE 

XXXIV. 

Haroim  al  Raschid,         .... 

.       145 

XXXV. 

Tlie  Disguise  Removed,      .... 

.  149 

XXXVI. 
XXXVIT 

Rosary  and  Sceptre,        .... 
The  Difference  between  an  Abbess  and  an 

151 
Empress,   153 

XXXVIIJ 
XXXIX 
XL. 

The  Reigning  Empress, 

Tlie  Co-Regent  Deposed,    .... 

Mother  and  Son, 

.       156 

.  162 

.       166 

XLI. 

Death  of  the  Liberator,      .... 

.   170 

XLII. 

The  Mirror, 

.       174 

XLIII. 

The  Interview  with  Kaimitz,     . 

.  179 

XLIV. 

XLV. 

XL  VI. 

The  Archduchess  Josepha, 

The  Departure, 

Inoculation 

.       185 

.  188 
.       190 

XL  VII. 

An  Adventure,   ...... 

.  197 

XLVIII. 

The  Judgment  of  Solomon,    . 

.       203 

XLIX. 

Two  Affianced  Queens,       .... 

.  207 

EMPEROR   OF  AUSTRIA. 

L.  The  Dinner  at  the  French  Ambassador's, 

LI.  Marianne's  Disappearance, 

LII.  Count  Falkenstein, 

LIII.  What  they  foimd  at  Wichern 

LIV.  The  Somnambulist, 

LV.  The  Prophecy,    . 

LVI.  The  Gift, 

LVII.  The  Conference, 

LVIII.  Kaunitz, 

LIX.  Souvenir  d'Eperies,   . 

LX.  Frederick  the  Great, 

LXI.  The  Prima  Donna 

LXII.  Frederick  the  Great  and  Prince  Kaunitz, 

LXIII.  Russia  a  Foe  to  all  Europe, 

LXIV.  The  Map  of  Poland 

LXV.  Tlie  Countess  Wielopolska, 

LXVI.  The  Emperor  and  the  Countess,     . 

LXVII.  Maria  Theresa 

LXVIII.  Marie  Antoinette  and  Court  Etiquette, 

LXIX.  The  Triumph  of  Diplomacy,      . 

LXX.  Gossip,     .         .    • 

LXXI.  An  Explanation,         .... 

LXXII.  Famine  in  Bohemia,       .... 

LXXIII.  Tlie  Black  Broth,        .... 

LXXIV.  Tlie  Extortioners  of  Quality, 

LXXV.  Diplomatic  Esoterics, 

LXXVI.  Russia  Speaks,         ..... 

LXXVII.  The  Last  Petition,      .... 

LXXVIII.  Finis  Polonise,         ..... 

LXXIX.  The  I\Iad  Countess,     .... 

LXXX.  The  Betrotlial 

LXXXI.  Franz  Anthony  Mesmer,     . 

LXXXII.  Theresc  von  Paradies,     .... 

LXXXIII.  The  First  Day  of  Light,      . 


312 
216 
220 
223 

228 
233 
238 
240 
243 
245 
248 
251 
256 
358 
262 
266 
269 
273 
275 

2-:  8 

381 
387 
292 
296 
300 
306 
310 
315 
318 
322 
327 
330 
331 
335 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

LXXXIV.  Diplomatic  Strategy,  . 

LXXXV.  Dominus  ac  Kedem[)tor  Noster, 

LXXXVI.  Heart- Struggles,  . 

LXXXVII.  The  Forced  Bridal,  .         , 

LXXXVIII.  Prince  Louis  de  Rohan, 

LXXXIX.  The  Poles  at  Vienna, 

XG.  The  Last  Farewell, 

XCI.  The  Concert,    .... 

XCII.  The  Catastrophe,  . 


PAGE 
341 

342 
347 

,  350 
354 
360 
365 

.  368 
374 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE. 

XCIII. 

"  Le  Roi  est  Mort,  Vive  le  Roi !  "    . 

.  377 

XCIV. 

The  Memoranda,           ..... 

.       381 

xcv. 

France  and  Austria,         .... 

.  384 

xcvi. 

The  King's  List, 

.       388 

XCVII. 

The  First  Pas(iuinade 

.  390 

XCVIII. 

The  New  Fasliions 

.       393 

XCIX. 

The  Temple  of  Etiquette, 

.  396 

c. 

The  New  Fashions  and  their  Unhappy  Resu 

Its,         399 

CI. 

Sunrise, 

.  401 

CIL 

The  Following  Day 

.       406 

cm. 

The  Last  Api)eal, 

.  410 

CIV. 

The  Flight, 

.       413 

cv. 

Joseph  in  France, 

.  415 

CVI. 

The  Godfather, 

.       418 

evil. 

The  Godfather 

.  420 

CVIII. 

The  Arrival  at  Versailles,   .... 

.       422 

CIX. 

Count  Falkenstein  in  Paris,    . 

.  426 

ex. 

The  Queen  and  the  "  Dames  de  la  Halle, "    . 

.       431 

CXI. 

The  Adopted  Son  of  the  Queen, 

.  435 

CXII. 

"  Chantons,  celebrons  notre  Reine, "   . 

.       437 

CXIII. 

The  Hotel  Turenne,         .... 

.  440 

CXIV. 

The  Denouement,         ..... 

.       443 

cxv. 

The  Parting, 

.  445 

CXVI. 

Joseph  and  Louis,        ..... 

.       448 

CXVII. 

The  Promenade  and  the  Epigram, 

.  450 

CXVIII. 

The  Dinner  en  Famille,        .... 

.       454 

CXIX. 

A  Visit  to  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau, 

.  459 

cxx. 

The  Parting 

.       463 

CXXI. 

Death  of  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,     . 

.  468 

CXXII. 

A  Page  from  History,          .... 

.       475 

CXXIII. 

The  Emperor  as  Commander-in-Chief, 

.  477 

CXXIV. 

Secret  Negotiations  for  Peace,     . 

.       479 

cxxv. 

Fraternal  Discord, 

.  483 

CXXVI. 

The  Defeat, 

.       488 

CXXVII. 

The  Revenge,  ...... 

.  492 

CXXVIII. 

A  Letter  to  the  Empress  of  Russia,      . 

.       497 

CXXIX. 

The  Gratitude  of  Princes, 

.   500 

CXXX. 

Frederick  the  Great,    ..... 

.       503 

CXXXI. 

"  The  Darkest  Hour  is  before  Day, " 

.   506 

CXXXII. 

The  Emperor  and  his  Mother,     . 

.      509 

VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

CXXXIII.  Prince  Potemkin, 

CXXXIV.  The  Prussian  Ambassador, 

CXXXV.  The  Austrian  Ambassador,  . 

CXXXVI.  The  Empress  Catharine,  . 

CXXXVII.  The  Czarina  and  her  Master, 

CXXXVIII.  A  Diplomatic  Defeat,      . 

CXXXIX.  The  Czarina  and  the  Kaiser, 


PAGE 

513 
,  516 
520 
,  525 
528 
532 
535 


THE  EEIGN  OF  JOSEPH. 

CXL. 

The  Oath, 541 

CXLI. 

Prince  Kaunitz 

.       543 

CXLII. 

The  Banker  and  his  Daughter, 

.  547 

CXLIII. 

The  Countess  Baillou, 

551 

CXLIV. 

The  Expulsion  of  the  Clarisserines, 

.  554 

CXLV. 

Count  Podstadsky's  Escort, 

557 

CXLVI. 

The  Lampoon,          .... 

.   559 

CXLVII. 

The  Petitioners,   ..... 

562 

CXLVIII. 

The  Petitioners,       .... 

.   564 

CXLIX. 

The  Lady  Patroness,    .... 

567 

CL. 

Mother  and  Son,      .... 

.   570 

CLI. 

The  Two  Oaths, 

574 

CLII. 

New-fashioned  Obsequies, 

.   578 

CLIII. 

The  Pope  in  Vienna,     .... 

.       582 

CLIV. 

The  Flight 

.  585 

CLV. 

The  Marriage  Before  God,     . 

.       590 

CLVI. 

The  Park, 

.  591 

CLVII. 

The  Parting 

.       594 

CLV  III. 

Cohmel  Szekuly,       .... 

.   597 

CLIX. 

The  Pope's  Departure, 

.       601 

CLX. 

The  Repulse, 

.  607 

CLXI. 

The  Count  in  the  Pillory,     . 

.       610 

CLXII. 

The  Nemesis,    ..... 

.  614 

CLXIII. 

Horja  and  the  Rebellion  in  Hungary, 

.       617 

CLXIV. 

The  Jew's  Revenge, 

.  619 

CLXV. 

The  Favor  of  Princes, 

.       625 

CLXVI. 

The  Deputation  from  Hungary, 

.  629 

CLXVII. 

The  Recompense,          .... 

.       632 

CLXVIII. 

The  Rebellion  in  the  Netherlands, 

.  638 

CLXIX. 

The  Imperial  Suitor,    .... 

.       642 

CLXX. 

The  Last  Dream  of  Love, 

.  645 

CLXXI. 

Tlie  Turkish  War, 

649 

CLXxn. 

Marriage  and  Separation, 

.  652 

CLXXIII. 

The  Last  Dreain  of  Glory,    . 

.       658 

CT.XXIV. 

The  Hungarians  Again,  . 

.   663 

CLXXV. 

The  Revocation, 

, 

.       667 

CLXXVI. 

The  Death  of  the  Martyr, 

» 

.  670 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PACFNG 
PAGE 


Portrait  of  Maria  Theresa Frontispiece 

Portrait  ot  Joseph  II 140 

View  of  Vienna  in  the  Reign  of  Joseph  II 860 

The  Emperor  Joseph  II  and  his  General  Officers     .        .  .  544 


JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 


MARIA  THEEESA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  CONFERENCE. 

In  the  council-chamber  of  the  Empress  Maria  Tlieresa,  the  six 
lords,  who  composed  her  cabinet  council,  awaited  the  entrance  of 
their  imperial  mistress  to  open  the  sitting. 

At  tiiis  sitting,  a  great  political  question  was  to  be  discussed  ; 
and  its  gravity  seemed  to  be  reflected  in  the  faces  of  tlie  lords,  as, 
in  low  tones,  they  wliispered  together  in  the  dim,  spacious  ai)art- 
ment,  whose  antiquated  furniture  of  dark  velvet  tapestry  corre- 
sponded well  with  the  anxious  looks  of  its  occupants. 

In  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  the  Baron  von  Bartenstein  and 
the  Count  von  Uhlefeld.the  two  powerful  statesmen  who  for  thirteen 
years  had  been  honored  by  the  confidence  of  the  empress.  Together 
they  stood,  their  consequence  acknowledged  by  all,  while  with 
proud  and  lofty  mien,  they  whispered  of  state  secrets. 

Upon  the  fair,  smooth  face  of  Bartenstein  appeared  an  expres- 
sion of  haughty  triumph,  wliich  he  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal ;  and 
over  the  delicate  mouth  of  Von  Ulilefeld  fluttered  a  smile  of  ineffa- 
ble complacency. 

"I  feel  perfectly  secm-e, "  whispered  Von  Bartenstein.  "The 
empress  will  certainly  renew  the  treaties,  and  continue  the  policy 
which  we  have  hitherto  pursued  with  such  brilliant  results  to 
Austiia. " 

"The  empress  is  wise,"  returned  Uhlefeld.  "She  can  reckon 
upon  our  stanch  support,  and  so  long  as  she  pursues  this  policy,  we 
will  sustain  her. " 

While  he  spoke,  there  shot  from  his  eyes  such  a  glance  of  con- 
scious power,  that  the  two  lords  who,  from  the  recess  of  a  neighbor- 
ing window,  were  watching  the  imperial  favorites,  were  completely 
dazzled. 

"See,  count,"  murmured  one  to  the  other,  "see  how  Count 
Uhlefeld  smiles  to-day.  Doubtless  he  knows  already  what  the  de- 
cision of  the  empress  is  to  be  ;  and  that  it  is  in  accordance  with  his 
wishes,  no  one'  can  doubt  who  looks  upon  him  now. " 

"  It  will  be  well  for  us, "  replied  Count  Colloredo,  "  if  we  subscribe 
unconditionally  to  the  opinions  of  the  lord  chancellor.     I,  for  my 


2  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COUET. 

part,  will  do  so  all  the  more  readily,  that  I  confess  to  you  my  utter 
ignorance  of  the  question  whieli  is  to  come  before  us  to-day.  I  was 
really  so  preoccupied  at  our  last  sitting  that  I — I  failed  exactly  to 
comprehend  its  nature.  I  tliink,  therefore,  that  it  will  be  well  for 
us  to  vote  with  Count  von  Uhlefeld — that  is,  if  the  president  of 
the  Aulic  Coimcil,  Count  Harrach,  does  not  entertain  other  opin- 
ions. " 

Count  Harrach  bowed.  "As  for  me,"  sighed  he,  "I  must,  as 
usual,  vote  with  Count  Bartenstein.  His  will  be,  as  it  ever  is,  the 
decisive  voice  of  the  day ;  and  its  echo  will  be  heard  from  the  lips 
of  the  empress.  Let  us  echo  them  both,  and  so  be  the  means  of 
helping  to  crush  the  presumption  of  yonder  crafty  and  arrogant 
courtier. " 

As  he  spoke  he  glanced  toward  the  massive  table  of  carved  oak, 
around  which  were  arranged  the  leathern  arm-chairs  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Aulic  Council.  Count  Colloredo  followed  the  glance  of 
his  friend,  which,  with  a  supercilious  expression,  i-ested  upon  the 
person  to  whom  he  alluded.  This  person  was  seated  in  one  of  the 
chaix's,  deeply  absorbed  in  the  perusal  of  the  papers  that  lay  before 
him  upon  the  table.  He  was  a  man  of  slight  and  elegant  propor- 
tions, whose  youthful  face  contrasted  singularly  with  the  dark, 
manly,  and  weather-beaten  countenances  of  the  other  members  of 
the  council.  Not  a  fault  marred  the  beauty  of  this  fair  face ;  not 
the  shadow  of  a  wrinkle  ruffled  the  polish  of  the  brow  ;  even  the 
lovely  mouth  itself  was  free  from  those  lines  by  which  thought  and 
care  are  wont  to  mark  the  passage  of  man  through  life.  One  thing, 
however,  was  wanting  to  this  beautiful  mask.  It  was  devoid  of 
expression.  Tliose  delicate  features  were  immobile  and  stony.  No 
trace  of  emotion  stirred  the  compressed  lips  ;  no  shadow  of  thought 
flickered  over  tlie  high,  marble  brow  ;  and  the  glance  of  those  clear, 
light-blue  eyes  was  as  calm,  cold,  and  unfeeling  as  that  of  a  statue. 
This  young  man,  with  Medusa-like  beauty,  was  Anthony  Wenzel 
von  Kaunitz,  whom  Maria  Theresa  had  lately  recalled  from  Paris  to 
take  his  seat  in  her  cabinet  council. 

The  looks  of  Harrach  and  Colloredo  were  directed  toward  him, 
but  he  appeared  not  to  observe  them,  and  went  on  quietly  with  his 
examination  of  the  state  papers. 

"You  think,  then,  count,"  whispered  Colloredo,  thoughtfully, 
"  that  young  Kaunitz  cherishes  the  absurd  hope  of  an  alliance  with 
France?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  I  know  that  a  few  days  ago  the  French  ambas- 
sador delivered  to  him  a  most  affectionate  missive  from  his  friend 
the  Marquise  de  Pompadour ;  and  I  know  too  tliat  yesterday  he 
replied  to  it  in  a  similar  strain.  It  is  his  fixed  idea,  and  that  of  La 
Pompadour  also,  to  drive  Austria  into  a  new  line  of  policy,  by 
making  her  the  ally  of  France." 

Count  Colloredo  laughed.  "The  best  cure  hat  I  know  of  for 
fixed  ideas  is  the  madliouse, "  replied  he,  "and  thither  we  will  send 
little  Kaunitz  if " 

He  ceased  suddenly,  for  Kaunitz  had  slowly  raised  his  eyes  from 
the  table,  and  tliey  now  rested  witli  such  an  icy  gaze  upon  the  smil- 
ing face  of  Colloredo,  that  the  frightened  statesman  shivered. 

"If  he  should  have  heard  me!"  nuirmured  he.     "If  he "  but 

the  poor  count  had  no  further  time  for  reflection  ;  for  at  that  mo- 
ment the  folding-doors  leading  to  the  private  apartments  of  the 


THE  CONFERENCE.  3 

empress  were  thrown  open,  and  the  lord  high  steward  announced 
the  approach  of  her  majesty. 

The  councillors  advanced  to  the  table,  and  in  respectful  silence 
awaited  the  imperial  entrance. 

The  rustling  of  silk  was  heard  ;  and  then  the  quick  step  of  the 
Countess  Fuchs,  whose  duty  it  was  to  accompany  the  empress  to 
the  threshold  of  her  council-chamber,  and  to  close  the  door  be- 
hind her. 

And  now  appeared  the  majestic  figure  of  the  empress.  The  lords 
laid  their  hands  upon  their  swords,  and  inclined  their  heads  in  rev- 
erence before  the  imperial  lady,  who  with  light,  elastic  step  advanced 
to  the  table,  while  the  Countess  Fuchs  noiselessly  closed  the  door 
and  returned. 

The  empress  smilingly  acknowledged  the  salutation,  though  her 
smile  was  lost  to  lier  respectful  subjects,  who,  in  obedience  to  the 
strict  Spanish  etiquette  which  prevailed  at  the  Austrian  court, 
remained  with  their  heads  bent  until  the  sovereign  had  taken  her 
seat  upon  the  throne. 

One  of  these  subjects  had  bent  his  head  with  the  rest,  but  he  had 
ventured  to  raise  it  again,  and  he  at  least  met  the  glance  of  royalty. 
This  bold  subject  was  Kaunitz,  the  youngest  of  the  councillors. 

He  gazed  at  the  advancing  empress,  and  for  the  first  time  a 
smile  flitted  over  his  stony  features.  And  well  might  the  sight  of 
his  sovereign  lady  stir  tlie  marble  heart  of  Kaunitz ;  for  Maria 
Theresa  was  one  of  tlie  loveliest  women  of  her  day.  Though  thirty- 
six  years  of  age,  and  the  mother  of  thirteen  children,  she  was  still 
beautifvil,  and  the  Austrians  were  proud  to  excess  of  her  beauty. 
Her  high,  thoughtful  forehead  was  shaded  by  a  profusion  of  blond 
hair,  which  lightly  powdered  and  gathered  up  behind  in  one  ricli 
mass,  was  there  confined  by  a  golden  net.  Her  large,  starry  eyes 
were  of  that  peculiar  gray  which  changes  with  every  emotion  of  the 
soul ;  at  one  time  seeming  to  be  heavenly-blue,  at  another  the  dark- 
est and  most  flashing  brown.  Her  bold  profile  betokened  great  pride  ; 
but  every  look  of  hauglitiness  was  softened  away  by  the  enchanting 
expression  of  a  mouth  in  whose  exquisite  beauty  no  trace  of  the 
so-called  "  Austrian  lij:)''  could  be  seen.  Her  figure,  loftier  than  is 
visual  with  women,  was  of  faultless  symmetiy,  wliile  her  graceful 
bust  would  have  seemed  to  the  eyes  of  Praxiteles  the  waking  to  life 
of  his  own  dreams  of  Juno. 

Those  who  looked  upon  this  beautiful  empress  could  well  realize 
the  emotions  which  thirteen  years  before  had  stirred  the  hearts  of 
the  Hungarian  nobles,  as  she  stood  before  them  ;  and  had  wrought 
them  up  to  that  height  of  enthusiasm  which  culminated  in  the  well- 
known  shout  of 

"  MORIAMUR  PRO  REGE  NOSTRO  1" 

"  Our  king !"  cried  the  Hungarians,  and  they  were  right.  For 
Maria  Theresa,  who  with  her  husband,  was  the  tender  wife  ;  toward 
her  children,  the  loving  mother  ;  was  in  all  that  related  to  her  em- 
pire, her  people,  and  her  sovereignty,  a  man  both  in  the  scope  of 
her  comprehension  and  the  strength  of  her  will.  She  was  capable 
of  sketching  bold  lines  of  policy,  and  of  following  them  out  without 
reference  to  personal  predilections  or  prejudices,  both  of  which  she 
was  fully  competent  to  stifle,  wherever  they  threatened  interference 
with  the  good  of  her  realm,  or  her  sense  of  duty  as  a  sovereign. 


4  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

The  energy  and  determination  of  her  character  were  written  upon 
the  lofty  brow  of  Maria  Theresa ;  and  now,  as  she  appi-oached  her 
councillors,  these  characteristics  beamed  forth  from  her  countenance 
with  such  power  and  such  beauty,  that  Kaunitz  himself  was  over- 
awed, and  for  one  moment  a  smile  lit  up  his  cold  features. 

No  one  saw  this  smile  except  the  imperial  lady,  who  had  woke  the 
Memnon  into  life ;  and  as  she  took  her  seat  upon  the  throne,  she 
slightly  bent  her  head  in  return. 

Now,  with  her  clear  and  sonorous  voice,  she  Invited  her  coun- 
cillors also  to  be  seated,  and  at  once  reached  out  her  hand  for 
the  memoranda  which  Count  Bartensteiu  had  prepared  for  her  ex- 
amiuation.  • 

She  glanced  quickly  over  the  papers,  and  laid  them  aside.  "  My 
lords  of  the  Aulic  Council, "  said  she,  in  tones  of  deep  earnestness, 
"we  have  to-day  a  question  of  gravest  import  to  discuss.  I  crave 
thereunto  your  attention  and  advice.  We  ai'e  at  this  sitting  to  de- 
liberate upon  the  future  policy  of  Austria,  and  deeply  significant 
will  be  the  result  of  this  day's  deliberations  to  Austria's  welfare. 
Some  of  our  old  treaties  are  about  to  expire.  Time,  which  has 
somewhat  moderated  the  bitterness  of  our  enemies,  seems  also  to 
have  weakened  the  amity  of  our  friends.  Both  are  dying  away ; 
and  the  question  now  before  us  is.  Whether  we  shall  extinguish 
enmity,  or  rekindle  friendship?  For  seventy  years  past  England, 
Holland,  and  Sardinia  have  been  our  allies.  For  three  hundred 
years  France  has  been  our  hereditary  enemy.  Shall  we  renew  our 
alliance  with  the  former  powers,  or  seek  new  relations  with  the 
latter?     Let  me  have  your  views,  my  lords." 

With  these  concluding  woixls,  Maria  Theresa  waved  her  hand, 
and  pointed  to  Count  Uhlefeld.  The  lord  chancellor  arose,  and  with 
a  dignified  inclination  of  the  head,  responded  to  the  appeal. 

"Since  your  majesty  permits  me  to  speak,  I  vote  without  hesita- 
tion for  the  renewal  of  oiu-  treaty  with  the  maritime  powers.  For 
seventy  years  our  relations  with  these  powers  have  been  amicable 
and  honorable.  In  our  days  of  greatest  extremity — when  Louis 
XIV.  took  Alsatia  and  the  city  of  Strasburg,  and  his  ally,  the  Turk- 
ish Sultan,  besieged  Vienna — when  two  powerful  enemies  threatened 
Austria  witli  destruction,  it  was  this  alliance  with  the  maritime 
powers  and  with  Sardinia,  which,  next  to  the  succor  of  the  generous 
King  of  Poland,  saved  the  Austrian  empire  from  ruin.  The  brave 
Sobieski  saved  our  capital,  and  Savoy  held  Lombardy  in  check, 
while  England  and  Holland  guarded  the  Netherlands,  which,  since 
the  days  of  Piiilip  II. ,  have  ever  been  th  nest  of  rebellion  and  revolt. 
To  tliis  alliance,  therefore,  we  owe  it  that  your  majesty  still  reigns 
f)ver  tliose  seditious  provinces.  To  Savoy  we  are  ind(4)ted  for  Lom- 
bardy ;  while  France,  perfidious  France,  has  not  cmly  robbed  us  of 
our  territory,  but  to  this  day  asserts  her  right  to  its  possession  ! 
No,  your  majesty — so  long  as  France  retains  that  which  belongs  to 
Austria,  Austria  will  neither  forgive  lier  enmity  norforget  it.  See, 
on  the  contrary,  how  tlie  inaritinie  powers  have  befriended  us!  It 
was  tlicir  gold  which  enabled  us  fh-st  to  witiistand  France,  and  after- 
ward Prussia — their  gold  that  filled  your  majestj^'s  coffers — their 
gold  that  sustained  and  confirmed  the  prosperity  of  your  majesty's 
dominions.  This  is  the  alliance  that  I  advocate,  and  with  all  my 
heart  I  vote  for  its  renewal.  It  is  but  just  tha  the  ])rinces  and  riders 
of  the  earth  should  give  example  to  the  world  of  good  faith  in  their 


THE  CONFERENCE.  5 

dealings  ;  for  the  integrity  of  the  sovereign  is  a  pledge  to  all  nations 
of  the  integrity  of  his  people." 

Count  Uhlefeld  resumed  his  seat,  and  after  him  rose  the  power- 
ful favorite  of  the  empress,  Count  Bartenstein,  who,  in  a  long  and 
animated  address,  came  vehemently  to  the  support  of  Uhlefeld. 

Then  came  Counts  Colloredo  and  Harrach,  and  the  lord  high 
steward,  Count  Khevenhiiller — all  unanimous  for  a  renewal  of  the 
old  treaty.  Not  one  of  these  rich,  proud  nobles  would  have  dared  to 
breathe  a  sentiment  in  opposition  to  the  two  powerful  statesmen 
that  had  spoken  before  them.  Bartenstein  and  Uhlefeld  had  passed 
the  word.  The  alliance  must  continue  with  those  maritime  powers, 
from  whose  subsidies  such  unexampled  wealth  had  flowed  into  the 
coffers  of  Austria,  and — those  of  the  lords  of  the  exchequer  !  For, 
up  to  the  times  of  which  we  write,  it  was  a  fundamental  doctrine 
of  court  faith,  that  the  task  of  inquiry  into  the  accounts  of  the  im- 
perial treasury  was  one  far  beneath  the  dignity  of  the  sovereign. 
The  lords  of  the  exchequer,  therefore,  were  responsible  to  nobody 
for  their  administration  of  the  funds  arising  from  the  Dutch  and 
English  subsidies. 

It  was  natural,  then,  that  the  majority  of  the  Aulic  Council  should 
vote  for  the  old  alliance.  While  they  argued  and  voted,  Kaunitz, 
the  least  important  personage  of  them  all,  sat  perfectly  unconcerned, 
paying  not  the  slightest  attention  to  the  wise  deductions  of  his  col- 
leagues. He  seemed  much  occupied  in  straightening  loose  papers, 
mending  his  pen,  and  removing  with  his  finger-tips  the  tiny  specks 
that  flecked  the  lustre  of  his  velvet  coat.  Once,  while  Bartenstein 
was  delivering  his  long  address,  Kaunitz  carried  his  indifference  so 
far  as  to  draw  out  his  repeater  (on  which  was  painted  a  portrait  of 
La  Pompadour,  set  in  diamonds)  and  strike  the  hour  !  The  musical 
ring  of  the  little  bell  sounded  a  fairy  accompaniment  to  the  deep 
and  earnest  tones  of  Bartenstein 's  voice  ;  while  Kaunitz,  seeming 
to  hear  nothing  else,  held  the  watch  up  to  his  ear  and  counted  its 
strokes.*  The  empress,  who  was  accustomed  to  visit  the  least  mani- 
festation of  such  inattention  on  tliepart  of  her  councillors  with  oj^en 
censure — the  empress,  so  observant  of  form,  and  so  exacting  of  its 
observance  in  others — seemed  singularly  indulgent  to-day  ;  for  while 
Kaunitz  was  listening  to  the  music  of  his  watcli,  his  imperial  mis- 
tress looked  on  with  half  a  smile.  At  last,  when  the  fifth  orator 
had  spoken,  and  it  became  the  turn  of  Kaunitz  to  vote,  Maria 
Theresa  turned  her  flashing  eyes  upon  him,  with  a  glance  of  anxious 
and  appealing  expectation. 

As  her  look  met  his,  how  had  all  coldness  and  imconcern  van- 
ished from  his  face  !  How  glowed  his  eyes  with  the  lustre  of  great 
and  world-swaying  thoughts,  as,  rising  from  his  chair,  he  returned 
the  gaze  of  his  sovereign  with  one  that  seemed  to  ci'ave  forbearance  ! 

But  Kaunitz  had  almost  preternatural  control  over  his  emotions, 
and  he  recovered  himself  at  once. 

"I  cannot  vote  for  a  renewal  of  our  worn-out  alliance  with  the 
maritime  powers, "  said  he,  in  a  clear  and  determined  voice.  As  he 
uttered  these  words,  looks  of  astonishment  and  disapprobation  were 
visible  upon  the  faces  of  his  colleagues.  The  lord  chancellor  con- 
tented himself  with  a  contemptuous  shrug  and  a  supercilious  smile. 
Kaunitz  perceived  it,  and  met  both  shrug  and  smile  with  undis- 
turbed composure,  while  calmly  and  slowly  he  repeated  his  offend* 
♦  Vide Kormayr,  "  Austriau  Plutarch,"  vol.  xli.,  p.  353. 


0  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

ing  words.  For  a  moment  he  paused,  as  if  to  give  time  to  his 
hearers  to  test  the  flavor  of  his  new  and  startling  language.  Then, 
firm  and  collected,  he  went  on  : 

•'  Our  alliance  with  England  and  Holland  has  long  been  a  yoke 
and  a  humiliation  to  Austria.  If,  in  its  earlier  daj's,  this  alliance 
ever  afforded  us  protection,  dearly  have  we  paid  for  that  protection, 
and  we  have  been  forced  to  buy  it  with  fearful  sacrifices  to  our  na- 
tional jjride.  Never  for  one  moment  have  these  two  powers  allowed 
us  to  forget  that  we  have  been  dependent  upon  their  bounty  for 
money  and  defence.  Jealous  of  the  growing  power  and  influence  of 
Austria,  before  wliose  youtliful  and  vigorous  career  lies  the  gJory  of 
future  greatness — jealous  of  our  increasing  wealth — jealous  of  the 
splendor  of  Maria  Theresa's  reign — these  powers,  whose  faded  laurels 
are  buried  in  the  grave  of  tlie  past,  have  compassed  sea  and  land  to 
stop  the  flow  of  our  prosperity,  and  sting  the  pride  of  our  nationality. 
With  their  tyrannical  commercial  edicts,  they  have  dealt  injiiry  to 
friends  as  well  as  foes.  Th^  closing  of  the  Scheldt  and  Rhine, 
the  Barrier  treaty,  and  all  the  other  restrictions  upon  trade 
devised  by  those  crafty  English  to  damage  the  traflfic  of  other 
nations,  all  these  compacts  have  been  made  as  binding  upon 
Austria  as  upon  every  other  European  power.  Unmindful  of  their 
alliance  with  us,  the  maritime  powers  have  closed  their  ports  against 
our  ships  ;  and  while  artectiug  to  watch  the  Netherlands  in  our  be- 
half, they  have  been  nothing  better  tlian  spies,  seeking  to  discover 
wliether  our  flag  transcended  in  the  least  the  limits  of  our  own 
blockaded  frontiers  ;  and  whether  to  any  but  to  themselves  accrued 
the  profits  of  trade  with  the  Baltic  and  North  Seas.  Vraimevt,  such 
friendship  lies  heavily  upon  us,  and  its  weight  feels  almost  like  that 
of  enmity.  At  Aix-la-Cliapelle  I  had  to  remind  the  English  ambas- 
sador that  his  unknightly  and  arrogant  bearing  toward  Austria  was 
unseemly  both  to  the  sex  and  majesty  of  Austria's  empress.  And 
onr  august  sovereign  herself,  not  long  since,  saw  fit  to  reprove  the 
insolence  of  this  snnu^  Britisli  envoy,  who  in  her  very  presence 
spoke  of  the  Netherlands  as  thoiigh  they  had  been  a  boon  to  Austria 
from  England's  clemeuc}'.  Incensed  at  the  tone  of  this  representa- 
tive of  our  friends,  the  empress  exclaimed  :  'Am  I  not  ruler  in  the 
Netherlands  as  well  as  in  Vienna?  Do  I  hold  my  right  of  empire 
from  England  and  Holland?'"* 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Maria  Theresa,  impetuously,  "yes,  it  is  true. 
The  arrogance  of  these  royal  traders  has  provoked  me  beyond  all 
bearing.  I  will  no  longer  permit  them  to  insinuate  of  my  own  im- 
perial rights,  that  I  liold  them  as  :avors  from  the  hand  of  any  earthly 
power.  It  chafes  the  ])ride  of  an  empress-queen  to  be  called  a  friend 
and  treated  as  a  vassal  :  and  I  intend  that  these  proud  allies  shall 
feel  that  I  resent  their  afl'ronts  !" 

It  was  wonderful  to  see  the  effect  of  tliese  impassioned  words 
upon  the  auditors  of  the  empress.  They  quaked  as  they  thought 
liow  they  had  voted,  and  tlieir  awe-stricken  faces  were  pallid  with 
fright.  Uhlefeld  ;ind  Bartcnstein  exchanged  glances  of  amazement 
and  dismay  ;  wliilftiie  other  nobles,  like  adroit  courtiers,  fixed  their 
looks,  witli  awakening  admiration,  upon  Kaimitz,  in  wliom  their 
ex])eri(>nce(l  eyes  were  just  discovering  the  rising  luminary  of  a  new 
political  firmament. 

He,  meanwhile,  had  inclined  his  head  and  smiled  when  the  em« 
*  Coxe,  "  History  of  the  House  of  Austria,"  vol.  v.,  p.  51. 


THE    CONFERENCE.  7 

press  had  interrupted  him.  She  ceased,  and  after  a  short  pause, 
Kaunitz  resumed,  with  unaltered  equanimity:  "  Your  majesty  has 
been  graciously  pleased  to  testify,  in  your  own  sovereign  person, 
to  the  tyranny  of  our  two  northern  allies.  It  remains,  therefore, 
to  speak  of  Sardinia  alone — Sardinia,  who  hchl  Lombardy  in  check. 
No  sooner  had  Victor  Amadeus  put  his  royal  signature  to  the 
treaty  made  by  him  with  Austria,  than  he  turned  to  his  confidants 
and  said  (loud  enough  for  us  to  hear  him  in  Vienna) :  '  Lombardy 
is  mine.  I  will  take  it,  but  I  shall  eat  it  up,  leaf  by  leaf,  like  an 
artichoke.'  And  methinks  his  majesty  of  Sardinia  has  proved  him- 
self to  be  a  g-ood  vrencherman.  He  has  already  swallowed  several 
leaves  of  his  artichoke,  in  that  he  is  master  of  several  of  the  fair- 
est provinces  of  Lombardy.  It  is  true  that  this  royal  g-ourmand 
has  laid  aside  his  crown;  and  that  in  his  place  reigfns  Victor 
Emanuel,  of  whom  Lord  Chesterfield,  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm, 
has  said,  that  '  he  never  did  and  never  will  comnait  an  act  of  in- 
justice.' Concede  that  Victor  Emanuel  is  the  soul  of  honor;  still," 
added  Kaunitz  with  a  shake  of  the  head,  and  an  incredulous 
smile,  "  still — the  Italian  princes  are  abominable  geographers — • 
and  they  are  inordinately  fond  of  artichokes.*  Now  their  fond- 
ness for  this  vegetable  is  as  dangerous  to  Austria  as  the  too-loving 
grasp  of  her  northern  allies,  who  with  their  friendly  hands  not 
only  close  their  ports  against  us,  but  lay  the  weight  of  their  fav- 
ors so  heavily  upon  our  heads  as  to  force  us  down  ujion  our  knees 
before  them.  What  have  we  from  England  and  Holland  but  their 
subsidies?  And  Austria  can  now  afford  to  relinquish  them — Aus- 
tria is  rich,  powerful,  prosperous  enough  to  be  allowed  to  proffer 
her  friendship  where  it  will  be  honorably  returned.  Austria, 
then,  must  be  freed  from  her  oppressive  alliance  with  the  mari- 
time powers.  She  has  youth  and  vitality  enough  to  shake  off  this 
bondage,  and  strike  for  the  new  path  which  shall  lead  her  to 
greatness  and  glory.  There  is  a  moral  and  intangible  greatness, 
of  whose  existence  these  trading"  Englishmen  have  no  conception, 
but  which  the  refined  and  elevated  people  of  France  are  fully 
competent  to  appreciate.  France  extends  to  us  her  hand,  and 
offers  us  alliance  on  terms  of  equality.  Cooperating  with  France, 
we  shall  defy  the  enmity  of  all  Europe.  With  our  two-edged 
sword  we  shall  turn  the  scales  of  future  European  strife,  and 
make  peace  or  war  for  other  nations.  France,  too,  is  our  natural 
ally,  for  she  is  our  neighbor.  And  she  is  more  than  this,  for  she 
is  our  ally  by  the  sacred  unity  of  one  faith.  The  Holy  Father  at 
Eome,  who  blesses  the  arms  of  Austria,  will  no  longer  look  sor- 
rowfully ui)on  Austria's  league  with  heresy.  When  apostolic 
France  and  we  are  one,  the  blessings  of  the  Church  will  descend 
upon  our  alliance.  Religion,  therefore,  as  well  as  honest  states- 
manship, call  for  the  treaty  with  France." 

"  And  I,"  iried  Maria  Theresa,  rising  quickly  from  her  seat, 
her  eyes  glowing  with  enthusiastic  fire,  '*  I  vote  joyfully  with 
Coimt  Kaunitz.  I,  too,  vote  for  alliance  with  France.  The  count 
has  spoken  as  it  stirs  my  heart  to  hear  an  Austrian  speak.  He 
loves  his  fatherland,  and  in  his  devotion  he  casts  far  from  him 
all  thought  of  worldly  profit  or  advancement.  I  tender  him  my 
warmest  thanks,  and  I  will  take  his  words  to  heart." 

Overcome  with  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  the  empress 

*  Kaunitz's  own  words.    Kormayr,  "  Austrian  Plutarch,"  vol.  xi. 
o 


8  JOSEPH    11.   AND    HIS   COURT. 

reached  her  hand  to  Kaunitz,  who  eagerly  seized  and  pressed  it 
to  his  lips. 

Count  Uhlefeld  watched  this  extraordinary  scene  with  aston- 
ishment and  consternation.  Bartenstein,  so  long-  the  favorite 
minister  of  Maria  Theresa,  was  deadly  pale,  and  his  lips  were 
compressed  as  thoug'h  he  were  trying-  to  suppress  a  burst  of  rage. 
Harrach,  Colloredo,  and  Khevenhiiller  hung  their  heads,  while 
they  turned  over  in  their  little  minds  how  best  to  curry  favor 
with  the  new  minister. 

The  empress  saw  nothing  of  the  dismayed  faces  around  her. 
Her  soul  was  filled  with  high  emotions,  and  her  countenance 
beamed  gloriously  with  the  fervor  of  her  boundless  patriotism. 

"  Everything  for  Austria!  My  heart,  my  soul,  my  life,  all  are 
for  my  fatherland,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  with  her  beautiful  eyes 
raised  to  heaven.  "  And  now,  my  lords,"  added  she,  after  a 
pause,  "  I  must  retii'e,  to  beg  light  and  counsel  from  the  Al- 
mighty. I  have  learned  your  different  views  on  the  great  question 
of  this  day;  and  when  Heaven  shall  have  taught  me  what  to  do, 
I  will  decide." 

She  waved  her  hand  in  parting  salutation,  and  with  her  loftiest 
imperial  bearing-  left  the  room. 

Until  the  doors  were  closed,  the  lords  of  the  coimcil  remained 
standing  with  inclined  heads.  Then  they  looked  from  one  to 
another  with  faces  of  wonder  and  inquiry.  Kaunitz  alone  seemed 
unembarrassed;  and  gathering-  up  his  papers  with  as  much  un- 
concern as  if  nothing-  had  happened,  he  slig-htly  bent  his  head  and 
left  the  room. 

Never  before  had  any  member  of  the  Aulic  Council  dared  to 
leave  that  room  until  the  lord  chancellor  had  given  the  signal  of 
departure.  It  was  a  case  of  unparalleled  violation  of  court  eti- 
quette. Count  Uhlefeld  was  aghast,  and  Bartensteiti  seemed 
crushed.  Without  exchanging  a  word,  the  two  friends  rose,  aud 
with  eyes  cast  down,  and  faces  pale  with  the  anguish  of  that  hour, 
together  they  left  the  council-chamber  toward  which  they  had 
repaired  with  hearts  and  bearing  so  triiimphant. 

Colloredo  and  Harrach  followed  silently  to  the  anteroom,  and 
bowed  del'erentially  as  their  late  masters  passed  through. 

But  no  sooner  had  the  door  closed,  than  the  two  courtiers  ex- 
changed malicious  sTniles. 

"  Fallen  favorites,"  laughed  Harrach.  "  Quenched  lights  which 
yesterday  slione  like  suns,  and  to-day  are  burnt  to  ashes!  There 
is  to  be  a  soirrc  to-niglit  at  Bartenstein's.  For  the  first  time  in 
eleven  years  I  shall  stay  away  from  Bartenstein's  soirees." 

•'  And  I,"  replied  Colloredo,  laughing,  "  had  invited  Uhlefeld 
for  to-morroAV.  But.  as  the  entertainment  was  all  in  his  honor, 
I  shall  be  taken  \vith  a  sudden  indisposition,  and  countermand 
my  suj)j)er." 

"  That  will  l)e  a  most  summary  ]:)rocecding,"  said  Harrach. 
"  I  see  that  you  believe  the  sun  of  Uhlefeld  and  Bartenstein  has 
Bet  forever." 

"  T  am  convinced  of  it.     TIicn   have  their  deat  h-l)low." 

"  And  the  rising  sun?     You  think  it  will  be  called  Kaunitz?" 

"  Will  1)('?  11  is  called  Kaunitz:  so  take  my  advice.  Kaunitz, 
I  know,  is  not  a  man  to  be  bribed;  but  he  has  two  weaknesses — 
women  and  horses.    Yotj  are,  for  the  ])resent,  the  favorite  of  La 


THE  LETTER.  9 

Fortina  ;  and  yesterday  you  won  from  Count  Esterhazy  an  Arabian, 
which  Kaunitz  says  is  the  finest  horse  in  Vienna.  If  I  were  you, 
I  would  present  to  him  both  my  mistress  and  my  horse.  Who 
knows  but  what  these  courtesies  may  induce  him  to  adopt  you  as  a 
protege  9  " 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE  LETTER. 

From  her  cabinet  council  the  empress  passed  at  once  to  her  pri- 
vate apartments.  When  business  w^as  over  for  the  day,  she  loved  to 
cast  the  cares  of  sovereignty  behind,  and  become  a  woman — chatting 
with  her  ladies  of  honor  over  tlie  on  dits  of  the  court  and  city. 
During  the  hours  devoted  to  her  toilet,  Maria  Theresa  gave  herself 
up  unreservedly  to  enjoyment.  But  she  was  so  impetuous,  that  her 
ladies  of  honor  were  never  quite  secure  that  some  little  annoyance 
would  not  ruffle  the  serenity  of  her  temper.  The  young  girl  whose 
duty  it  was  to  read  aloud  to  the  empress  and  dress  her  hair,  used  to 
declare  that  she  would  sooner  wade  through  three  hours'  worth  of 
Latin  dispatches  from  Hungary,  than  spend  one  half  hour  as  im- 
perial hair- dresser. 

But  to-day,  as  she  entered  her  dressing-room,  the  eyes  of  the 
empress  beamed  with  pleasure,  and  her  mouth  was  wreathed  with 
svmny  smiles.  The  little  hair-dresser  was  delighted,  and  with  a 
responsive  smile  took  her  place,  and  prepared  for  her  important 
duties.  Maria  Theresa  glided  into  the  chair,  and  with  her  own 
hands  began  to  ujafasten  the  golden  net  that  confined  her  hair.  She 
then  leaned  forward,  and,  with  a  pleased  exjjression,  contemplated 
the  beautiful  face  that  looked  out  from  the  silver-framed  Venetian 
glass  before  which  she  sat. 

"Make  me  very  charming  to-day,  Charlotte,"*  said  she. 

"  Your  majesty  needs  no  help  from  me  to  look  charming,"  said 
the  gentle  voice  of  the  little  tire-woman.  "  No  hair-dresser  had  lent 
you  her  aid  on  that  day  when  your  Magyar  nobles  swore  to  die  for 
you,  and  yet  the  world  says  that  never  were  eyes  of  loyal  subjects 
dazzled  by  such  beauty  and  such  grace. " 

"Ah,  yes,  child,  but  that  was  thirteen  years  ago.  Thirteen 
years  !  How  many  cares  have  lain  upon  my  heart  since  that  day  ! 
If  my  face  is  wrinkled  and  my  hair  grown  gray,  I  may  thank  that 
hateful  King  of  Prussia,  for  he  is  the  cause  of  it  all." 

"If  he  has  no  greater  sins  to  repent  of  than  those  two,"  replied 
Charlotte,  with  an  admiring  smile,  "he  may  sleep  soundly.  Your 
majestj''s  forehead  is  unruffled  by  a  wrinkle,  and  your  hair  is  as 
glossy  and  as  brown  as  ever  it  was. " 

Brighter  still  was  the  smile  of  the  empress,  as  she  turned  quickly 
roimd  and  exclaimed  :  "Then  you  think  I  have  still  beauty  enough 
to  please  the  emperor?  If  you  do,  make  good  use  of  it  to-day,  for  I 
have  something  of  importance  to  ask  of  him,  and  I  long  to  find 
favor  in  his  eyes.     To  work,  then,  Charlotte,  and  be  quick,  for — " 

At  that  moment,  the  silken  hangings  before  the  door  of  the  dress- 
ing-room were  drawn  hastily  aside,  and  the  Countess  Fuchs  stepped 
forward. 

*Cliarlotte  von  Hieronymus  was  the  mother  of  Caroline  Pichler. 


10  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Ah,  countess, "  continued  the  empress,  "  you  are  just  in  time 
for  a  cabinet  toilet  council. " 

But  the  lady  of  honor  showed  no  disposition  to  respond  to  the 
gay  greeting  of  her  sovereign.  With  stiffest  Spanish  ceremony, 
she  courtesied  deeply.  "Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  if  I  interrupt 
you,"  said  she,  solemnly,  "but  I  have  something  to  communicate 
to  yourself  alone. " 

"Oh,  countess!"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  anxiously,  "you  look 
as  if  you  bore  me  sad  tidings.  But  speak  out — Charlotte  knov^s  as 
many  state  secrets  as  you  do ;  you  need  not  be  reserved  before 
ner. " 

"Pardon  me,"  again  replied  the  ceremonious  lady,  with  another 
deep  courtesy,  "I  bring  no  news  of  state — I  nuist  speak  with  yoiu* 
majesty  alone. " 

The  eyes  of  the  empress  dilated  with  fear.  "  No  state  secret, " 
murmured  she;  "oh,  what  can  it  be,  then?  Go,  Charlotte — go, 
child,  and  remain  until  I  recall  you." 

The  door  closed  behind  the  tire-woman,  and  the  empress  cried 
out:  "Now  we  are  alone — be  quick,  and  speak  out  what  you  have 
to  say.     You  have  come  to  give  me  pain — I  feel  it. " 

"  Your  majesty  ordered  me,  some  time  since, "  began  the  countess 
in  her  low,  unsympathizing  tones,  "to  watch  the  imperial  house- 
hold, so  that  nothing  might  transpire  within  it  that  came  not  to 
the  knowledge  of  your  majesty.  I  have  lately  watched  the  move- 
ments of  the  emperor's  valet." 

"  Ah !"  cried  the  empress,  clasping  her  hands  convulsively  to- 
gether, "you  watched  him,  and — " 

"Yes,  your  majesty,  I  watched  him,  and  I  was  informed  this 
morning  that  he  had  left  the  emperor's  apartments  with  a  sealed 
note  in  his  hands,  and  had  gone  into  the  city." 

"No  more — just  yet,"  said  the  empress,  with  trembling  lip. 
"Give  me  air!  I  cannot  breathe."  With  wild  emotion  she  tore 
open  her  velvet  bodice,  and  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  signed  to  the 
countess  to  go  on. 

"My  spy  awaited  Gaspardi's  return,  and  stop])ed  him.     He  was 
forbidden,  in  the  name  of  j'our  majestv,  to  go  farther.  " 

"Goon." 

"He  was  broiight  to  me,  your  majesty,  and  now  awaits  your 
orders. " 

"So  that  if  thei'e  is  an  answer  to  the  note,  he  has  it,"  said  Maria 
Theresa,  sharjily.     The  countess  bowed. 

"Where  is  he?" 

"In  the  antechamber,  your  majesty." 

The  empress  bounded  from  her  seat,  and  walked  across  the  room. 
Her  face  was  flushed  with  anger,  and  she  trembled  in  every  limb. 
She  seemed  utidecided  what  to  do  ;  but  au  last  she  stopped  suddenly, 
and  blushing  deeply,  without  looking  at  the  countess,  she  said  in  a 
low  voice,  "Bring  him  hither." 

The  countess  disappeared  and  returned,  followed  bj-  Gasi)ardi. 

Maria  Theresa  strode  impetuously  forward,  and  bent  her  threat- 
ening ejes  upon  the  valet.  But  the  shrewd  Italian  knew  better 
tlian  to  meet  the  lightning  glance  of  an  angry  empress.  With 
downcast  looks  and  reverential  obeisance  he  awaited  her  commands. 

"Look  at  me,  Gaspardi,"  said  slie,  in  tones  that  sounded  in  the 
valet's  ears  like  distant  thunder.     "Answer  my  questions,  sir!" 


THE  LETTER.  11 

Gaspardi  raised  his  eyes. 

"  To  whom  was  the  note  addressed  that  was  given  you  by  the 
emperor  this  morning?" 

"Your  majesty,  I  did  not  presume  to  look  at  it,"  replied  Gas- 
pardi, quietly.  "  His  imperial  majesty  was  pleased  to  tell  me  where 
to  take  it,  and  that  sufficed  me." 

"And  whither  did  you  take  it?" 

"  Imperial  majesty,  I  have  forgotten  the  house. " 

"What  street,  then?" 

"  Pardon  me,  imperial  majesty ;  these  dreadful  German  names 
are  too  hard  for  my  Italian  tongue.  As  soon  as  I  had  obeyed  his 
majesty's  commands,  I  forgot  the  name  of  the  street." 

"  So  that  you  are  resolved  not  to  tell  me  where  you  went  with  the 
emperor's  note?" 

"  Indeed,  imperial  majesty,  I  have  totally  forgotten. " 

The  empress  looked  as  if  slie  longed  to  annihilate  a  menial  who 
defied  her  so  successfully. 

"  I  see, "  exclaimed  she,  "  that  you  are  crafty  and  deceitful,  but 
you  sliall  not  escape  me.  I  command  you,  as  your  sovereign,  to 
give  up  tlie  note  you  bear  about  you  for  the  emperor.  I  myself  will 
deliver  it  to  his  majesty." 

Gaspardi  gave  a  start,  and  unconsciously  his  hand  sought  the 
place  where  the  note  was  concealed.  He  turned  very  pale  and  stam- 
mered, "  Imperial  majesty,  I  have  no  letter  for  tlie  emperor. " 

"You  have  it  there  !"  thundered  the  infuriated  empress,  as  with 
threatening  hand  she  pointed  to  the  valet's  breast.  "Deliver  it  at 
once,  or  I  will  call  my  lackej^s  to  search  you. " 

"Your  majesty  forces  me  then  to  betray  my  lord  and  emperor?" 
asked  Gaspardi,  trembling. 

"You  serve  him  more  faithfully  by  relinquishing  the  letter  than 
by  retaining  it,"  returned  Maria  Theresa,  hastily.  "Once  more  I 
command  you  to  give  it  up. " 

Gaspardi  heaved  a  sigh  of  anguish,  and  looked  imploringly  at 
the  empress.  But  in  the  trembling  lips,  the  flashing  eyes,  the 
flushed  cheeks  that  met  his  entreating  glance,  he  saw  no  symptoms 
of  relenting,  and  he  dared  the  strife  no  longer.  His  hand  shook  as 
he  drew  forth  the  letter. 

The  empress  uttered  a  cry,  and  with  the  fury  of  a  lioness  snatched 
the  paper  and  crushed  it  in  her  hand. 

"  Your  majesty, "  wliispered  the  countess,  "  dismiss  the  valet  be- 
fore he  learns  too  much.     He  might — " 

"Woe  to  him  if  he  breathes  a  word  to  one  human  being  !"  cried 
the  empress,  with  menacing  gesture.  "  Woe  to  him  if  he  dare 
breathe  one  word  to  his  master  !" 

"  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  betray  the  secrets  of  my  sovereign  !" 
cried  the  afi'righted  Gaspardi.  "But,  imperial  majesty,  what  am  I 
to  say  to  my  lord  the  emperor?" 

"  You  will  tell  j'our  lord  that  you  brought  no  answer,  and  it  will 
not  be  the  fii'st  lie  with  wliich  you  have  befooled  his  imperial  ears," 
replied  Maria  Theresa  contemptuously,  while  she  waved  her  hand 
as  a  signal  of  dismissal.  The  unhappy  Mercnry  retired,  and  as  he 
disappeared,  the  pent-up  anguish  of  tlie  empress  burst  fortli. 

"Ah,  Mai-garetta, "  cried  she,  in  accents  of  wildest  grief,  "what 
an  unfortunate  woman  I  am  !  In  all  my  life  I  have  loved  but  one 
man !     My  heart,  my  soul,  my  every  thought  are  his,  and  he  robs 


13  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

me,  the  mother  of  his  children,  of  Ms  love,  and  bestows  it  upon 
another !" 

"Perhaps  the  inconstancy  is  but  momentary,"  replied  the  count 
ess,  who  burned  to  know  the  contents  of  the  letter.     "  Perhaps  there  is 
no  inconstancy  at  all.     This  may  be  nothing  but  an  effort  on  the 
part  of  some  frivolous  coquette  to  draw  our  handsome  emperor 
within  the  net  of  her  guilty  attractions.     The  note  would  show — " 

The  empress  scarcely  heeded  the  words  of  her  confidante.  She 
had  opened  her  hand,  and  was  gazing  upon  the  crumpled  pajjer  that 
held  her  husband's  secret. 

"Oh!"  murmured  she,  plaintively.  "Oh,  it  seems  to  me  that  a 
thousand  daggers  have  sprung  from  this  little  \  aper,  to  make  my 
heart's  blood  flow.  Who  is  the  foolhardy  woman  that  would  entice 
my  husband  from  his  loyalty  to  me?  Woe,  woe  to  her  when  I  shall 
have  learned  her  name  !  And  I  will  learn  it !"  cried  the  unhappy 
wife.  "I  myself  will  take  this  letter  to  the  emperor,  and  he  shall 
open  it  in  my  presence.  I  will  have  justice  !  Adulteiy  is  a  fearful 
crime,  and  fearful  shall  be  its  punishment  in  my  realms.  The  name  ! 
the  name  !  Oh,  that  I  knew  tlie  name  of  the  execrable  woman  who 
has  dared  to  lift  her  treasonable  eyes  toward  my  husband  !" 

"Nothing  is  easier  than  to  learn  it,  your  majesty,"  whispered  the 
countess,  "  squat  like  a  toad,  close  to  the  ear  of  Eve" — "  the  letter 
will  reveal  it. " 

The  empress  frowned.     Oh,  for  Ithuriel  then  ! 

"  Dost  mean  that  I  shall  open  a  letter  which  was  never  intended 
to  be  read  by  me  ?" 

The  countess  pointed  to  the  paper.  "  Your  majesty  has  already 
broken  the  seal.  You  crushed  it  unintentionally.  There  remains 
but  to  unfold  the  paper,  and  every  thing  is  explained.  I  will  wage 
that  it  comes  from  the  beautiful  dancer  Riccardo,  whom  the  em- 
peror admired  so  much  last  night  in  the  ballet,  and  whom  he  de- 
clared to  be  the  most  bewitching  creature  he  had  ever  seen. " 

The  eyes  of  the  empress  dropped  burning  tears,  and,  covering 
her  face  with  her  hands,  she  sobbed  aloud.  Tlien  she  seemed 
ashamed  of  her  emotion,  and  raised  her  beautiful  head  again. 

" It  is  contemptible  so  to  mourn  for  one  who  is  faithless,"  said 
she.  "  It  is  for  me  to  judge  and  to  punish,  and  that  will  I !  It  is 
my  duty  as  ruler  of  Austria  to  bring  crime  to  light.  I  will  soon 
learn  who  it  is  that  dares  to  exchange  letters  with  the  husband  of 
the  rcngning  empress.  And  after  all,  the  speediest,  the  simplest 
way  to  do  tliis,  lies  before  me.  I  must  open  the  letter,  for  justice' 
sake  ;  but  I  swear  that  I  will  not  read  one  word  contained  within  its 
pages.  I  will  see  the  name  of  the  writer  alone  ;  and  then  I  can  be 
sure  that  curiosity  and  personal  interest  have  not  prompted  me. " 

And  so  Maria  Theresa  silenced  her  scruples,  and  persuaded  her- 
self that  she  was  compelled  to  do  as  tlie  tempter  had  suggested.  She 
tore  open  the  note  ;  but  true  to  her  self-imposed  vow,  slie  paused  on 
the  threshold  of  dishonor,  and  read  nothing  Imt  the  writer's  name. 

"Riccardo!"  cried  she,  wildly.  "You  were  right,  Margaretta ; 
an  intrigue  with  tlie  Riccardo.  The  emperor  has  written  to  her — the 
emperor,  my  husl)and  !" 

Slie  folded  tlie  fatal  letter,  and  oh,  how  her  white  hands  trembled 
as  slie  laid  it  ujion  the  table  !  and  how  deadly  pale  were  the  cheeks 
that  had  flushed  with  anger  when  Gasjiardi  had  been  by  ! 

Tlie  countess  was  not  deceived  l)y  this  phase  of  the  empress's 


THE  LETTER.  13 

grief.  She  knew  that  the  storm  would  burst,  and  she  thought  it 
better  to  divide  its  wrath.  She  stepped  lightly  out  to  call  the  con- 
fessor of  her  victim. 

Maria  Theresa  was  unconscious  of  being  alone.  She  stood  before 
the  table  staring  at  the  letter.  Gradually  her  paleness  vanished, 
and  the  hue  of  anger  once  more  deepened  on  her  cheeks.  Her  eyes, 
which  had  just  been  drooping  with  tears,  flamed  again  with  indig- 
nation ;  and  her  expanded  nostrils,  her  twitching  mouth,  and  her 
heaving  chest,  betrayed  the  fury  of  the  storm  that  was  raging 
within. 

"Oh,  I  will  trample  her  under  foot!"  muttered  she  between  her 
teeth,  while  she  raised  her  hand  as  if  she  would  fain  have  dealt  a 
death-stroke.  "I  will  prove  to  the  court — to  the  empire — to  the 
world,  how  Maria  Theresa  hates  vice,  and  how  she  punishes  crime, 
without  respect  of  persons.  Both  criminals  shall  feel  the  lash  of 
justice.  If  my  woman's  heart  break,  the  empress  shall  do  her  duty. 
It  shall  not  be  said  that  lust  holds  its  revels  in  Vienna,  as  at  the 
obscene  courts  of  Versailles  and  St.  Petersburg.  No  !  Nor  shall  the 
libertines  of  Vienna  point  to  the  Au.strian  emperor  as  their  model, 
nor  shall  their  weeping  wives  be  taimted  with  reports  of  the  indul- 
gence of  the  Austrian  empress.  Morality  and  decorum  shall  prevail 
in  Vienna.  The  fire  of  my  royal  vengeance  shall  consume  that  bold 
harlot,  and  then — tlien  for  the  emperor  !" 

"Your  majesty  v/ill  never  consent  to  bring  disgrace  upon  the 
father  of  your  imperial  children, "  said  a  gentle  voice  close  by,  and, 
turning  at  the  sound,  the  empress  beheld  her  confessor. 

She  advanced  hastily  toward  Father  Porhammer.  "How!"  ex- 
claimed she  angrily,  "how  ! — you  venture  to  plead  for  the  emperor? 
You  come  hither  to  stay  the  hand  of  justice?" 

"I  do  indeed,"  replied  the  father,  "for  to-day  at  least,  her  hand, 
if  uplifted  against  the  emperor,  must  recoil  upon  the  empress.     The 
honor  of  my  august  sovereigns  cannot  be  divided.     Your  majesty 
must  throw  the  shield  of  your  love  over  the  fault  of  your  imperial 
husband. " 

"  Oh,  I  cannot !  I  cannot  suffer  this  mortal  blow  in  silence, " 
sobbed  the  empress. 

"  Nay, "  said  the  father,  smiling,  "  the  wife  may  be  severe,  though 
the  empress  be  clement. " 

"But  she,  father — must  she  also  be  pardoned?  she  who  has  en- 
ticed my  husband  from  his  conjugal  faith?" 

"As  for  the  Riccardo, "  replied  Father  Porhammer, "I  have  heard 
that  she  is  a  sinful  woman,  whose  beauty  has  led  many  men  astray. 
If  your  majesty  deem  her  dangerous,  she  can  be  made  to  leave 
Vienna  ;  but  let  retribution  go  no  further. " 

"Well,  be  it  so,"  sighed  the  empress,  whose  heart  was  already 
softening.  "  You  are  right,  reverend  father,  but  La  Riccardo  shall 
leave  Vienna  forever. " 

So  saying,  she  hastened  to  her  escritoire,  and  wrote  and  signed 
the  order  for  the  banishment  of  the  danseuse. 

"There,"  cried  she,  handing  the  order  to  the  priest,  "I  pray  you, 
dear  father,  remit  this  to  Count  Bartenstein,  and  let  him  see  that 
she  goes  hence  this  very  day.  And  when  I  shall  have  laid  this  evil 
spirit,  perchance  I  may  find  peace  once  more.  But,  no,  no !"  con- 
tinued she,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears;  "when  she  has  gone,  some 
other  enchantress  will  come  in  her  place  to  charm  my  husband's 


14  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COUET. 

love  away.  Oh,  father,  if  chastity  is  not  in  the  heart,  sin  will 
always  find  entrance  there. " 

"  Yes,  your  majesty  ;  and  therefore  should  the  portals  of  the  heart 
be  ever  guarded  against  the  enemy.  As  watchmen  are  appointed 
to  guard  the  property,  so  are  the  servants  of  God  sent  on  earth  to  ex- 
tend the  protection  of  Heaven  to  the  hearts  of  your  people. " 

"And  why  may  I  not  aid  them  in  their  holy  labors?"  exclaimed 
the  empress,  glowing  suddenly  with  anew  interest.  "Why  may  I 
not  appoint  a  committee  of  good  and  wise  men  to  watch  over  the 
'morals  of  my  subjects,  and  to  warn  them  from  temptation,  ere  it 
has  time  to  become  sin?  Come,  father,  you  must  aid  me  in  this 
good  work.  Help  me  to  be  the  earthly,  as  the  Blessed  Virgin  is  the 
heavenly  mother  of  the  Austrian  people.  Sketch  me  some  plan 
whereby  I  may  organize  my  scheme.  I  feel  sure  that  your  sugges- 
tions will  be  dictated  by  that  Heaven  to  which  you  have  devoted 
your  whole  life." 

"May  the  spirit  of  counsel  and  the  spirit  of  wisdom  enligten  my 
understanding,"  said  the  father,  with  solemn  fervor,  "that  I  may 
worthily  accomplish  the  mission  with  which  my  empress  has  in- 
trusted me !" 

"  But,  your  majesty, "  whispered  the  Countess  Fuchs,  "  in  your 
magnanimous  projects  for  your  people,  you  are  losing  sight  of  your- 
self. The  Riccardo  has  not  yet  been  banished ;  and  the  emperor, 
seeing  that  no  answer  is  coming  to  his  note,  may  seek  an  interview. 
Who  can  guess  the  consequences  of  a  meeting?" 

The  empress  shivered,  as  the  countess  probed  the  wounds  herself 
had  made  in  that  poor,  jealous  heart. 

"  True,  true, "  returned  she,  in  an  unsteady  voice.  "  Go,  father, 
and  begin  my  work  of  reform,  by  casting  out  that  wicked  woman 
from  among  the  unhappy  wives  of  Vienna.  I  myself  will  announce 
her  departure  to  the  emperor.  And  now,  dear  friends,  leave  me. 
You,  father,  to  Count  Bartenstein.  Countess,  recall  Charlotte,  and 
send  me  my  tire-women.  Let  the  princes  and  princesses  be  regally 
attired  to-day.     I  will  meet  the  emperor  in  their  midst. " 

The  confessor  bowed  and  retired,  and  the  countess  opening  the 
door  of  the  inner  dressing-room,  beckoned  to  Charlotte,  who,  in  the 
recess  of  a  deep  bay-window,  sat  wearily  awaiting  the  summons  to 
return. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE  TOILET  OF  THE  EMPRESS. 

So  dark  and  gloomy  was  the  face  of  the  empress,  that  poor  Char- 
lotte's heart  misgave  her,  as  with  a  suppressed  sigli  she  resumed  her 
place,  and  once  more  took  down  the  rich  masses  of  her  sovereign 
lady's  hair.  Maria  Tlieresa  looked  sternly  at  the  reflection  of  her 
little  maid  of  honor's  face  in  tlie  glass.  She  saw  how  Charlotte's 
hands  trembled,  and  this  increased  her  ill-humor.  Again  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  her  own  image,  and  saw  plainly  that  anger  was  unbe- 
coming to  her.  The  flush  on  her  face  was  not  rosy,  but  i>urple  ;  and 
the  scowl  upon  Ikm-  brow  was  fast  deepening  into  a  wrinkle.  Her 
bosom  heaved  with  a  heavy,  heavy  sigh. 

"Ah,"  thought  she,  "  if  I  am  cA^er  again  to  find  favor  in  his  eyes, 


THE  TOILET  OF  THE   EMPRESS.  15 

I  must  always  smile  ;  for  smiles  are  the  last  glowing  tints  of  beavity's 
sunset.  And  yet,  how  can  I  smile,  when  my  heart  is  breaking? 
He  said  that  the  Riccardo  was  the  loveliest  woman  he  had  ever  seen. 
Alas  !  I  remember  the  day  wlien  he  knelt  at  my  feet,  and  spoke  thus 
.  of  me.     Oil,  my  Franz  !     Am  I  indeed  old,  and  no  longer  lovable?" 

In  her  anxiety  to  scrutinize  her  own  features,  the  empress  bent 
suddenly  forward,  and  the  heavy  mass  of  puflfs  and  braids  that 
formed  the  coiffure  she  had  seleced  for  the  day,  gave  way.  She  felt 
the  sharp  points  of  the  hair-pins  in  her  head,  and,  miserable  and 
nervous  as  she  was,  they  seemed  to  wound  her  cruelly.  Starting 
from  her  chair,  she  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  reproaches  upon  Char- 
lotte's head,  who,  pale  and  trembling  more  than  ever,  repaired  the 
damage,  and  placed  among  the  braids  a  bouquet  of  white  roses. 
These  white  roses  deepened  the  unbecoming  redness  of  the  empress's 
face.  She  perceived  this  at  once,  and  losing  all  self-control,  tore 
the  flowers  from  her  hair,  and  daslied  them  on  the  floor. 

"  Yovi  are  all  leagued  against  me, "  cried  she,  indignantly.  "  You 
are  trying  your  best  to  disfigure  me,  and  to  make  me  look  old  before 
my  time.  Who  ever  saw  such  a  ridiculous  structure  as  this  head- 
dress, that  makes  me  look  like  a  jjerambulating  castle  on  a  chess- 
board? Come,  another  CO iffuru,  and  let  it  not  be  such  a  ridiculous 
one  as  this. " 

Charlotte,  of  course,  did  not  remind  her  mistress  that  the  coiffure 
and  roses  had  been  her  own  selection.  She  had  nothing  to  do  but  to 
obey  in  silence,  and  begin  her  work  again. 

At  last  tlie  painful  task  vias  at  an  end.  The  empress  looked 
keenly  at  herself  in  the  glass,  and  convinced  that  she  really  looked 
well,  she  called  imperatively  for  her  tire-women.  In  came  the 
procession,  bearing  hooped-skirt,  rich-embroidered  train,  golden- 
flowered  petticoat,  and  bodice  flashing  with  diamonds.  But  the 
empress,  usvially  so  affable  at  her  toilet,  surveyed  botli  maids  and 
apparel  with  gloomy  indifference.  In  moody  silence  she  reached 
ovit  her  feet,  while  her  slippers  were  exchanged  for  high-heeled 
shoes.  Not  a  look  had  she  to  bestow  upon  the  magnificent  dress 
which  enhanced  a  thousandfold  her  mature  beauty.  Without  a  word 
she  dismissed  the  maids  of  honor,  all  except  Cliarlotte,  wliose 
crowning  labor  it  was  to  give  the  last  touch  to  the  imperial  head 
when  the  rest  of  the  toilet  had  been  declared  to  be  complete. 

Again  Maria  Theresa  stood  before  that  high  Venetian  glass,  and 
certainly  it  did  give  back  the  image  of  a  regal  beauty.  For  a  while 
she  examined  her  costume  from  head  to  foot ;  and  at  last — at  last, 
her  beautiful  blue  eyes  beamed  bright  with  satisfaction,  and  a  smile 
rippled  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

" No, "  said  she,  aloud.  "No,  it  is  not  so.  I  am  neither  old  noi 
ugly.  The  light  of  youth  has  not  yet  fled  from  my  brow.  My 
beauty's  sun  has  not  yet  set  forever.  My  Franz  Avill  love  me  still ; 
and  however  charming  yoimger  women  may  be,  he  will  remember 
the  beloved  of  his  boyhood,  and  we  will  yet  be  happy  in  reciprocal 
affection,  come  what  may  to  us  r.s  emperor  and  empress.  I  do  not 
believe  that  he  said  he  had  never  seen  so  lovely  a  woman  as  Ric- 
cardo. Poor,  dear  Franz !  He  has  a  tedious  life  as  husband  of  the 
reigning  sovereign.  From  sheer  ennui  he  sometimes  wanders  from 
his  wife's  heart,  but  oh!  he  must,  he  must  return  to  me;  for  if  I 
were  to  lose  him,  earthly  splendor  would  be  valueless  to  me  forever  !" 

Charlotte,  who  stood  behind  her  mistress  with  the  comb  in  her 


16  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

hand,  was  dismayed  at  all  that  she  heard ;  and  the  plaintive  tones 
of  this  niagjniticent  empress,  at  whose  feet  lay  a  world  of  might, 
touched  her  heart's  core.  But  she  sickened  as  she  thought  that  her 
presence  had  been  unheeded,  and  that  the  empress  had  fancied  her- 
self rjone,  while  the  secrets  of  her  heart  were  thus  struggling  into 
words.  The  ample  train  completely  screened  little  Charlotte  from 
view,  and  a  deadly  paleness  overspread  her  countenance  as  she 
awaited  discovery. 

Suddenly  the  empress  turned,  and  putting  her  hand  tenderly  on 
Charlotte's  head,  she  said,  in  a  voice  of  indescribable  melancholy : 
"  Be  warned,  Charlotte,  and  if  you  marry,  never  marry  a  man  who 
has  nothing  to  do.     Men  will  grow  inconstant  from  sheer  ennui. "  * 

"  I  never  expect  to  marry,  beloved  mistress, "  said  tlie  yoiiug  girl, 
deeply  touched  by  this  confidence.  "  I  wish  to  live  and  die  in  your 
majesty's  service." 

"Do  you?  And  can  you  bear  for  a  lifetime  with  my  impatience, 
dear  child?"  asked  the  empress,  kissing  the  little  devotee  on  the 
forehead.  "'You  know  now,  my  little  Chai'lotte,  why  I  have  been 
so  unkind  to-day  ;  you  know  that  my  heart  was  bleeding  with  such 
anguish,  that  had  I  not  broken  out  in  auger,  I  must  have  stifled  with 
agony.  You  have  seen  into  the  depths  of  my  heart,  and  why  should 
I  not  confide  in  you,  who  know  every  secret  of  my  state-council? 
No  one  suspects  what  misery  lies  under  the  regal  mantle.  And  I 
care  not  to  exhibit  myself  to  the  world's  pitJ^  When  Maria  Theresa 
weeps,  let  her  God  and  tliose  who  love  her  be  the  witnesses  of  her 
sorrow.  Go,  now,  good  little  Charlotte,  and  forget  every  thing 
except  your  sovereign's  love  for  you.  Tell  the  governess  of  the 
Archduke  Ferdinand  to  bring  him  hither.  Let  the  other  imperial 
children  await  me  in  my  reception-room ;  and  tell  the  page  in  the 
anteroom  to  announce  to  his  majesty  that  I  request  the  honor  of  a 
visit  from  him. " 

Charlotte,  once  more  happy,  left  the  room,  her  heart  filled  with 
joy  for  herself,  and  gentle  sorrow  for  her  sovereign. 

Meanwhile  the  empress  thought  over  the  coming  interview.  "I 
will  try  to  recall  him  to  me  by  love, "  murmured  she,  softly.  "I 
will  not  reproach  him,  and  although  as  his  empress  I  have  a  double 
claim  upon  his  loyalty,  I  will  not  appeal  to  any  thing  but  his  own 
dear  heart ;  and  when  he  hears  how  he  has  made  his  poor  Theresa 
suff"er,  I  know — " 

Here  her  voice  failed  her,  and  tears  filled  her  eyes.  But  she 
dashed  them  quickly  away,  for  ste])s  approached,  and  the  governess 
entered,  with  the  infant  prince  in  her  arms. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

HUSBAND    AND    WIFE, 

A  HALF  an  hour  later,  the  princes  and  princesses  of  Austi'ia  were 
all  assembled  in  tlieir  mother's  private  parlor.  They  were  a  beauti- 
ful grou]).  The  empress,  in  their  midst,  held  little  Ferdinand  in 
her  arms.  Close-])eeping  through  the  folds  of  tlieir  mother's  rich 
dress,  were  three  other  little  ones  ;  and  a  few  steps  farther  were  the 
Archduchesses  Christine  and  Amelia.  Near  the  open  harpsichord 
*  Maria  Theresa's  words.   See  Caroline  Pichler,  "  Memoirs  of  My  Life." 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE.  17 

stood  the  graceful  form  of  the  empress's  eldest  child,  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  who  now  and  then  ran  her  fingers  lightly  over  the  in- 
strument, while  she  awaited  the  arrival  of  her  father. 

In  the  pride  of  her  maternity  and  beauty  stood  the  empress-queen  ; 
but  her  heart  throbbed  painfully,  though  she  smiled  upon  her  chil- 
dren. 

The  page  announced  the  coming  of  the  emperor,  and  then  left 
the  room.  The  empress  made  a  sign  to  her  eldest  daughter,  who 
seated  herself  before  the  harpsichord.  The  door  opened,  and  on  the 
threshold  appeared  the  tall,  elegant  form  of  the  Empei-or  Francis. 

Elizabeth  began  a  brilliant  "  Welcome, "  and  all  the  young  voices 
joined  in  one  loud  chorus,  "  Long  live  our  emperor,  our  sovereign, 
and  our  father  !"  sang  the  children  ;  but  clear  above  them  all  were 
heard  the  sonorous  tones  of  the  mother,  exclaiming  in  the  fulness  pf 
her  love,  "Long  live  my  emperor,  and  my  husband!"  As  if  eveiy 
tender  chord  of  Maria  Theresa's  heart  had  been  struck,  she  broke 
forth  into  one  of  Metastasio's  most  passionate  songs  ;  while  Eliza- 
beth, catching  the  inspiration,  accompanied  her  mother  with  sweet- 
est melody.  The  empress,  her  little  babe  in  her  arms,  was  wrapped 
up  in  the  ecstasy  of  the  moment.  Never  had  she  looked  more  en- 
chanting tlian  she  did  as  she  ceased,  and  gave  one  look  of  love  to 
her  admiring  husband. 

The  emperor  contemplated  for  a  moment  the  lovely  grovip  before 
him,  and  then,  full  of  emotion,  came  forward,  and  bonding  over 
his  wife,  he  kissed  the  round  white  arm  that  held  the  baby,  and 
whispered  to  the  mother  a  few  words  of  rapture  at  her  surpassing 
beauty. 

"  But  tell  me,  gracious  empress, "  said  he,  aloud,  "  to  what  am  I 
indebted  for  this  charming  surprise?" 

The  eyes  of  the  empress  shot  fire,  but  in  lieu  of  a  reply,  she  bent 
down  to  the  little  Archduchess  Josepha,  who  was  just  old  enough  to 
lisp  her  father's  name,  and  said  : 

"  Josepha,  tell  the  emperor  what  festival  we  celebrate  to-day. " 
The  little  one,  turning  to  her  father,  said,  "To-day  is  imperial 
mamma's  wedding-day. " 

" Our  wedding-day  !"  murmured  the  emperor,  "and  I  could  for- 
get it !" 

"  Oh,  no  !  my  dear  husband, "  said  the  empress,  "  I  am  sure  that 
you  cannot  have  forgotten  this  joyous  anniversary.  Its  remem- 
brance only  slumbered  in  yovir  heart,  and  the  presence  of  your  chil- 
dren here,  I  trust,  has  awakened  that  remembrance,  and  carried 
you  back  with  me  to  the  happy,  happy  days  of  our  early  love. " 

The  voice  of  the  wife  was  almost  tearful,  as  she  spoke  those  ten- 
der words  ;  and  the  emperor,  touched  and  humbled  at  the  thought  of 
his  own  oversight,  sought  to  change  the  subject.  "  But  why, "  asked 
he,  looking  ax'ound,  "why,  if  all  our  other  children  are  here  to  greet 
their  father,  is  Joseph  absent  from  this  happy  family  gathering?" 

"  He  has  been  disobedient  and  obstinate  again, "  said  the  empress, 
with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders,  "and  his  preceptor,  to  punish  him, 
kept  him  awaj'. " 

The  emperor  walked  to  the  door.  "  Surely, "  exclaimed  he,  "  on 
such  a  day  as  this,  when  all  my  dear  children  are  around  me,  my 
son  and  the  future  emperor  should  be  the  first  to  bid  me  welcome." 

"Stay,  my  husband,"  cried  the  empress,  who  had  no  intention  of 
allowing  the  emperor  to  escape  so  easily  from  his  embarrassment. 


18  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  You  must  be  content  to  remain  with  us,  without  the  future  em- 
peror of  Germany,  whose  reign,  I  hope  I  may  be  allowed  to  pray,  is 
yet  for  some  years  postponed.  Or  is  this  a  happy  device  of  the 
future  emperor's  father  to  remind  me,  on  my  wedding-day,  that  I 
am  growing  old  enough  to  begin  to  think  of  the  day  of  my  decease  V" 

The  emperor  was  perfectly  amazed.  Although  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  such  outbvirsts  on  the  part  of  his  wife,  he  searched  vainly 
in  liis  heart  for  the  cause  of  her  intense  bitterness  to-day.  He 
looked  his  astonishment ;  and  the  empress,  mindful  of  her  resolve 
not  to  reproach  him,  tried  her  best  to  smile. 

The  emperor  shook  his  head  thoughtfully  as  he  watched  her  face, 
and  said  half  aloud :  "  All  is  not  right  with  thee,  Theresa ;  thou 
smilest  like  a  lioness,  not  like  a  woman. " 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  she  sharply,  "the  lioness  has  called  you 
to  look  upon  her  whelps.  One  day  they  will  be  lions  and  lionesses 
too,  and  in  that  day  they  will  avenge  the  injuries  of  their  mother." 

The  empress,  as  she  spoke,  felt  that  her  smothered  jealovisj'  was 
bursting  forth.  She  hastily  dismissed  her  children,  and  going  her- 
self to  the  door,  she  called  for  the  governess  of  the  baby,  and  almost 
thi'ew  him  in  her  arms. 

"I  foresee  the  coming  of  a  storm, "  thought  the  emperor,  as  the 
door  being  closed,  Maria  Theresa  came  quickly  back,  and  stood  be- 
fore him. 

"And  is  it  indeed  true,"  said  she  bitterly,  "that  you  had  forgot- 
ten your  wedding-day"?  Not  a  throb  of  your  heart  to  remind  you  of 
the  past !" 

"My  memory  does  not  cling  to  dates,  Theresa, "  replied  the  em- 
peror. "What,  if  to-day  be  accidentally  the  anniversary  of  our 
marriage?  With  every  beating  of  my  heart,  1  celebrate  the  hour 
itself,  when  I  won  the  j^roud  and  beautiful  heiress  of  Austria  ;  and 
when  I  remember  that  she  deigned  to  love  me,  the  jDoor  Archduke 
of  Lorraine,  my  happiness  overwhelms  me.  Come,  then,  my  beau- 
tiful, my  beloved  Theresa  ;  come  to  my  heart,  that  I  may  thank  jou 
for  all  the  blessings  that  I  owe  to  your  love.  See,  dearest,  we  are 
alone  ;  let  us  forget  royalty  for  to-day,  and  be  happy  together  in  all 
the  fulness  of  mutual  confidence  and  affection." 

So  saying,  he  would  have  pressed  her  to  his  heart,  but  the  em- 
press drew  coldly  back,  and  turned  deadly  pale.  This  tmembar- 
rassed  and  confident  tenderness  irritated  her  beyond  expression. 
That  her  faithless  spouse  sliould,  without  the  slightest  remorse,  act 
the  part  of  the  devoted  lover,  outraged  her  A-ery  sense  of  decency.* 

"Really,  my  husband,  it  becomes  j'ou  well  to  prate  of  confidence 
and  affection,  who  have  ceased  to  think  of  your  own  wife,  and  have 
eyes  alone  for  the  wife  of  another  !" 

"Again  jealous?"  sighed  the  emperor  wearily.  "Will  you  never 
cease  to  cloud  our  domestic  sky  by  these  absurd  and  groundless 
suspicions?" 

"Groundless!"  cried  the  empress,  tearing  the  letter  violently 
from  lier  bosom.  "With  tliis  proof  of  your  guilt  confronting  you, 
you  will  not  dare  to  saj'  that  I  am  jealous  Avithout  cause  !" 

"Allow  me  to  inquire  of  your  majesty,  what  this  letter  is  to 
prove?" 

"  It  proves  that  to-day  you  have  written  a  letter  to  a  woman,  of 
whom  vcsterdav  you  said  that  she  was  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  woild. " 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE.  19 

"I have  no  recollection  of  saying  such  a  thing  of  any  woman; 
and  I  am  surprised  that  your  majesty  sliould  encourage  your  attend- 
ants to  repeat  such  contemptible  tales, "  replied  the  emperor,  with 
some  bitterness.  "Were  I  like  you,  the  reigning  sovereign  of  a 
great  empire,  I  should  really  find  no  time  to  indulge  in  gossip  and 
scandal. " 

"Your  majesty  will  oblige  me  by  refraining  from  any  comment 
upon  affairs  which  do  not  concern  you.  I  alone  am  reigning  em- 
press here,  and  it  is  for  my  people  to  judge  whether  I  do  my  duty  to 
them  ;  certainly  not  for  you,  who,  while  I  am  with  my  ministers  of 
state,  employ  your  leisure  hours  in  writing  love-letters  to  my  sub- 
jects. " 

"I?  I  write  a  love-letter?"  said  the  emperor. 

"How  dare  you  deny  it?"  cried  the  outraged  empress.  "Have 
you  also  forgotten  that  this  morning  you  sent  Gaspardi  out  of  the 
palace  on  an  errand?" 

"  No,  I  have  not  forgotten  it, "  replied  the  emperor,  with  growing 
astonishment.  But  Maria  Theresa  remarked  that  he  looked  con- 
fused, and  avoided  her  eye. 

"You  confess,  then,  that  you  sent  the  letter,  and  requested  an 
answer  ?" 

"Yes,  but  I  received  no  answer,"  said  the  emperor,  with  em- 
barrassment. 

"  There  is  your  answer, "  thundered  the  enraged  wife.  "  I  took 
it  from  Gaspardi  myself. " 

"  And  is  it  possible,  Theresa,  that  you  have  read  a  letter  addressed 
to  me?"  asked  the  emperor,  in  a  severe  voice. 

The  empress  blushed,  and  her  eyes  sought  the  ground. 

"  No, "  said  she,  "  I  have  not  read  it,  Franz. " 

"But  it  is  open,"  persisted  he,  taking  it  from  his  wife's  hand. 
"Who,  then,  has  dared  to  break  the  seal  of  a  letter  addressed  to 
me?" 

And  the  emperor,  usually  so  mild  toward  his  wife,  stood  erect, 
with  stormy  brow  and  eyes  flashing  with  anger. 

Maria  Theresa  in  her  turn  was  surprised.  She  looked  earnestly 
at  him,  and  confessed  inwardly  that  never  had  she  seen  him  look  so 
handsome  ;  and  she  felt  an  inexplicable  and  secret  pleasure  that  her 
Franz,  for  once  in  his  life,  was  really  angi-y  with  her. 

"  I  broke  the  seal  of  the  letter,  but  I  swear  to  you  that  I  did  not 
read  one  word  of  it, "  replied  she.  "  I  wished  to  see  the  signature 
only,  and  that  signatiu-e  was  enough  to  convince  me  that  I  had  a 
faithless  husband,  who  outrages  an  empress  by  giving  her  a  dancer 
as  her  rival !" 

"The  signature  convinced  you  of  this?"  asked  the  emperor. 

"It  did!" 

"And  you  read  nothing  else?" 

"  Nothing,  I  tell  you. " 

"Then,  madam, "  returned  he,  seriously,  handing  the  letter  back 
to  her,  "  do  me  the  favor  to  read  the  whole  of  it.  After  breaking 
the  seal,  you  need  not  hesitate.     I  exact  it  of  you. " 

The  empress  looked  overwhelmed.  "You  exact  of  me  to  read  a 
love-letter  addressed  to  you?" 

"  Certainly  I  do.  You  took  it  fi-om  my  valet,  you  broke  it  open, 
and  now  I  beg  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  read  it  aloud,  for  I  have  not 
yet  read  it  myself. " 


20  JOSEPH    II.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

"  I  will  read  it,  then,"  cried  the  empress,  scornfully.     *'  And  I 
promise  you  that  I  shall  not  suppress  a  word  of  its  contents." 
"  Eead  on,"  said  the  emperor,  quietly. 
The  empress,  with  loud  and  angry  tone,  began: 

"  To  his  Gracious  Majesty,  the  Emperor: 

"  Your  majesty  has  honored  me  by  asking  my  advice  upon  a  sub- 
ject of  the  highest  importance.  But  your  majesty  is  much  nearer 
the  goal  than  I.  It  is  true  that  my  gracious  master,  the  count,  led 
me  to  the  vestibule  of  the  temple  of  science,  but  further  I  have  not 
penetrated.  What  I  know  I  will  joy  full}'  impart  to  your  majesty; 
rnd  joyfully  will  I  aid  you  in  your  search  after  that  which  the 
whole  world  is  seeking.    I  will  come  at  the  appointed  hour. 

"  Your  majesty's  loyal  servant, 

"  RiCCAKDO." 

"  I  do  not  understand  a  word,"  said  the  mystified  empress. 

"  But  I  do,"  returned  the  emperor,  with  a  meaning  smile.  "  Since 
your  majesty  has  thrust  yourself  into  the  portals  of  my  confidence, 
I  must  e'en  take  you  with  me  into  the  penetralia,  and  confess  at 
once  that  I  have  a  passion,  which  has  cost  me  many  a  sleepless 
night,  and  has  jireoccupied  my  thoughts,  even  when  I  was  by  your 
majesty's  side." 

"  But  I  see  nothing  of  love  or  passion  in  this  letter,"  replied 
Maria  Theresa,  glancing  once  more  at  its  singular  contents. 

"  And  yet  it  speaks  of  nothing  else.  I  may  just  as  well  confess, 
too,  that  in  pursuit  of  the  object  of  my  love,  I  have  spent  three  hun- 
dred thousand  guilders,  and  thrown  away  at  least  one  hundred 
thousand  guilders'  worth  of  diamonds." 

"  Your  mistress  must  be  either  very  coj'  or  very  grasping,"  said 
Maria  Theresa,  almost  convulsed  with  jealousy. 

"  She  is  very  coy,"  said  the  emperor.  "  All  my  gold  and  dia- 
monds have  won  me  not  a  smile — she  will  not  yield  up  her  secret. 
]!ut  I  believe  that  she  has  responded  to  the  love  of  one  hapjiy  mor- 
tal, Count  Saint-Germain." 

"  Count  Saint-Germain!"  exclaimed  the  empress,  amazed. 

"  Himself,  your  majesty.  He  is  one  of  the  fortunate  few,  to 
v.'hom  the  coy  beauty  has  succumbed;  and  to  take  his  place  I  would 
give  millions.  Now,  I  heard  yesterday  that  the  confidant  of  the 
count  was  in  Vienna;  and,  hoping  to  learn  something  from  him,  I 
invited  him  hither.     Signor  Jitccardo — " 

"  Sif/n'>r  Riccardo!     Was  this  letter  written  by  a  man?  " 

"By  the  hiisl)aiHl  of  the  dancer." 

"And  your  letter  was  addressed  to  him?" 

"  Even  so,  niadanie." 

"  Then  this  passion  of  which  you  speak  is  your  old  passion- 
alchemy." 

"  Yes,  it  is.  I  had  promised  you  to  give  it  up,  but  it  proved 
stronger  than  I.  Not  to  annoy  you,  1  have  ever  since  worked 
secretly  in  my  laboratory.  1  have  just  conceived  a  new  idea.  I 
am  about  to  try  the  experiment  of  consolidating  small  diamonds 
into  one  large  one,  by  means  of  a  burning-glass."- 

The  empress  answered  this  with  a  hearty,  happy  laugh,  aud 
went  up  to  her  husband  with  outstretched  hands. 

"  Franz,"  said  she,  "  1  am  a  simpleton;  and  all  that  has  been  fer^ 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE.  21 

meriting  in  my  heart  is  sheer  nonsense.  My  crown  does  not  prevent 
me  from  being  a  silly  woman.  But,  my  heart's  love,  forgive  my 
folly  for  the  sake  of  my  affection." 

Instead  of  responding  to  this  appeal,  the  emperor  stood  perfectly 
still,  and  gazed  earnestly  and  seriously  at  his  wife. 

"Your  jealousy, "  said  he,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "I  freely 
forgive,  for  it  is  a  source  of  more  misery  to  you  than  to  me.  But  this 
jealousy  has  attacked  my  honor  as  a  man,  and  that  I  cannot  for- 
give. As  reigning  empress,  I  render  you  homage,  and  am  content 
to  occupy  the  second  place  in  Austria's  realms.  I  will  not  deny 
that  such  a  role  is  irksome  to  me,  for  I,  like  you,  have  lofty  dreams 
of  ambition  ;  and  I  could  have  wished  that,  in  giving  me  the  title, 
you  had  allowed  me  sometimes  the  privileges  of  a  co-regent.  But  I 
have  seen  that  my  co- regency  irritated  and  annoyed  you  ;  I  have, 
therefore,  renounced  all  thought  of  governing  empires.  I  have 
done  this,  not  only  because  I  love  you,  Theresa,  but  because  you  are 
worthy  by  your  intellect  to  govern  your  people  without  my  help. 
In  the  world,  therefore,  I  am  known  as  the  husband  of  the  reigning 
empress  ;  but  at  home  I  am  lord  of  my  own  household,  and  here  I 
reign  supreme.  The  emperor  may  be  subordinate  to  his  sovereign, 
but  the  man  will  acknowledge  no  superior  ;  and  the  dignity  of  his 
manhood  shall  be  respected,  even  by  yourself. " 

"Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  ever  seek  to  wound  it !"  exclaimed 
Maria  Theresa,  while  she  gazed  with  rapture  upon  her  husband's 
noble  countenance,  and  thought  that  never  had  he  looked  so  hand- 
some as  at  this  moment,  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  asserted  his 
authority  against  herself. 

"  You  have  wounded  it,  your  majesty, "  replied  the  emperor,  with 
emphasis.  "  You  have  dogged  my  steps  with  spies  ;  you  have  suf- 
fered my  character  to  be  discussed  by  your  attendants.  You  have 
gone  so  far  as  to  compromise  me  with  my  own  servants;  forcing 
them  to  disobey  me  by  virtue  of  your  rights  as  sovereign,  exercised 
in  opposition  to  mine  as  your  husband.  /  gave  Gaspardi  orders  to 
deliver  Riccardo's  note  to  me  alone.  I  forbade  him  to  tell  any  one 
whither  he  went.  You  took  my  note  from  him  by  force,  and  com- 
mitted the  grave  wrong  of  compelling  a  servant,  hitherto  faithful, 
to  disobey  and  betray  his  master." 

"  I  did  indeed  wrong  j'ou,  dear  Franz, "  said  the  empress,  already 
penitent.  "In  Gaspardi 's  presence  I  will  ask  your  pardon  for  my 
indelicate  intrusion,  and  before  him  I  will  bear  witness  to  his 
fidelity.  I  alone  was  to  blame.  I  promise  you,  too,  to  sin  no  more 
against  you  my  beloved,  for  your  love  is  the  brightest  jewel  in  my 
crown.  Without  it,  no  happiness  would  gi-andeur  give  to  me. 
Forgive  me,  then,  my  own  Franz — forgive  your  unhappy  Theresa  !" 

As  she  spoke,  she  inclined  her  head  toward  her  husband,  and 
looked  up  to  him  with  such  eyes  of  love,  that  he  could  but  gaze  en- 
raptured upon  her  bewitching  beauty. 

"Come,  Franz,  come!"  said  she  tenderly;  "surely,  that  wicked 
jest  of  yours  has  amply  revenged  you.  Be  satisfied  with  having 
given  me  a  heartache  for  jealousy  of  the  coy  mistress  upon  whom 
you  have  wasted  your  diamonds,  and  be  magnanimous. " 

"And  you,  Theresa? — will  you  be  magnanimous  also?  Will  you 
leave  my  servants  and  my  letters  alone,  and  set  no  more  spies  to  dog 
my  steps  ?" 

"  Indeed,  Franz,  I  will  never  behave  as  I  have  done  to-day,  while 


22  JOSEPH  II.   AND  PUS  COURT. 

we  both  live.     Now,  if  3-011  will  sign  my  pardon,  I  will  tell  you  a 
piece  of  news  with  which  I  intend  shortly  to  surprise  all  Austria. " 

"Out  with  it,  then,  and  if  it  is  good  news  I  sign  the  pardon," 
said  the  emperor,  with  a  smile. 

" It  is  excellent  news, "  cried  the  empress,  "for  it  will  give  new 
life  to  Austria.  It  will  bring  down  revenge  upon  our  enemies,  and 
revenge  upon  that  wicked  infidel  who  took  my  beautiful  Silesia 
from  me,  and  who,  boasting  of  his  impiety,  calls  it  enlightenment. " 

"Have  you  not  yet  forgiven  Frederick  for  that  little  bit  of  Silesia 
that  he  stole  from  you?"  asked  the  emperor,  laughing. 

"  No,  I  have  not  yet  forgiven  him,  nor  do  I  ever  expect  to  do  so. 
I  owe  it  to  him,  that,  years  ago,  I  came  like  a  beggar  before  the 
Magyars  to  whimper  for  help  and  defence.  I  have  never  yet  forgot- 
ten the  humiliation  of  that  day,  Franz. " 

"And  yet,  Theresa,  we  must  confess  that  Frederick  is  a  great 
man,  and  it  were  well  for  Austria  if  we  were  allies ;  for  such  an 
alliance  would  secure  the  blessings  of  a  stable  peace  to  Europe. " 

"  It  cannot  be, "  cried  the  empress.  "  There  is  no  sympathy  be- 
tween Austria  and  Prussia,  and  peace  will  never  come  to  Europe 
until  one  succumbs  to  the  other.  No  dependence  is  to  be  placed 
upon  alliances  between  incongruous  nations.  In  spite  of  our  allies, 
the  English,  the  Dutch,  and  the  Russians,  the  King  of  Prussia  has 
robbed  me  of  my  province ;  and  all  the  help  I  have  ever  got  from 
them  was  empty  condolence.  For  this  reason  I  have  sought  for 
alliance  with  another  power — a  power  which  will  cordially  unite 
with  me  in  crushing  that  hateful  infidel,  to  whom  nothing  in  life 
is  sacred.  This  is  the  news  that  I  promised  you.  Our  treaty  with 
England  and  Holland  is  about  to  expire,  and  the  new  ally  I  have 
fovmd  for  Austria  is  France. " 

"  An  alliance  with  France  is  not  a  natural  one  for  Austria,  and 
can  never  be  enduring, "  exclaimed  the  emperor.* 

"It  will  be  enduring,"  cried  Maria  Theresa,  proudly,  "for  it  is 
equally  desired  by  both  nations.  Not  only  Louis  XV.,  but  the  Mar- 
quise de  Pompadour  is  impatient  to  have  the  treaty  signed. " 

"That  means  that  Kaunitz  has  been  flattering  the  marquise,  and 
the  marquise,  Kaunitz.  But  words  are  not  treaties,  and  the  mar- 
quise's promises  are  of  no  consequence  whatever." 

"  But,  Franz,  I  tell  you  that  we  have  gone  further  than  words. 
Of  this,  however,  no  one  knows,  except  the  King  of  France,  myself, 
Kaunitz,  and  the  mai-quise. " 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  manage  to  buy  the  good-will  of  the 
marquise?     How  many  millions  did  you  pay  for  the  precious  boon?" 

"  Not  a  kreutzer,  dear  luishaiul,  only  a  letter. " 

"Letter!     Letter  from  wlu)m?" 

"  A  letter  from  me  to  the  marquise. " 

"  What !"  cried  the  emperor,  laughing.  "  You  write  to  La  Pom- 
padour— yoU;  Tlieresa ?" 

"Witli  my  own  hand,  I  have  written  to  her,  and  more  than 
once, "  returned  Maria  Theresa,  joining  in  the  laugh.  "And  what 
do  you  suppose  I  did.  to  save  my  lionor  in  the  matter?  I  pretended 
to  think  that  she  was  the  wife  of  tlie  king,  and  addressed  her  as 
'Madame,  ina  soeiir  et  cousine. '" 

Here  the  emperor  laughed  immoderately.     "Well,   well!"   ex- 

*  The  emperor's  own  words.  Coxe,  "  History  of  the  House  of  Austria,"  vol.  v., 
p.  67. 


THE  AECHDUKE  JOSEPH.  23 

claimed  he.     "  So  the  Empress -Queen  of  Austria  and  Hungary  writes 
with  her  own  hand  to  her  beloved  cousin  La  Pompadour  !" 

"And  do  you  know  what  she  calls  meV"  laughed  the  empress  in 
i-eturn.  "Yesterday  I  had  a  letter  from  her  in  which  she  calls  me, 
sportively,  'Ma  chere  reine. '" 

The  emperor  broke  out  into  such  a  volley  of  laughter,  that  he 
threw  himself  back  upon  a  chair,  which  broke  under  him,  and  the 
empress  had  to  come  to  his  assistance,  for  he  was  too  convulsed  to 
get  up  alone.  * 

"Oh  dear!  oh  dear!"  groaned  the  emperor,  still  continuing  to 
laugh.  "I  shall  die  of  this  intelligence.  Maria  Theresa  in  corre- 
spondence witli  Madame  d'Etioles  !" 

"Well,  what  of  it,  Franz V"  asked  Maria  Theresa.  "Did  I  not 
write  to  the  prima  donna  Farinelli  when  we  were  seeking  alliance 
with  Spain?  and  is  the  marquise  not  as  good  as  a  soprano  singer?"  f 

The  emperor  looked  at  her  with  such  a  droll  expression  that  she 
gave  up  all  idea  of  defending  herself  from  ridicule,  and  laughed  as 
heartily  as  he  did. 

At  this  moment  a  page  knocked,  and  announced  the  Archduke 
Joseph  and  liis  preceptor. 

"Poor  lad!"  said  the  emperor;  "I  suppose  he  comes,  as  usual, 
accompanied  by  an  accuser. " 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE  ARCHDUKE  JOSEPH. 

The  emperor  was  right ;  Father  Francis  came  in  with  complaints 
of  his  highness.  While  the  father  with  great  pathos  set  forth  the 
reason  of  the  archduke's  absence  from  the  family  circle,  the  culprit 
stood  by,  apparently  indifferent  to  all  that  was  being  said.  But, 
to  any  one  observing  him  closely,  his  tremulous  mouth,  and  the 
short,  convulsive  sighs,  which  he  vainly  strove  to  repress,  showed 
the  real  anxiety  of  his  fast-beating  heart.  He  thrust  back  his  rising 
tears,  for  the  little  prince  was  too  proud  to  crave  sympathy  ;  and 
he  had  already  learned  how  to  hide  emotion  by  a  cold  and  haughty 
bearing.  From  his  childhood  he  liad  borne  a  secret  sorrow  in  his 
heart — the  sorrow  of  seeing  his  young  brother  Carl  preferred  to  him- 
self. Not  only  was  Carl  the  darling  of  his  parents,  but  he  was  the 
pet  and  plaything  of  the  whole  palace.  True,  the  poor  little  arch- 
duke was  not  gifted  with  the  grace  and  charming  naivete  of  his 
brother.  He  was  awkward,  serious,  and  liis  countenance  wore  an 
expression  of  discontent,  which  was  thouglit  to  betray  an  evil  dis- 
position, but  which,  in  reality,  was  but  the  reflection  of  the  heavy 
sorrow  which  clouded  his  young  heart.  No  one  seemed  to  under- 
stand— no  one  seemed  to  love  liim.  Alone  in  the  midst  of  that  gay 
and  splendid  court,  he  was  never  noticed  except  to  be  chided. :):  The 
buds  of  his  poor  young  heart  were  blighted  by  the  mildew  of  neglect, 
so  that  outwardly  he  was  cold,  sarcastic,  and  sullen,  while  inwardly 
he  glowed  with  a  thousand  emotions,  which  he  dared  reveal  to  no 
one,  for  no  one  seemed  to  dream  that  he  was  capable  of  feeling  them. 

*  Historical. 

+  The  empress's  own  words.     Coxe,  vol.  v.,  p.  68, 

iHubner,  "  Life  of  Josepli  II.,"  page  15. 

3 


24  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

To-day,  as  usual,  he  was  brought  before  his  parents  as  a  culprit ; 
and  without  daring  to  utter  a  word  in  his  own  defence,  he  stood  by, 
while  Father  Francis  told  how  many  times  he  had  yawned  over  the 
"  Lives  of  the  Martyrs ;"  and  how  he  had  refused  to  read,  longer 
than  one  hour,  a  most  edifying  commentary  of  the  Fathers  on  the 
Holy  Scrii^tures. 

The  empress  heard  with  displeasure  of  her  son's  lack  of  piety  ; 
and  she  looked  severely  at  him,  while  he  gazed  sullenly  at  a  portrait 
that  hung  opposite. 

"  And  can  it  be,  my  son, "  exclaimed  she,  "  that  you  close  your 
heart  against  the  word  of  God,  and  refuse  to  read  religious 
books?" 

The  boy  gave  her  a  glance  of  defiance.  "  I  do  not  know, "  said 
he,  carelessly,  "  whether  the  books  are  religious  or  not ;  but  I  know 
that  they  are  tiresome,  and  teach  me  nothing. " 

"Gracious  Heaven!"  cried  the  empress,  with  horror,  "hear  the 
impious  child  !" 

"  Rather,  your  majesty, "  said  Father  Francis,  "  let  us  pray  Heaven 
to  soften  liis  heart. "  The  emperor  alone  said  nothing  ;  but  he  looked 
at  the  boy  with  a  friendly  and  sympathizing  glance.  The  child  saw 
the  look,  and  for  one  moment  a  flush  of  pleasure  passed  over  his 
face.  He  raised  his  eyes  with  an  appealing  expression  toward  his 
father,  who  could  no  longer  resist  the  temptation  of  coming  to 
his  relief. 

"Perhaps,"  suggested  he,  "the  books  may  be  dull  to  a  child  of 
Joseph's  years." 

"  No  book. "  returned  the  empress,  "  should  be  dull  that  treats  of 
God  and  of  His  holy  Church. " 

"And  the  work,  your  majesty,  which  we  were  reading,  was  a 
most  learned  and  celebrated  treatise, "  said  Father  Francis ;  "  one 
highly  calculated  to  edify  and  instruct  youth. " 

Joseph  turned  away  from  the  father,  and  spoke  to  the  emperor. 

"  We  have  already  gone  through  five  volumes  of  it,  your  majesty, 
and  I  am  tired  to  death  of  it.  Moreover,  I  don't  believe  half  that  I 
read  in  his  stupid  books. " 

The  empress,  as  she  heard  this,  uttered  a  cry  of  pain.  She  felt 
an  icy  coldness  benumb  her  heart,  as  she  remembered  that  this  un- 
believing boy  was  one  day  to  succeed  her  on  the  throne  of  Austria. 
The  emperor,  too,  was  pained.  By  tlie  deadly  paleness  of  her  face, 
he  guessed  the  pang  that  was  rending  his  wife's  heart,  and  he  dared 
say  no  more  in  defence  of  his  son. 

"Your  majesty  sees,"  continued  Father  Francis,  "how  far  is  the 
heart  of  his  highness  from  God  and  the  Church.  His  instructors  are 
grieved  at  liis  precocious  unbelief,  and  they  are  this  day  to  confer 
together  iipon  tlie  painful  subject.  The  hour  of  the  conference  is  at 
hand,  and  I  crave  your  majesty's  leave  to  lepair  thither." 

"  No, "  said  the  empress,  with  a  deprecating  gesture  ;  "  no.  Re- 
main, good  father.  Let  this  conference  he  held  in  the  presence  of 
the  emperor  and  myself.  It  is  fitting  that  we  botli  know  the  worst 
in  regard  to  our  child. " 

The  emperor  bowed  acquiescence,  and  crossing  the  room,  took  a 
seat  by  tlie  side  of  the  empress. 

He  rang  a  little  golden  bell ;  and  the  page  who  came  at  the  sum- 
mons, was  ordered  to  recjuest  tlie  attendance  of  the  preceptors  of  his 
highness  the  Crown  Prince  of  Austria. 


THE  ARCHDUKE  JOSEPH.  25 

Maria  Theresa  leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand,  and  with  a  sad 
and  perplexed  countenance  watched  the  open  door.  The  emperor, 
with  his  arm  thrown  over  the  gilded  back  of  the  divan,  looked  ear- 
nestly at  the  young  culprit,  who,  pale,  and  with  a  beating  heart,  was 
trying  his  best  to  suppress  his  increasing  emotion. 

"I  will  not  cry, "  thought  he,  scarcely  able  to  resti'aiu  his  tears  ; 
"  for  tliat  would  be  a  triumph  for  my  detestable  teachers.  I  am 
not  going  to  give  them  the  pleasure  of  knowing  that  I  am  miser- 
able." 

And,  by  dint  of  great  exertion,  he  mastered  his  agitation.  He 
was  so  successful,  that  he  did  not  move  a  muscle  nor  turn  his  head 
when  the  solemn  procession  of  his  accusers  entered  the  room. 

First,  at  the  head,  came  Father  Porhammer,  who  gave  him  les- 
sons in  logic  and  physic  ;  after  him  walked  the  engineer  Briguen, 
professor  of  mathematics  ;  then  Herr  von  Leporini,  who  instructed 
him  in  general  history  ;  HeiT  von  Bartenstein,  who  expounded  the 
political  history  of  the  house  of  Austria  ;  Baron  von  Beck,  who  was 
his  instructor  in  judicature ;  and  finally,  his  governor,  Count 
Bathiany,  the  only  one  toward  whom  the  young  prince  felt  a  grain 
of  good-will. 

The  empress  greeted  them  with  grave  courtesy,  and  exhorted  them 
to  say  without  reserve  before  his  parents  what  they  thought  of  the 
progress  and  disposition  of  the  archduke. 

Count  Bathiany,  with  an  encouraging  smile  directed  toward  his 
pupil,  assured  their  majesties  that  the  archduke  was  anxious  to  do 
right — not  because  he  was  told  so  to  do  by  others,  but  because  he 
followed  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience.  True,  his  highness 
would  not  see  through  the  eyes  of  any  other  person  ;  but  this,  thougli 
it  might  be  a  defect  in  a  child,  would  be  tlie  reverse  in  a  man — 
above  all,  in  a  sovereign.  "  In  proof  of  the  archduke's  sincere  desire 
to  do  right, "  continued  Count  Bathiany,  "allow  me  to  repeat  to  your 
majesties  something  which  he  said  to  me  yesterday.  We  were 
reading  together  Bellegarde  on  knowledge  of  self  and  of  human 
nature.  The  beautiful  thoughts  of  the  author  so  touched  the  heart 
of  his  highness,  that,  stopping  suddenly,  he  exclaimed  to  me,  'We 
must  read  this  again  ;  for  when  I  come  to  the  throne  I  shall  need  to 
know,  not  only  mj^self,  but  other  men  also. '  " 

"Well  said,  my  son  !"  exclaimed  the  emperor. 

"  I  cannot  agree  with  your  majesty, "  said  the  empress,  coldly. 
"7  do  not  think  it  praiseworthy  for  a  child  of  his  age  to  look  for- 
ward with  complacency  to  the  day  when  liis  mother's  death  will 
confer  upon  him  a  throne.  To  me  it  would  seem  more  natural  if 
Joseph  thought  more  of  his  present  duties  and  less  of  his  future 
honors. " 

A  breathless  silence  followed  these  bitter  words.  The  emperor,  in 
confusion,  withdrew  behind  the  harpsichord.  The  archduke  looked 
perfectly  indifferent.  While  Count  Bathiany  had  been  repeating 
his  words,  his  face  had  slightly  flushed  ;  but  when  he  heard  the  sharp 
reproof  of  his  mother,  he  raised  his  head,  and  gave  her  back  another 
defiant  look.  With  the  same  sullen  haughtiness,  he  stared  first  at 
one  accuser,  and  then  at  another,  while  each  one  in  his  turn  gave 
judgment  against  him.  First,  and  most  vehement  in  his  denuncia- 
tions, was  Count  Bartenstein.  He  denounced  the  archduke  as  idle 
and  inattentive.  He  never  would  have  any  political  sagacity  what- 
ever.    Why,  even  the  great  work,  in  fifteen  folios,  which  he  (Count 


26  JOSEPH   II.   AND   HIS  COURT. 

Bartenstein)  had  compiled  from  the  imperial  archives  for  the  especial 
instruction  of  the  prince,  even  that  failed  to  interest  him  !  * 

Then  followed  the  rest  of  their  professorships.  One  complained 
of  disresjiect ;  another  of  carelessness  ;  a  third  of  disobedience  ;  a 
fourth  of  irrelif^;ion.  All  concurred  in  declaring  the  archduke  to  be 
obstinate,  unfeeling,  and  intractable. 

His  face,  meanwhile,  grew  paler  and  harder,  until  it  seemed 
almost  to  stitTen  into  marble.  Although  every  censorious  word 
went  like  a  dagger  to  his  sensitive  heart,  he  still  kept  on  murmur- 
ing to  himself,  "T  will  no<  cry    T  will  not  cry." 

His  mother  divined  nothing  cf  the  a<Tony  which,  like  a  wild 
tornado,  was  desolating  the  fair  face  of  her  child's  whole  being. 
She  saw  nothing  beyout'  the  portals  of  that  cold  and  sullen  aspect, 
and  the  sight  filled  her  with  sorrow  and  anger. 

"Alas,  "cried  she  bitterly,  "you  are  right!  He  is  a  refractory 
and  unfeeling  bo^-. " 

At  this  moment,  like  the  voice  of  a  conciliatory  angel,  were 
heard  the  soft  tones  of  the  melody  with  which  the  empress  had 
greeted  her  husband  that  morning.  It  was  the  emperor,  whose 
hands  seemed  unconsciously  to  wander  over  the  kej^s  of  the  harpsi- 
chord, wliile  every  head  bent  entranced  to  listen. 

Wlien  tlie  first  tones  of  the  heavenly  melody  fell  upon  his  ear, 
the  young  prince  began  to  tremble.  His  features  softened  ;  his  lips, 
so  scornfully  compressed,  now  parted,  as  if  to  drink  in  every  sound  ; 
his  eyes  filled  witli  tears,  and  every  angry  feeling  of  his  heart  was 
hushed  by  the  magic  of  music.  With  a  voice  of  love  it  seemed  to 
call  him,  and  unable  to  resist  its  power  and  its  pathos,  he  burst  into 
a  flood  of  tears,  and  with  one  bound  reached  his  father's  arms, 
sobbing — 

"Father,  dear  father,  pity  me  !" 

The  emperor  drew  the  poor  boy  close  to  his  heart.  He  kissed  his 
blond  curls,  and  whispering,  said:  "Dear  child,  I  knew  that  you 
were  not  heartless.  I  was  sure  th.at  you  would  come  wdien  your 
father  called. " 

The  empress  had  started  from  her  seat,  and  she  now  stood  in  the 
centre  of  the  room,  earnestly  gazing  upon  her  husband  and  her 
(ihild.  Her  mother's  heart  beat  wildh  ,  and  tears  of  tenderness 
suffused  her  eyes.  Slie  longed  to  ;peak  some  word  of  ])ardon  to  her 
son  ;  but  before  all  things,  Maria  Tlieresa  lionored  court  ceremony. 
She  would  not,  for  the  world,  that  her  subjects  had  seen  her  other- 
wise than  self-possessed  and  regal  in  her  bearing. 

With  on(\great  (.fi'ort  she  mastered  her  einotions  :  and  before  the 
strength  of  h<'r  will,  the  mighty  flood  rolled  back  upon  her  lieart. 
Not  a  tear  that  glistened  in  her  eyelids  fell  ;  not  a  tone  of  her  clear, 
silvery  voice  was  heard  to  falter. 

"Count  Rathiany, "  said  she, "I  perceive  that  in  the  education  of 
the  archduke,  tlie  humanizing  influences  of  music  liavc;  been  over- 
looked. Music  to-day  has  been  more  powerful  with  him  than  filial 
love  or  moral  obligation.  Select  for  him,  then,  a  skilful  teacher, 
who  will  make  use  of  his  art  to  lead  my  sou  back  to  duty  and 
religion."  f 

*  Mormaj  er  says  that  this  book  was  heavy  and  filled  with  tiresome  details.    (No 
wondorl    In  fift«'en  folios.— Trans.) 

t  Maria Tlieresa's own  words.    Coxe,  "House  of  Austria,"  vol.  v. 


KAUNITZ.  2? 

CHAPTER    VI. 

KAUNITZ. 

Three  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the  memorable  sitting  at  which 
Maria  Theresa  had  declared  in  favor  of  a  new  line  of  policy.  Three 
long  weeks  liad  gone  by,  and  still  no  message  came  for  Kaunitz  ;  and 
still  Bartenstein  and  Uhlefeld  held  the  reins  of  power. 

With  hasty  steps,  Kaunitz  paced  the  floor  of  his  study.  Gone 
was  all  coldness  and  impassibility  from  his  face.  His  eyes  glowed 
with  restless  fire,  and  his  features  twitched  nervously. 

His  secretary,  who  sat  before  the  writing-table,  had  been  gazing 
anxiously  at  the  count  for  some  time.  He  shook  his  head  gloomily, 
as  he  contemplated  the  strange  sight  of  Kaunitz,  agitated  and  dis- 
turbed. 

Kaunitz  caught  the  eye  of  his  confidant,  and  coming  hastily 
toward  the  table,  he  stood  for  a  few  moments  w  ithout  speaking  a 
word.  Suddenly  he  burst  into  a  loud,  harsh  laugh — a  laugh  so 
bitter,  so  sardonic,  that  Baron  Binder  turned  pale  as  he  heard  the 
sound. 

"Why  are  you  so  pale.  Binder?"  asked  Kaimitz,  still  laughing. 
"Why  do  you  start  as  if  you  had  received  an  electric  shock?" 

"Your  laughing  is  like  an  electric  shock  to  my  heart, "  replied  the 
baron.  "  Its  sound  was  enough  to  make  a  man  pale.  Why,  for  ten 
years  I  have  lived  under  your  roof,  and  never  have  I  heard  you 
laugh  before." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right.  Binder,  for  in  sooth  my  laugh  echoes 
gloomily  within  the  walls  of  my  own  heart.  But  I  could  not  help 
it — you  had  such  a  droll,  censorious  expression  on  your  face. " 

"  No  wonder, "  returned  Baron  Binder.  "  It  vexes  me  to  see  a 
statesman  so  iri-esolute  and  unmanned. " 

"Statesman!"  exclaimed  Kaunitz,  bitterly.  "Who  knows 
whether  my  role  of  statesman  is  not  played  out  already  ?" 

He  resumed  his  walk  in  moody  silence,  while  Binder  followed 
him  with  his  eyes.  Suddenly  Kaunitz  stopped  again  before  the 
table.  "  Baron, "  said  he,  "  you  have  known  me  intimately  for  ten 
years.  In  all  my  embassies  you  have  been  with  me  as  attache. 
Since  we  have  lived  together,  have  you  ever  known  me  to  be  faint- 
hearted 

"Never!"  cried  the  baron,  "never!  I  have  seen  you  brave  the 
anger  of  monarchs,  the  hatred  of  enemies,  the  treachery  of  friends 
and  mistresses.  I  have  stood  by  your  side  in  more  than  one  duel, 
and  never  befoi'e  have  I  seen  you  otherwise  than  calm  and  resolute. " 

"Judge,  then,  how  sickening  to  me  is  this  suspense,  since,  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  falter.    Oh  !  I  tremble  lest — " 

"Lest  what?"  asked  the  baron,  with  interest. 

"  Binder,  I  fear  that  Maria  Theresa  may  prove  less  an  empress 
than  a  woman.  I  fear  that  the  persuasions  of  the  handsome  Francis 
of  Lorraine  may  outweigli  her  own  convictions  of  right.  What  if 
her  husband's  caresses,  her  confessor's  counsel,  or  her  own  feminine 
caprice,  should  blind  her  to  the  welfare  of  her  subjects  and  the  in- 
terest of  her  empire?  Oh,  what  a  giant  structure  will  fall  to  the 
earth,  if,  at  this  crisis,  the  empress  should  fail  me  !  Think  what  a 
triumph  it  would  be  to  dash  aside  my  rivals  and  seize  the  helm  of 


28  JOSEPH   II.    AKD  HIS  COURT. 

state  !  to  gather,  upon  the  deck  of  one  stout  ship,  all  the  paltry  prin- 
cipalities tliat  call  themselves  'Austria  ;'  to  band  them  into  one  con- 
solidated nation  ;  and  then  to  steer  this  noble  ship  into  a  haven  of 
gi'eatness  and  glorious  peace  !  Binder,  to  this  end  alone  I  live.  I 
have  outlived  all  human  illusions.  I  have  no  faith  in  love — it  is 
bought  and  sold.  No  faith  in  the  tears  of  men  ;  none  in  their  smiles. 
Society,  to  me,  is  one  vast  mad  house.  If,  in  its  frenzied  walls,  I 
show  that  I  am  sane,  the  delirious  thronr  will  shout  out,  'Seize  the 
lunatic  !'  Therefore  must  I  seem  as  mad  as  they,  and  therefore  it  is 
that,  outside  of  this  study,  I  commit  a  thousand  follies.  In  such  a 
woi'ld  I  have  no  faith ;  but,  Binder,  I  believe  in  divine  ambition. 
It  is  the  only  passion  that  has  ever  stirred  my  heart — the  only  pas- 
sion worthy  to  fill  the  soul  of  a  man  !  My  only  love,  then,  '■  ambi- 
tion. My  only  dream  is  of  power.  Oh !  that  1  might  eclipse  and 
outlive  the  names  of  my  rivals !  But  alas !  alas !  I  fear  that  the 
greatness  of  Kaunitz  will  be  wrecked  upon  thr  shoals  of  Maria 
Theresa's  shallowness !" 

"No,  no,"  said  the  baron  vehemently.  "Fear  nothing,  Kaunitz; 
you  are  the  man  who  is  destined  to  make  Austria  great,  and  to  dis- 
perse the  clouds  of  ignorance  that  darken  the  minds  of  her  people. " 

"You  may  be  sure  that  if  ever  I  attain  power.  Binder,  nor  chui-ch 
nor  churchman  shall  have  a  voice  in  Austria.  Kaunitz  alone  shall 
reign.  But  will  Maria  Theresa  consent  ?  Will  she  ever  have  strength 
of  mind  to  buz'st  the  shackles  with  which  sill}^  love  and  silly  devo- 
tion have  bound  her?     I  fear  not.     Religion — " 

Here  the  door  opened,  and  the  count's  valet  handed  a  card  to  the 
secretary. 

"A  visit  from  Count  Bartenstein  !"  exclaimed  the  baron  trium- 
phantly.    "  Ah  !  I  knew—" 

"Will  you  receive  him  here,  in  the  study?" 

"I  will  receive  him  nowhere,"  replied  Kaunitz  coldly.  "Say  to 
the  count, "  added  he  to  the  valet,  "  that  I  am  engaged,  and  beg  to 
be  excused. " 

"What !  You  deny  yourself  to  the  prime  minister?"  cried  Bin- 
der, terrified. 

Kaunitz  motioned  to  the  servant  to  withdraw. 

"Binder,"  said  he  exultingly,  "do  you  not  see  from  this  visit 
that  my  day  is  about  to  dawn,  and  that  Bartenstein  is  the  first  lark 
to  greet  the  rising  sun?  His  visit  proves  that  he  feels  a  presenti- 
ment of  his  fall,  and  my  rebuff  shall  verifj^  it.  The  whole  world 
will  understand  that  when  Bartenstein  was  turned  away  from  my 
door,  I  gave  old  Austria,  as  well  as  himself,  a  parting  kick.  Away 
with  anxiety  and  fear !  The  deluge  is  over,  and  old  Bartenstein  lias 
brought  me  the  olive-branch  that  announces  dry  land  and  safety. " 

"My  dear  count !" 

"Yes,  Binder,  dry  land  and  safety.  Now  we  will  be  merry,  and 
lift  our  head  high  up  into  clouds  of  Olympic  revel !  Away  with 
your  deeds  and  your  parchments !  We  are  no  longer  bookworms, 
but  butterflies.     Let  us  sport  among  the  roses  !" 

While  Kaunitz  spoke,  he  seized  a  hand-bell  from  the  table,  and 
rang  vehemently. 

"  Make  ready  for  me  in  my  dressing-room, "  said  he  to  the  valet. 
"  Let  the  cook  prepare  a  costly  dinner  for  twenty  persons.  Let  the 
steward  select  the  rarest  wines  in  the  cellar.  Tell  him  to  see  that 
the  Champagne  is  not  too  warm,  nor  the  Johannisberg  too  cold ;  the 


THE  TOILET.  29 

Sillery  too  dry,  nor  the  Lachryma  Christi  too  acid.  Order  two  car- 
riages, and  send  one  for  Signora  Ferlina,  and  the  other  for  Signora 
Sacco.  Send  two  footmen  to  Counts  Harrach  and  Colloredo,  with 
my  compliments.  Stay — here  is  a  list  of  the  other  guests.  Send  a 
messenger  to  the  apartments  of  my  sister,  the  countess.  Tell  her, 
with  my  respects,  to  oblige  me  by  dining  to-day  in  her  own  private 
rooms.  I  will  not  need  her  to  preside  over  my  dinner-table  to- 
day." 

"  But,  my  lord, "  stammered  the  valet,  "  the  countess — " 

"Well— what  of  her?" 

"  The  countess  has  been  de — gone  for  a  week. " 

"Gone,  without  taking  leave?    Where?" 

"There,  my  lord, "  replied  the  valet  in  a  low  voice,  pointing  up- 
ward toward  heaven. 

"What  does  he  mean.  Binder?"  asked  Kaunitz,  with  a  shrug. 

Binder  shrugged  responsive. 

"  The  good  countess, "  said  he,  "  had  been  ill  for  some  time,  but 
did  not  wish  to  disturb  you.  You  must  have  been  partially  pre- 
pared for  the  melancholy  event,  for  the  countess  has  not  appeared  at 
table  for  three  weeks. " 

"  Me  ?  Not  at  all.  Do  you  suppose  that  during  these  last  three 
weeks  I  have  had  time  to  think  of  her?  I  never  remarked  her  ab- 
sence.    When  did  the — the — ceremony  take  place?" 

"  Day  before  yesterday.     I  attended  to  every  thing. " 

"  My  dear  friend,  how  I  thank  you  for  sparing  me  the  sight  of 
these  hideous  rites !  Your  arrangements  must  have  been  exqui- 
site, for  I  never  so  much  as  suspected  the  thing.  Fortunately,  it  is 
all  over,  and  we  can  enjoy  ourselves  as  usual.  Here,  Philip.  Let 
the  house  look  festive  :  flowers  on  the  staircases  and  in  the  entrance- 
hall  ;  oranges  and  roses  in  the  dining-room  ;  vanilla-sticks  in  the 
coffee-cups  instead  of  teaspoons.     Away  with  you  !" 

The  valet  bowed,  and  when  he  was  out  of  hearing  Kaunitz  re- 
newed his  thanks  to  the  baron. 

"  Once  more,  thank  you  for  speeding  my  sister  on  her  journey, 
and  for  saving  me  all  knowledge  of  this  impleasant  affair.  How 
glad  the  signoraswillbetohear  that  the  countess  has  positively  gone, 
never  to  return!  Whom  shall  I  get  to  replace  her?  Well,  never 
mind  now  ;  some  other  time  we'll  settle  that  little  matter.  Now  to 
my  toilet. " 

He  bent  his  head  to  the  baron,  and  with  light,  elastic  step  passed 
into  his  dressing-room. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    TOILET. 

When  Kaunitz  entered  his  dressing-room,  his  features  had  re- 
sumed their  usual  immobility.  He  walked  in,  without  seeming  to 
be  aware  of  the  presence  of  his  attendants,  who,  ranged  on  either 
side  of  the  apartment,  awaited  his  commands. 

He  went  up  to  his  large  Venetian  mirror,  and  there  surveyed 
himself  at  full  length.  With  anxious  glance  his  keen  eyes  sought 
out  every  faint  line  that  told  of  the  four-aud-thirty  years  of  his  life. 
The  picture  seemed  deeply  interesting,  for  he  stood  a  long  time 


30  JOSEPH    II.   AND   HIS   COUBT. 

before  the  glass.  At  last  the  scrutiny  was  ended,  and  he  turned 
slig-htly  toward  the  hair-dresser. 

"  Is  the  peruke  ready?  " 

The  hair-dresser  fluttered  off  to  a  bandbox,  that  lay  on  the 
toilet-table;  and  lifted  out  a  fantastic-looking-  blond  iieruke,  con- 
structed after  "  his  excellency's  own  design."  Kaunitz  was  not 
aware  of  it,  but  this  wig  of  his,  with  its  droll  mixture  of  flowing 
locks  before,  and  prim  purse  behind,  was  an  exact  counterpart  of 
the  life  and  character  of  its  inventor.  He  had  had  no  intention  of 
being  sj'mbolic  in  his  contrivance;  it  had  been  solely  designed  to 
conceal  the  little  tell-tale  lines  that  were  just  about  to  indent  the 
smooth  surface  of  his  white  forehead.  He  bent  his  proud  head, 
while  the  hair-dresser  placed  the  wonderful  wig-,  and  then  fell  to 
studying  its  etfect.  Here  he  drew  a  curl  forward,  there  he  gently 
removed  another;  placing  each  one  in  its  position  over  his  eye- 
brows, so  that  no  treacherous  side-light  should  reveal  any  thing  he 
chose  to  hide.  Finally  the  work  was  done.  "  Hippolyte,"  said  he, 
to  the  hair-dresser,  who  stood  breathlessly  by,  "  this  is  the  way  in 
which  my  Avig  is  to  be  dressed  from  this  day  forward."  * 

Hippolyte  bowed  low,  and  stepped  back  to  give  place  to  the 
valets  who  came  in  with  the  count's  costume.  One  bore  a  rich 
habit  embroidered  with  gold,  and  the  other  a  pair  of  velvet-shorts, 
red  stockings,  and  diamond-buckled  shoes. 

"  A  simpler  habit — Spanish,  without  embroidery,  and  white 
stockings." 

White  stockings!  The  valets  were  astounded  at  such  high 
treason  against  the  court  regulations  of  Vienna.  But  Kaunitz,  with 
a  slight  and  contemptuous  shrug,  ordered  them  a  second  time  to 
bring  him  white  stockings,  and  neverto  presume  to  bring  any  other. 

"  xNow,  go  and  await  me  in  the  pmlerkaniiiier."  f 

The  valets  backed  out  as  if  in  the  presence  of  royalty,  and  the 
eccentric  statesman  was  left  Avitli  his  chief  valet.  The  toilet  was 
completed  in  solemn  silence.  Then,  the  count  walked  to  the  mirror 
to  take  another  look  at  his  adored  person.  He  gave  a  complaisant 
stroke  to  his  rulf  of  richest  Alengon,  smoothed  the  folds  of  his 
habit,  carefully  arranged  the  lace  frills  that  fell  over  his  white 
hands,  and  then  turning  to  his  valet  he  said,  "  Powder-mantle." 

The  valet  unfolded  a  little  package,  and,  with  preter-careful 
hands,  dropped  a  long  white  mantle  over  the  shoulders  of  the  min- 
isterial coxcomb.  Its  light  folds  closed  around  him.  and,  with  an 
Olympian  nod,  he  tiirned  toward  the  door,  while  the  valet  flew  to 
open  it.  As  soon  as  the  count  aj)peared,  the  other  valets,  who,  with 
the  hair-dresser,  stood  on  either  side  of  the  room,  raised  each  one  a 
long  brush  dipped  in  hair-powder,  and  waved  it  to  and  fro.  Clouds 
of  white  dust  tilled  the  room;  while  through  the  mist,  with  grave 
and  delibei-ate  gait,  walked  Kaunitz,  every  now  and  then  halting, 
when  the  brushes  all  stojiped;  then  giving  the  word  of  comma lul, 
they  all  fell  vigorously  to  work  again.  Pour  times  he  went  through 
the  farce,  and  then,  grave  as  a  ghost,  walked  back  to  his  dressing- 
room,  followe"d  by  the  hair-dresser. 

At  the  door,  tlie  chief  valet  carefully  removed  the  powder-man- 
tle, and  for  the  third  time  Kaunitz  turned  to  the  mirror.    Then  he 

*  From  this  time  Kaunitz  wore  his  wip  in  this  pocentric  fashion.    It  was  adopted  by 
the  exquisites  of  Vienna,  and  called  "  the  Kaunitz  peruke." 
t  Literally,  "  powder-room." 


THE  TOILET,  31 

carefully  wiped  the  powder  from  his  eyes,  and,  with  a  smile  of  ex- 
treme satisfaction  he  turned  to  the  hair-dresser. 

"Confess,  Hippolyte,  that  nothing  is  more  beautifying  than 
powder.  See  how  exquisitely  it  lies  on  the  front  ringlets,  and  how 
airily  it  is  distributed  over  the  entire  peruke.  Vraiment,  I  am 
proud  of  my  invention.  " 

Hippolv'te  protested  that  it  was  worthy  of  the  godlike  intellect 
of  his  excellency,  and  was  destined  to  make  an  era  in  the  annals  of 
hair-dressing. 

"The  annals  of  hair-dressing,"'  replied  his  excellency,  '  are  not 
to  be  enriched  with  any  account  of  my  method  of  using  powder. 
If  ever  I  liear  a  word  of  this  discovery  breathed  outside  of  these 
rooms,  I  dismiss  the  whole  pack  of  you.     Do  you  hear?" 

Down  went  the  obsequious  heads,  while  Kaunitz  contimied,  with 
l}is  fine  cambric  handkerchief,  to  remove  the  last  specks  of  powder 
from  his  eyelids.  When  he  had  sufficiently  caressed  and  admired 
himself,  he  went  to  the  door.  It  opened,  and  two  valets,  who  stood 
outside,  presented  him,  one  with  a  jewelled  snuff-box,  the  other 
with  an  embroidered  handkerchief.  A  large  brown  dog,  that  lay 
couchant  in  the  hall,  rose  and  followed  him,  and  the  last  act  of  the 
daily  farce  was  over. 

The  count  passed  into  his  study,  and  going  at  once  to  the  table, 
he  turned  over  the  papers.  "No  message  yet  from  the  empress," 
said  he,  chagrined.  "What  if  Bartenstein's  visit  was  not  a  politic, 
but  a  triumphant  one?    What  a—" 

Here  the  door  opened, and  Baron  Binder  entered.  "Your  excel- 
lency, "  said  he,  smiling,  "  I  have  taken  upon  myself  to  bear  you  a 
message  which  your  servants  declined  to  bring.  It  is  to  announce  a 
visitor.  The  hour  for  reception  has  gone  by,  but  he  was  so  urgent, 
that  I  really  could  not  refuse  his  entreaties  that  you  might  be  told  of 
his  presence.  Pardon  my  officiousness,  but  you"  know  how  soft- 
hearted I  am.     I  never  could  resist  importunity. " 

"  Who  is  your  suppliant  friend  ?" 

"Count  Bartenstein,  my  lord." 

"  Bartenstein  !  Bartenstein  back  already  !"  exclaimed  Kaunitz, 
exultingly.  "And  he  begged— he  begged  for  an  interview,  you 
say  ?" 

"  Begged  !  the  word  is  faint  to  express  his  supplications. " 

"Then  I  am  not  mistaken!"  cried  Kaunitz,  with  aloud,  trium- 
phant voice  ;  "  if  Bartenstein  begs,  it  is  all  over  with  him.  Twice 
in  my  anteroom  in  one  day  !  That  is  equivalent  to  a  message  from 
the  empress. "  And  Kaunitz,  not  caring  to  dissimulate  with  Binder, 
gave  vent  to  his  exceeding  joy. 

"And  you  will  be  magnanimous — you  will  see  him,  will  you 
not?"  asked  Binder,  imploringly. 

"What  for?"  asked  the  heartless  statesman.  "If  he  means  busi- 
ness, the  council-chamber  is  the  place  for  that;  if  he  comes  to  visit 
me — 'I  beg  to  be  excused. '" 

"  But  wlien  I  beg  you,  for  my  sake,  count, "  persisted  the  good- 
natured  baron  ;  "  the  sight  of  fallen  greatness  is  such  a  painful  one  ! 
How  can  any  one  add  to  it  a  feather's  weight  of  anguish?" 

Kaunitz  laid  his  hands  upon  the  broad  shoulders  of  his  friend, 
and  in  his  eye  there  kindled  something  like  a  ray  of  affection. 

"Grown-up  child,  your  heart  is  as  soft  as  if  it  had  never  been 
breathed  upon  by  the  airs  of  this  wicked  world.     Say  no  more  about 


BH  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

Bartenstein,  and  I  will  reward  your  interest  in  his  misfortune  by 
making  you  his  successor.  You  shall  be  state  referendarius  your- 
self. Come  along,  you  chicken-hearted  statesman,  and  let  us  play 
a  game  of  billiards. " 

"  First, "  said  Binder,  sadly,  "  I  must  deliver  my  painful  message 
to  Count  Bartenstein. " 

"  Bah  !  the  page  can  be  sent  to  dismiss  him. " 

"  But  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  keep  the  poor  man  waiting. " 

"Him,  the  poor  man,  say  you?  I  remember  the  day  when  I 
waited  in  his  anteroom,  and  as  I  am  an  honest  man,  I  shall  pay 
him  with  interest,     Come  along,  my  dear  future  state  referendarius. " 


CHAPTER     VIII. 

THK    BED    STOCKINGS. 

At  Kaimitz's  dinner-table  on  that  day  revelry  reigned  trium- 
phant. No  jest  was  too  bold  for  the  lips  of  the  men  ;  and  if  per- 
chance upon  the  cheeks  of  their  beautiful  companions  there  rose 
the  slightest  flush  of  womanly  shame,  the  knights  of  the  revel  shouted 
applause,  and  pealed  forth  their  praises  in  wildest  dithyrambics. 
With  glowing  faces  and  eyes  of  flame  they  ate  their  highly-spiced 
viands,  and  drank  their  fiery  wines,  until  all  restraint  was  flung 
aside,  and  madness  ruled  the  hour. 

The  lovely  Ferlina,  whom  Kaunitz  had  placed  next  to  himself, 
was  beautiful  as  Grecian  Phryne  ;  and  Sacco,  who  was  between  her 
adorers,  Harrach  and  Colloredo,  was  bold  and  bewitching  as  Lais. 

The  odor  of  flowers-^the  sound  of  distant  music,  every  thing  that 
could  intoxicate  the  senses,  was  there.  It  was  one  of  those  orgies 
which  Kaunitz  alone  knew  how  to  devise,  and  into  which  all  the 
lesser  libertines  of  Vienna  longed  to  be  initiated  ;  for  once  admitted 
there,  they  were  graduates  in  the  school  of  vice. 

The  guests  were  excited  beyond  control,  but  not  so  the  host. 
He  who  invoked  the  demon  that  possessed  the  rest,  sat  perfectly 
collected.  With  the  coolness  of  a  helmsman  he  steered  the  flow- 
er-laden bark  of  voluptuousness  toward  the  breakers,  while  he 
befooled  its  passengers  with  visions  of  fatal  beauty. 

The  feast  was  at  an  end,  and  as  Kaunitz  reviewed  the  faces  of 
the  company,  and  saw  that  for  the  day  their  passions  were  weary 
from  indulgence,  he  said  to  himself,  with  diabolical  calmness: 
"  Now  that  they  have  exhausted  every  other  pleasure,  we  will 
sharpen  the  blunted  edge  of  desire  with  gambling!  When  the 
life  of  the  heart  is  burnt  to  ashes,  it  will  still  revive  at  the  chink 
of  gold." 

"To  the  gaming-table,  friends,  to  the  gaming-table!"  cried 
he.  And  the  dull  eyes  grew  bright,  while  the  guests  followed  him 
to  the  green-covered  table,  which  stood  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
dining-room. 

Kaunitz  took  from  a  casket  a  heap  of  gold,  while  La  Ferlina 
gazed  \ipon  it  with  longing  sighs.  Harrach  and  Colloredo  poured 
showers  from  their  ])urses,  and  Sacco  looked  fi"om  one  to  the 
other  with  her  most  inetfable  smiles.  Kaunitz  saw  it  all,  and  as 
he  threw  the  dice  into  the  golden  dice-bo.x,  he  muttered,  "  Miser- 
able worms,  ye  think  yourselves  gods,  and  are  the  slaves  of  a  little 
fiend,  whose  name  is  Gold!" 


THE  RED  STOCKINGS.  33 

As  he  raised  the  dice-box,  the  door  opened,  and  his  first  valet 
appeared  on  the  threshold. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  excellency,  that  I  presume  to  enter  the  room. 
But  there  is  a  messenger  from  the  empress,  and  she  begs  your  ex- 
cellency's immediate  attendance." 

With  an  air  of  consummate  indifference,  Kaunitz  replaced  the 
dice  on  the  table.  "My  carriage,"  was  his  reply  to  the  valet ;  and 
to  his  guests,  with  a  graceful  inclination,  he  said,  "  Do  not  let  this 
interrupt  you.  Count  Harrach  will  be  my  banker.  In  this  casket 
are  ten  thousand  florins — I  go  halves  with  the  charming  Ferlina. " 

Signora  Ferlina  could  not  contain  herself  for  joy,  and  in  the 
exuberance  of  her  gratitude,  she  disturbed  some  of  the  folds  of 
Kaimitz's  lace  ruff.  Kaunitz  was  furious  ;  but,  without  changing 
a  muscle,  he  went  on.  "  Farewell,  my  lords — farewell,  ladies  !  1 
must  away  to  the  post  of  duty. " 

Another  bend  of  the  head,  and  he  disappeared.  The  valets  and 
hair-dresser  were  already  buzzing  around  his  dressing-room  with 
court-dress  and  red  stocking,  but  Kaunitz  waved  them  all  away, 
and  called  Hippolyte  to  arrange  a  curl  of  his  hair  that  was  dis- 
placed. 

The  chief  valet,  who  had  been  petrified  with  astonishment,  now 
came  to  life ;  and  advanced,  holding  in  his  hand  the  rich  court- 
dress. 

"  Pardon,  your  excellency ;  but  my  lord  the  count  is  about  to 
have  an  audience  with  her  imperial  majesty?^' 

"I  am, "  was  the  curt  reply. 

"Then  your  excellency  must  comply  with  the  etiquette  of  the 
empress's  court,  which  requires  the  full  Spanish  dress,  dagger,  and 
red  stockings. " 

"Must?"  said  Kaunitz  contemptuously.  "Fool!  From  this 
day,  no  one  shall  say  to  Count  Kaunitz,  '  Must. '  Bear  that  in  mind. 
Hand  me  my  mviff. " 

"Muff,  my  lord?"  echoed  the  valet. 

"  Yes,  fool,  my  hands  are  cold. " 

The  valet  looked  out  of  the  window,  where  flamed  the  radiance 
of  a  June  sun,  and  with  a  deep  sigh  for  the  waywardness  of  his 
master,  handed  the  muff. 

Kaunitz  thrust  in  his  hands,  and  slowly  left  the  room,  followed 
by  the  dog,  the  valets,  and  the  hair-dresser.  Every  time  his  excel- 
lency went  out,  this  procession  came  as  far  as  the  carriage-door,  to 
see  that  nothing  remained  imperfect  in  his  toilet.  With  the  muff 
held  close  to  his  mouth,  for  fear  a  breath  of  air  should  enter  it, 
Kaunitz  passed  through  the  lofty  corridors  of  his  house  to  his  state- 
carriage.  The  dog  wished  to  get  in,  but  he  waved  her  gently  back, 
saying  : 

"  No,  Phsedra,  not  to-day.     I  dare  not  take  you  there. " 

The  carriage  rolled  off,  and  the  servants  looked  after  in  dumb 
consternation.  At  last  the  first  valet,  with  a  malicious  smile,  said 
to  the  others : 

"  I  stick  to  my  opinion — he  is  crazy.  Who  but  a  madman  would 
hope  to  be  admitted  to  her  imperial  majesty's  presence  without  red 
stockings  and  a  dagger?" 

Hippolyte  shook  his  head.  "No,  no,  he  is  no  madman;  he  is 
only  a  singular  genius,  who  knows  the  world,  and  snaps  his  fingers 
at  it." 


34  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

The  valet  was  not  far  from  right.  The  simple  dress,  white  stock- 
ings, and  the  absence  of  the  dagger,  raised  a  commotion  in  the 
palace. 

The  page  in  the  entrance-hall  was  afraid  to  announce  the  count, 
and  he  rushed  into  the  anteroom  to  consult  the  marshal  of  the  im- 
perial household.  The  latter,  with  his  sweetest  smile,  hastened  to 
meet  the  indignant  count. 

"  Have  the  goodness,  my  lord, "  said  Kavxnitz  imperiously,  "  not 
to  detain  me  any  longer.  The  empress  has  called  me  to  her  pres- 
ence ;  say  that  I  am  here. " 

"But,  count,"  cried  the  horror-stricken  marshal,  "you  cannot 
seriously  mean  to  present  yourself  in  such  a  garb.  Doubtless  you 
have  forgotten,  from  absence  of  mind,  to  array  yourself  as  court 
etiquette  exacts  of  her  majesty's  servants.  If  you  will  do  me  the 
favor  to  accompany  me  to  my  own  apartments,  I  will  with  great 
pleasure  supply  the  red  stockings  and  dagger. " 

Count  Kauuitz  shrugged  his  shoulders  disdainfully.  "Her  maj- 
esty sent  for  vie,  not  for  my  red  stockings ;  therefore,  please  to 
announce  me. " 

The  marshal  retreated,  in  his  surprise,  several  steps.  "Never," 
cried  he  indignantly,  "never  would  I  presume  to  do  so  unheard-of 
a  thing  !  Such  a  transgression  of  her  majesty's  orders  is  inadmis- 
sible." 

"Very  well,"  replied  Kaunitz  coolly,  "I  shall  then  have  the 
pleasure  of  announcing  myself. " 

He  passed  by  the  marshal  and  dismayed  page,  and  was  advanc- 
ing to  the   door  that  led  to  the  imperial  apartments. 

"Hold!  hold!"  groaned  the  marshal,  whose  consternation  was 
now  at  its  height.  "  That  were  too  presuming  !  Since  her  majesty 
has  commanded  your  attendance,  I  will  do  my  duty.  I  leave  it  to 
yourself,  my  lord,  to  excuse  your  own  boldness,  if  you  can  carry  it 
so  far  as  to  attempt  a  justification  of  your  conduct." 

He  bowed,  and  passed  into  the  next  room  ;  then  into  the  cabinet 
of  the  empress,  whence  he  returned  with  word  for  Count  Kaunitz  to 
enter. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

NEW    AUSTRIA. 

The  empress  received  the  count  with  a  most  gracious  smile. 
"  You  are  late, "  she  said,  reaching  out  her  liaud  for  him  to  kiss. 

" I  came  very  near  not  reaching  your  majesty's  presence  at  all, 
for  those  two  wiseacres  in  the  anteroom  refused  me  entrance,  be- 
cause I  had  neither  red  stockings  nor  a  dagger. " 

The  empress  then  perceived  the  omission,  and  she  frowned. 
"Why  did  you  present  yourself  here,  without  them?"  asked  she. 

"Because,  your  majesty,  I  detest  red  stockings  ;  and  I  really  can- 
not see  why  I  sliuuld  be  compelled  to  wear  any  thing  that  is  so 
distasteful  to  me." 

Maria  Theresa  was  so  surprised,  that  she  scarcely  knew  what 
reply  to  make  to  the  argument ;  so  Kaunitz  continued  : 

"  And  as  for  the  dagger,  that  is  no  emblem  of  my  craft.  I  am 
not  a  soldier,  but  a  statesman  ;  my  implement  is  the  crowquill, " 


NEW  AUSTRIA.  35 

"  And  the  tongue, "  replied  the  empress,  "  for  you  certainly  know 
how  to  use  it.  Let  us  dismiss  the  dagger  and  red  stockings,  then, 
and  speak  of  your  pen  and  your  tongue,  for  I  need  them  both.  I 
have  well  weighed  the  matters  under  consideration,  and  have  taken 
counsel  of  Heaven  and  of  my  own  conscience.  I  hope  that  my  de- 
cision will  be  for  the  best. " 

Count  Kaunitz,  courtier  though  he  was,  could  not  repress  a  slight 
shiver,  nor  could  he  master  the  paleness  that  overspread  his  anxious 
face. 

The  empress  went  on  :  "I  have  iiTevocably  decided.  I  abide  by 
what  I  said  in  council.  A  new  day  shall  dawn  upon  Austria — God 
grant  that  it  prove  a  happj"  one  !  Away,  then,  with  the  old  alliance  ! 
we  offer  our  hand  to  Finance,  and  you  shall  conduct  the  negotiations. 
I  appoint  you  lord  high  chancellor  in  the  place  of  Count  Uhlefeld. 
And  you  owe  me  some  thanks,  for  I  assure  you  that,  to  carry  out 
my  opposition  to  my  ministers,  I  have  striven  with  countless  dif- 
ficulties. " 

"I  thank  your  majesty  for  resolving  upon  an  alliance  with 
France, "  said  Kaunitz,  earnestly  ;  "  for  I  do  believe  that  it  will  con- 
duce to  Austria's  welfare." 

"And  do  you  not  thank  me  for  making  you  prime  minister,  or  is 
the  appointment  unwelcome?" 

"  I  shall  be  the  happiest  of  mortals  if  I  can  accept ;  but  that  ques- 
tion is  for  your  majesty  to  decide. " 

The  empress  colored,  and  looked  displeased,  while  Kaunitz, 
"himself  again,"  stood  composed  and  collected  before  her. 

"Ah,"  said  she,  quickly, "you  wish  me  to  beg  you  to  accept  the 
highest  office  in  Austria  !  Do  you  think  it  a  favor  you  do  me  to  be- 
come my  prime  minister,  Kaunitz?" 

"  Your  majesty, "  replied  Kaunitz  in  his  soft,  calm  tones, "  I  think 
not  of  myself,  but  of  Austria  that  I  love,  and  of  you,  my  honored 
empress,  whom  I  would  die  to  serve.  But  I  must  know  whether  it 
will  be  allowed  me  to  serve  my  empress  and  my  fatherland  as  I  can 
and  will  serve  them  both. " 

"What  do  you  mean?    Explain  yourself. " 

"If  I  am  to  labor  in  your  behalf,  my  empress,  I  must  have  free 
hands,  without  colleagues  by  my  side,  to  discuss  my  plans  and  plot 
against  them." 

"Ah!"  said  the  empress,  smiling,  "I  understand.  You  mean 
Bartenstein  and  Counts  Harrach  and  CoUoredo.  True,  they  are 
your  rivals. " 

"Oh,  j'our  majesty,  not  my  rivals,  I  hope. " 

"Well,  then,  your  enemies,  if  you  like  that  better,"  said  the  em- 
press. "I  shall  not  chain  you  together,  then.  I  will  find  other 
places  wherewith  to  compensate  tliem  for  their  past  services,  and 
you  may  find  other  colleagues. " 

"I  desire  no  colleagues,  your  majesty,"  replied  Kaunitz,  "I  wish 
to  be  prime  and  only  minister.  Then  together  we  will  weld  Aus- 
tria's many  dependencies  into  one  great  empire,  and  unite  its  gov- 
ernments under  one  head. " 

"Yours,  count?"  asked  Maria  Theresa,  in  a  slight  tone  of 
irony. 

"Yours,  my  sovereign.  Whatever  you  may  think,  up  to  this 
moment  you  have  not  reigned  supreme  in  Austria.  By  your  side 
l^ave  Bartenstein  and  Uhlefeld  reigned  like  lesser  emperors.     Is  not 


36  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Lombardy  governed  by  its  own  princes,  and  does  not  the  Viceroy  of 
Hungary  make  laws  and  edicts,  which  are  brought  to  you  for  sig- 
nature?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  truly  hemmed  in  on  every  side.  But  I  see  no  remedy 
for  the  evil — I  cannot  govern  everywhere.  Hungary  and  Lombardy 
have  their  owti  constitutions,  and  must  have  their  own  separate 
governments. " 

"So  long  as  that  state  of  things  lasts,  neither  Hungary  nor  Lom- 
bardy will  be  portions  of  the  Austrian  emijire, "  said  Kaunitz. 

"  There  is  no  remedy,  Kaunitz, "  returned  Maria  Theresa  ;  "  I  have 
thought  these  difhculties  over  and  over.  My  arm  is  too  short  to 
reach  to  the  farthest  ends  of  my  realms,  and  I  must  be  content  to 
delegate  some  of  my  power.  One  hand  cannot  navigate  the  ship  of 
state. " 

"  But-  one  head  can  steer  it,  your  majesty,  and  one  head  can 
direct  the  hands  that  work  it. " 

"And  will  the  count  be  one  of  my  hands?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  your  majesty.  But  the  fingers  must  be  subject  to 
this  hand,  and  the  hand  will  then  carry  out,  in  all  security,  the 
plans  of  its  augiist  head,  the  empress. " 

"You  mean  to  say  that  you  wish  to  be  alone  as  my  minister?" 

"If  I  am  truly  to  serve  your  majesty,  it  inust  be  so.  Let  not  the 
sovereignty  of  Austria  be  frittered  away  in  multitudinous  rivu- 
lets ;  gather  it  all  in  one  full,  fertilizing  stream.  One  head  and  one 
hand  over  Austria's  destiny,  and  then  will  she  grow  independent 
and  all-powerful. " 

"But,  man,"  cried  the  emjiress,  "you  cannot  sustain  the  burden 
you  covet !" 

"I  will  have  ample  help,  your  majesty.  I  will  seek  ready  hands 
and  willing  hearts  that  believe  in  me,  and  will  do  my  behests. 
These  must  not  be  my  coadjutors,  but  my  subalterns,  who  think 
through  me,  and  work  for  me.     If  your  majesty  will  grant  me  this 

})rivilege,  then  I  can  serve  Austria.  I  know  that  I  am  asking  for 
ligh  prerogatives  ;  but  for  Austria's  sake,  Maria  Theresa  will  dare 
every  thing  ;  and  together  we  will  accomplish  the  consolidation  of 
her  disjecta  membra  into  one  great  empire.  The  policj^  which  con- 
ducts our  financial  affairs  must  emanate  from  yourself,  and  our 
foreign  policy  must  be  bold  and  frank,  that  friends  and  foes  may 
both  know  what  we  mean.  We  must  coffin  and  bury  old  Austria 
with  the  dead  that  sleep  on  the  battle-grounds  of  lost  Silesia ;  and 
from  her  ashes  we  mvist  build  a  new  empire,  of  which  Hungary  and 
Lombardy  shall  be  integral  parts.  Hand  in  hand  witli  France,  we 
will  be  tlie  lawgivers  of  all  Europe  ;  and  when,  thanks  to  our  thrift 
and  the  rich  tribute  of  our  provinces,  we  pay  our  national  debt, 
tlieii  we  may  laugh  at  English  subsidies  and  Dutch  commerce.  And 
lastly,  we  will  cast  our  eyes  once  more  upon  Silesia,  and  methinks 
if  France  and  Austria  together  should  demand  restitution  of  King 
Fr(>derick,  he  will  scarcely  be  so  rash  as  to  say  nay.  The  ministers 
of  Louis  XV.,  who  wcn'e  adverse  to  our  alliance,  are  about  to  retire, 
and  the  Duke  de  Choiseul,  our  firm  friend  and  the  favorite  of  Mme. 
dc  Pompadour,  will  replace  Richelieu.  Choiseul  seeks  our  friend- 
ship, and  the  day  of  our  triumph  is  dawning.  Svich,  your  majestj'', 
are  my  dreams  for  Austria ;  it  rests  with  you  to  make  them  reali- 
ties !" 

The  empress  had  listened  with  increasing  interest  to  every  word 


NEW   AUSTRIA.  37 

that  Kaunitz  had  spoken.  She  had  risen  from  her  seat,  and  was 
pacing  the  room  in  a  state  of  high  excitement.  As  he  ceased  she 
stopped  in  front  of  him,  and  her  large,  sparkling  orbs  of  blue 
glowed  with  an  expression  of  happiness  and  hope. 

"  I  believe  that  you  are  the  man  for  Austria,"  said  she.  "  I  be- 
lieve that  together  we  can  carry  out  our  plans  and  projects.  God 
grant  that  they  be  righteous  and  just  in  His  sight!  You  have  read 
my  heart,  and  you  know  that  I  can  never  reconcile  myself  to  the 
loss  of  Silesia.  You  know  that  between  me  and  Frederick  no  har- 
mony can  ever  exist;  no  treaty  can  ever  be  signed  to  which  he  is 
a  party.*  I  will  take  the  hand  of  France,  not  so  much  for  love  of 
herself  as  for  her  enmity  to  I'russia.  Will  you  work  with  me  to 
make  war  on  Frederick  if  I  appoint  you  sole  minister,  Kaunitz? 
For  I  tell  you  that  I  burn  to  renew  my  strife  with  the  King  of  Prus- 
sia, and  I  would  rather  give  him  battle  to-day  than  to-morrow."  t 
"I  comprehend  your  majesty's  feelings,  and  fully  share  them. 
As  soon  as  France  and  ourselves  understand  one  another,  we  will 
make  a  league  against  Frederick,  and  may  easily  make  him  sti'ike 
the  first  blow ;  for  even  now  he  is  longing  to  appropriate  another 
Silesia." 

"  And  I  am  longing  to  cross  swords  with  him  for  the  one  he  has 
stolen.  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  going  to  my  fathers  with  a 
diminished  inheritance ;  I  cannot  brook  the  thought  that  my  wo- 
man's hands  have  not  been  strong  enough  to  preserve  my  rights ; 
for  I  feel  that  if  I  have  the  heart  of  a  woman,  I  have  the  head  of  a 
man.  To  see  Austria  great  and  powerful,  to  see  her  men  noble  and 
her  women  virtuous — that  is  my  dx'eam,  my  hope,  my  aim  in  life. 
You  are  the  one  to  perfect  what  I  have  conceived,  Kaunitz ;  will 
you  give  me  your  hand  to  this  great  work  ?" 
"I  will,  your  majesty,  so  help  me  God  !" 

"Will  you  have  Austria's  good  alone  in  view,  in  all  that  you 
counsel  as  ray  minister?" 
"I  will,  so  help  me  God  !" 

"  Will  you  take  counsel  with  me  how  we  may  justly  and  right- 
eously govern  Austria,  without  prejudice,  without  self-love,  without 
thought  of  worldly  fame,  not  from  love  or  fear  of  man,  but  for  the 
sake  of  God  from  whose  hands  we  hold  our  empire  ?" 
"I  will,  so  help  me  God  !" 

"Then,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  after  a  pause,  "you  are  my  sole 
minister,  and  I  empower  you  to  preside  over  the  affairs  of  state,  in 
tlie  manner  you  may  judge  fittest  for  the  welfare  of  the  Austrian 
people. " 

Kaunitz  was  as  self-possessed  a  worldling  as  ever  sought  to  hide 
his  emotions  ;  but  he  could  not  suppress  an  exclamation  of  rapture, 
nor  an  expression  of  triumph,  which  lit  up  his  face  as  nothing  had 
ever  illumined  it  before. 

"Your  majesty,"  said  he,  when  he  found  words,  "I  accept  the 
ti'ust,  and  as  there  is  a  God  above  to  judge  me,  I  will  hold  it  faith- 
fully. My  days  and  nights,  my  youth  and  age,  with  their  thoughts, 
their  will,  their  every  faculty,  shall  be  laid  upon  the  shrine  of 
Austria's  greatness ;  and  if  for  one  moment  I  ever  sacrifice  your 
majesty  to  any  interest  of  mine,  may  I  die  a  death  of  torture  and 
disgrace !" 

*  Maria  Theresa's  own  words. 
t  Maria  Theresas  words.    Coxe. 


406618 


38  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  I  believe  you ;  your  countenance  reflects  your  heart,  and  Al- 
mighty God  has  heard  your  words.  One  thing  remember — that 
Maria  Theresa  suffers  no  minister  to  dictate  to  her.  She  is  the 
reigning  sovereign  of  her  people,  and  will  not  suffer  a  finger  to  be 
laid  upon  her  imperial  righ's.  Were  he  a  thousand  times  prime 
minister,  the  man  that  presumed  too  far  with  me  I  would  hurl  from 
his  eminence  to  the  lowest  depths  of  disgrace.  And  now  that  we 
understand  one  another,  we  will  clasp  hands  like  men,  who  are 
pledged  before  God  to  go  their  duty. " 

She  extended  her  hand  to  Kaunitz,  who  grasped  it  in  his  own, 
"I  swear,"  said  he,  solemnly,  "to  do  my  duty  ;  and  never  can  I  for- 
get this  hour.  I  swear  to  my  sovereign,  Maria  Theresa,  loyalty  unto 
death  ;  and  before  my  empress  I  bow  my  knee,  and  so  do  homage  to 
the  greatest  woman  of  her  age. " 

The  empress  smiled,  while  Kaunitz  knelt  and  kissed  her  fair, 
jewelled  hand.  "May  God  grant  that  you  speak  truth,  Kaunitz, 
and  may  my  posterity  not  have  to  blush  for  me  !  'Every  thing  for 
Austria, '  shall  be  your  motto  and  mine  ;  and  this  flaming  device 
shall  light  us  on  oiu-  way  through  life.  Now  go,  lord  high  chancel- 
lor, and  see  that  the  world  finds  a  phoenix  in  the  ashes  of  the  old 
regime  which  to-day  we  have  consigned  to  the  dust !"  * 

*  From  tliis  time,  Kaunitz  was  the  sole  minister  of  the  empress ;  and  he  kept  his 
promise  to  Binder,  who  became  state  referendarius,  in  the  place  of  the  once-power- 
ful Bartenstein. 


ISABELLA. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE     YOUNG      SOLDIER. 

Kaunitz's  prophecy  had  been  fulfilled.  No  sooner  was  it  known 
that  Austria  and  France  were  allies,  than  Frederick  of  Prussia,  with 
all  haste,  made  ti'eaties  with  England.  These  opposite  alliances 
were  the  signal  for  war.  For  seven  years  this  war  held  its  blood- 
stained lash  over  Austria,  and  every  nation  in  Europe  suffered  more 
or  less  from  its  effects.  Maria  Theresa  began  it  with  sharp  words, 
to  which  Frederick  had  responded  with  his  sharper  sword. 

The  king,  through  his  ambassador,  asked  the  meaning  of  her  ex- 
tensive military  preparations  throughout  Austria,  to  which  the 
empress,  nettled  by  the  arrogance  of  the  demand,  had  replied  that 
she  believed  she  had  a  right  to  mass  troops  for  the  protection  of  her- 
self and  her  allies,  without  rendering  account  of  her  acts  to  foreign 
kings.  Upon  the  receipt  of  this  reply,  Frederick  marched  his  troops 
into  Saxony,  and  so  began  the  "Seven  Years'  War,"  a  war  that  was 
prosecuted  on  both  sides  with  bitter  vindictiveness. 

Throughout  Austria  the  wildest  enthusiasm  prevailed.  Rich 
and  poor,  young  and  old,  all  rushed  to  the  fight.  The  warlike  sx)irit 
that  pervaded  her  people  made  its  way  to  the  heart  of  the  empress's 
eldest  son.  The  Archduke  Joseph  had  for  some  time  been  entreat- 
ing his  mother  to  allow  him  to  join  the  army  ;  and,  at  last,  though 
much  against  her  will,  she  had  yielded  to  his  urgent  desire.  The 
day  on  which  news  of  a  victory,  near  Kunnersdorf,  over  Frederick, 
reached  the  palace,  the  empress  had  given  her  consent,  and  her  son 
was  to  be  allowed  to  go  in  search  of  laurel-wreaths  wherewith  to 
deck  his  imperial  brow. 

This  permission  to  enter  the  army  ^vas  the  first  great  joy  of 
Joseph's  life.  His  heart,  at  last  freed  from  its  weight  of  conven- 
tional duties,  and  forced  submission  to  the  requirements  of  court 
etiquette,  soared  high  into  regions  of  exultant  happiness.  His 
countenance,  once  so  cold  and  impassible,  was  now  full  of  joyous 
changes;  his  eyes,  once  so  dull  and  weary,  glowed  with  the  fire  of 
awakened  enthusiasm,  and  they  looked  so  brilliant  a  blue,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  some  little  raj  from  heaven  had  found  its  way  into 
their  clear,  bright  depths.  The  poor  boy  was  an  altered  creature. 
He  was  frolicsome  with  his  friends  ;  and  as  for  those  whom  he  con- 
sidered his  enemies,  he  cared  nothing  for  their  likes  or  dislikes. 
He  had  nothing  to  lose  or  gain  from  them  ;  he  was  to  leave  the 
court,  leave  Vienna,  leave  every  troublesome  remembrance  behind, 
and  go.  far  from  all  tormentors,  to  the  army. 

The  preparations  were  at  an  end  ;  the  archduke  had  taken  formal 
leave  of  his  mother's  court ;  this  evening  he  was  to  spend  in  the  im- 
4 


40  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

perial  family  circle  ;  and  early  on  tlie  next  morning  bis  journey 
would  begin.  He  had  just  Avritten  a  last  note  of  farewell  to  a 
friend.  Alone  in  his  room,  he  stood  before  a  mirror,  contemplat- 
ing with  a  smile  his  own  image.  He  was  not  looking  at  his  hand- 
some face,  thougli  happiness  was  lending  it  exqviisite  beauty  ;  the 
object  of  his  rapturous  admiration  was  the  white  uniform,  which, 
for  the  first  time,  he  wore  in  place  of  his  court- dress.  He  was  no 
longer  the  descendant  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  no  longer  the  son  of  the 
empress,  he  was  a  soldier — a  free,  self-sustaining  man,  whose  des- 
tiny lay  in  his  own  hands,  and  Avhose  future  deeds  would  prove  him 
worthy  to  be  the  son  of  his  great  ancestor. 

As,  almost  intoxicated  with  excess  of  joy,  he  stood  before  the 
glass,  the  door  opened  gently,  and  a  youth  of  about  bis  own  age 
entered  the  room. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  highness, "  said  the  youth,  bowing,  "  if  I  enter 
without  permission.  Doubtless  your  highness  did  not  hear  me 
knock,  and  I  found  no  one  in  your  anteroom  to  announce  me." 

The  prince  turned  around,  and  reached  out  his  hand,  saying, 
with  a  laugh  :  "  No,  no,  you  found  nobody.  I  have  discharged  old 
Dame  Etiquette  from  my  service,  and  you  see  before  you  not  his  im- 
perial highness,  the  Archduke  Joseph,  crown  prince  of  Austria,  but 
a  young  soldier,  brimful  of  liappiness,  master  of  nothing  but  his 
own  sword,  with  which  he  means  to  carve  out  his  fortunes  on  the 
battle-field.  Oh,  Domiuick !  I  have  dropped  the  rosary,  and  taken 
up  the  sabre  ;  and  I  mean  to  twist  such  a  forest  of  laurels  about  my 
head,  that  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  ever  to  wear  a  niglit-cap 
again,  were  it  even  sent  me  as  a  present  from  the  jiope  himself." 

"  Do  not  talk  so  loud,  you^'  highness ;  you  will  frighten  tlie  pro- 
prieties out  of  their  wits." 

Joseph  laughed.  "Dominick  Kauuitz, "  said  lie,  "you  are  the 
son  of  your  respected  father,  no  dovibt  of  it ;  for  j-ou  behave  prettily 
before  the  bare  walls  themselves.  But  fear  not,  son  of  the  mighty 
minister,  my  walls  are  dumb,  and  nobody  is  near  to  tell  tales.  We 
are  alone,  for  I  have  dismissed  all  my  attendants ;  and  hei'e  I  may 
give  loud  vent  to  my  liallelujahs,  which  I  now  proceed  to  do  by 
singing  you  a  song  which  I  learned  not  long  ago  from  an  invalid 
soldier  in  the  street. " 

And  the  prince  began,  in  a  sonorous  bass  voice,  to  sing : 

"  Oh !  the  young  cannon  is  my  bride  1 

Her  oranse-wTeath  i.s  twined  with  bay, 
And  on  the  blood-red  battle-iield 
We'll  celebrate  our  wedding-day. 

Traral  traral 
No  priest  is  there 
To  bless  the  rites. 
No " 

Here  young  Kaimitz,  all  etiquette  despising,  put  liis  hands  be- 
fore the  mouth  of  the  ])rince  ;  and,  while  tlie  latter  strove,  in  spite 
of  him,  to  go  on  witli  liis  song,  he  said,  in  low  but  anxious  tones  : 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  your  higlmess,  listen  to  me.  You  ])lunge 
yourself  wantonly  into  danger.  Do  you  suppose  that  your  powerful 
voice  does  not  resound  through  thi^  corridors  of  the  palace?" 

"Well,  if  it  /.s"  heard,  Dominick,  what  of  itV  I  bid  farewell  to 
my  ciKMuies.  and  this  is  my  '  Hosauna. '  You  ought  to  be  asliamed 
of  yourself  to  stop  me.     IMy  tunnentors,  you  think,  have  heard  the 


THE  YOUNG  SOLDIER.  41 

beginning  of  my  song ;  well,  tlie  devil  take  it,  but  they  shall  have 
the  end !" 

Once  more  the  archduke  began  to  sing ;  but  Dominick  caught 
his  arm.  "Do  you  wish,"  said  he,  "to  have  the  empress  revoke  her 
permission?" 

The  archduke  laughed.  "Why,  Dominick,  you  are  crazed  with 
grief  for  my  loss,  I  do  believe ;  the  empress  revoke  her  imperial 
word,  noiv,  when  all  my  preparations  are  made,  and  I  go  to-morrow  ?" 

"Empresses  do  revoke  their  words,  and  preparations  are  often 
made,  to  be  followed  by — nothing,"  i-eplied  Dominick. 

The  prince  looked  in  consternation  at  his  yovmg  friend.  "Are 
you  in  earnest,  dear  Dominick?"  asked  he.  "Do  you  indeed  tliink 
it  possible  that  I  could  be  hindered  from  going  to  the  armj-,  on  the 
very  eve  of  my  departure  ?" 

"I  do,  3'our  highness." 

The  archduke  grew  pale,  and  in  a  tremulous  voice  said,  "Upon 
what  do  you  found  your  supposition,  my  friend?" 

"Oh,  my  dear  lord,"  replied  Dominick,  "it  is  no  supposition,  I 
fear  it  is  a  fact ;  and  i  fear,  too,  that  it  is  your  own  fault  if  this 
disappointment  awaits  you. " 

"Good  Heaven!"  exclaimed  the  prince,  in  tones  of  anguish, 
"what  can  I  have  done  to  deserve  such  fearful  chastisement?" 

"You  have  displeabcd  the  empress  by  neglect  of  your  religious 
duties.  For  more  than  two  weeks  you  have  not  entered  a  place  of 
worship  ;  and,  yesterday,  wlien  the  Countess  Fuchs  remonstrated  with 
your  higliuess,  you  replied  with  an  unseemly  jest.  You  said, 
'  Dearest  countess,  I  hope  to  prove  to  you  that,  although  I  neglect 
mj^  mass,  I  can  be  pious  on  tlie  battle-field.  Tliere,  on  the  altar  of 
my  country,  I  mean  to  sacrifice  countle*  enemies,  and  that  will  be 
an  offering  quite  as  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God. '  Were  those  not 
your  words,  prince  ?" 

"Yes,  yes,  they  were— but  I  meant  no  impiety.  My  heart  was 
so  full  of  joy  that  it  effervesced  in  wild  words  ;  but  surely  my 
mother  cannot  mean,  for  such  a  harmless  jest,  to  dash  my  every 
hope  to  the  earth  !" 

"Oh,  your  highness,  this  is  only  one  offence  out  of  many  of 
which  you  are  accused.  I  have  no  time  to  repeat  them  now,  for  my 
errand  liere  is  important  and  pressing. " 

"Where  learned  you  all  this?"  asked  the  poor  archduke. 

"  Bend  down  your  ear,  and  I  will  tell  you.  My  father  told  me 
every  word  of  it. " 

"The  lord  high  chancellor?     Impossible  !" 

"Yes,  it  would  seem  impossible  that  he  should  repeat  any  thing, 
and  therefore  you  may"  know  how  seriously  the  matter  affects  your 
highness  when  I  tell  you  that  he  sent  me  to  warn  you." 

A  quick,  lo  d  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  him,  and  before  the 
archduke  could  say  "Come  in,"  the  Emperor  Francis  was  in  the 
room.  His  face  looked  careworn,  and  he  cast  a  glance  of  tender 
compassion  upon  his  son. 

"My  child,"  said  he,  "T  come  to  speak  to  you  in  private,  a  thing 
I  cannot  compass  in  my  own  apartments. " 

Dominick  bowed  to  take  leave,  but  the  emperor  withheld  him. 
"Stay,"  said  he,  "for  you  may  serve  us,  Dominick.  I  know  you  to 
be  Joseph's  best  friend,  and  you  will  not  betray  him.  But  I  have 
no  time  for  words.     Tell  me  quickly,  Joseph,  is  there  any  secret 


42  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

outlet  to  these  apartments?    Do  you  know  of  any  hidden  stairway 
by  whicli  you  could  escape  from  the  palace?" 

"I,  father!  I  have  secret  doors  in  my  apartments?  Is  this 
some  new  device  of  my  enemies  to  injure  me  in  the  eyes  of  the 
empress?" 

"Hush,  hush,  Joseph! — How  like  he  is  in  temperament  to  his 
mother ! — Answer  me  at  once ;  there  is  no  question  of  enemies, 
but  of  yourself. " 

"What  would  you  have  me  do  with  secret  doors  and  stairways?" 
asked  Joseph. 

The  emperor  came  close  to  his  son,  and,  in  low,  cautious  tones, 
whispered,  "I  would  have  you,  this  very  hovir,  leave  the  palace  pri- 
vately, mount  your  horse,  and  speed  away  from  Vienna. " 

"Fly,  my  dear  father?"  cried  Josejih.  "Has  it  come  to  this,  that 
the  son  must  fly  from  the  face  of  his  own  mother?  Am  I  a  criminal, 
who  nuist  not  be  told  of  what  crime  I  am  accused?  No,  your  maj- 
esty ;  if  death,  or  imprisonment  for  life,  were  here  to  threaten  me, 
I  would  not  fly. " 

"  Nor  would  I  counsel  flight,  my  son,  were  you  accused  of  wrong ; 
but  this  is  not  a  question  of  crime,  of  poisoned  beaker,  or  of  castle 
dungeon — it  is  sinqjly  this  :  Do  you  wish  to  join  the  army,  or  are 
you  ready  to  give  up  your  commission  and  stay  at  home?" 

"  Oh,  my  dear  father, "  cried  Joseph,  "  you  well  know  that  I  have 
but  one  desire  on  earth — and  that  is,  to  go. " 

"Then,  hear  me.  It  lias  been  represented  to  the  empress  that 
your  lust  for  war  has  made  you  so  reckless,  so  bloodthirsty,  and  so  im- 
pious, that  camp-life  will  prove  your  ruin.  In  her  excess  of  mater- 
nal love,  she  has  taken  the  alarm,  and  has  resolved  to  shield  you 
from  danger  by  withdrawing  her  consent  to  your  departure." 

The  archduke's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  The  emperor  laid  his  hand 
sympathizingly  upon  liis  shoulder. 

"Do  not  despair,  dear  child,"  said  he,  tenderly;  "perhaps  all  is 
not  lost,  and  I  may  be  able  to  assist  you.  I  can  comprehend  the 
nature  of  your  sorrow,  for  I  have  suffered  the  same  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. If,  instead  of  leading  a  useless  life,  a  mere  appanage  of  the 
empress,  I  had  been  permitted  to  follow  the  dictates  of  my  heart, 
and  command  her  armies,  I  might  have — but  why  speak  of  my 
waning  career?  You  are  young,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  see  j'our 
life  darkened  by  such  early  disappointment.  Therefore,  listen  to 
me.  You  know  nothing  of  the  change  in  your  prospects  ;  you  have, 
as  yet,  received  no  orders  to  remain.  Write  to  your  mother,  that, 
preferring  to  go  without  the  grief  of  taking  leave,  you  have  presumed 
to  start  to-night  without  her  knowledge,  hoping  soon  to  embrace  her 
again,  and  lay  yom-  first-earned  laurels  at  her  feet." 

The  archduke  hastened  to  obey  his  father,  and  sat  down  to  write. 
The  emperor,  meanwhile,  signed  to  young  Kaunitz,  who  had  kejit 
himself  respectfully  aloof. 

"  Have  you  a  courser, "  asked  he,  "  to  sell  to  Joseph,  and  two  good 
servnnts  that  can  accompany  him  until  his  own  attendants  can  be 
sent  after  him?" 

"I  came  hither,  your  majesty,  prepared  to  make  the  same  propo- 
sition, with  the  fleetest  horse  in  my  father's  stables,  and  two  trusty 
servants,  well  mounted,  all  of  wliich  await  his  highness*  at  the 
postern  gate. " 

"  Your  father's  best  horse?    Then  lie  knows  of  this  affair?" 


THE  EMPRESS  AND  HER  SON.  43 

"  It  was  he  who  sent  me  to  the  archduke's  assistance.  He  told 
me,  in  case  of  necessity,  to  propose  flight,  and  to  be  ready  for  it." 

"The  letter  is  ready,"  said  the  archduke,  coming  forward. 

"  I  myself  will  hand  it  to  the  empress, "  said  his  father,  taking 
it,  "  and  I  will  tell  her  that  I  counselled  you  to  go  as  you  did. " 

"But  dear  father,  the  empress  will  be  angry." 

"Well,  my  son,"  said  the  emperor,  with  a  peculiar  smile,  "I 
have  survived  so  many  little  passing  storms,  that  I  shall  doubtless 
survive  this  one.  The  empress  has  the  best  and  noblest  heart  in  the 
world,  and  its  sunshine  is  always  brightest  after  a  storm.  Go,  then, 
my  child,  I  will  answer  for  your  siu  and  mine.  The  empress  has 
said  nothing  to  me  of  her  change  of  purpose  ;  she  looks  upon  it  as  a 
state  affair,  and  with  her  state  affairs  I  am  never  made  acquainted. 
Since  accident  has  betrayed  it  to  me,  I  have  a  right  to  use  my 
knowledge  in  your  behalf,  and  I  undertake  to  appease  your  motlier. 
Here  is  a  purse  with  two  thousand  louis  d'ors ;  it  is  enougli  for  a 
few  days  of  incognito.  Throw  your  military  cloak  about  you,  and 
away !" 

Young  Kaunitz  laid  the  cloak  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  arch- 
duke, whose  eyes  beamed  forth  the  gratitude  that  filled  his  heart. 

"Oh  my  father  and  my  sovereign, "  said  he  in  a  voice  that  trem- 
bled with  emotion,  "  my  whole  life  will  not  be  long  enough  to  thank 
you  for  what  you  are  doing  for  me  in  this  critical  hour.  Till  now 
I  have  loved  you  indeed  as  my  father,  but  lienceforth  I  must  look 
upon  you  as  my  benefactor  also,  as  my  dearest  and  best  friend.  My 
heart  and  my  soul  are  yours,  dear  father  ;  may  I  b(;  worthy  of  your 
love  and  of  the  sacrifice  you  are  making  for  me  to-day  !" 

The  emperor  folded  his  son  to  his  heart,  and  kissed  his  fair  fore- 
head. "  Farewell,  dear  boy, "  whispered  he  ;  "  return  to  me  a  victor 
and  a  hero.  May  you  earn  for  your  father  on  the  battle-field  the 
laurels  which  he  has  seen  in  dreams  !     God  bless  you  !" 

They  then  left  the  room,  Count  Kaunitz  leading  the  way,  to  see 
if  the  passage  was  clear. 

"I  will  go  with  you  as  far  as  the  staircase,"  continued  the  em- 
peror, "  and  then — " 

At  that  moment  Dominick,  who  had  gone  forward  into  the  cor- 
ridor, rushed  back  into  the  room  pale  and  trembling,  "  It  is  too  late  !" 
exclaimed  he  in  a  stifled  voice  ;  "  there  comes  a  messenger  from  the 
empress !" 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE  EMPRESS  AND  HER   SON.  ^ 

The  young  count  was  not  mistaken.  It  was  indeed  a  message 
from  the  empress.  It  was  the  marshal  of  the  household,  followed  by 
four  pages  who  came  to  command  the  presence  of  the  archduke,  to 
whom  her  majesty  wished  to  impart  something  of  importance. 

A  deadly  paleness  overspread  the  face  of  the  young  prince,  and 
his  whole  frame  shivered.  The  emperor  felt  the  shudder,  and  drew 
his  son's  arm  closer  to  his  heart.  "Courage,  my  son,  courage!" 
whispered  he  :  then  turning  toward  the  imperial  embassy,  he  said 
aloud,  "Announce  to  her  majesty  that  I  will  accompany  the  arch- 


44  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS  COURT. 

duke  in  a  few  moments. "  And  as  the  marshal  stood  irresokite  and 
confused,  the  emperor,  smiling,  said:  "Oh,  I  see  that  you  have 
been  ordered  to  accompany  tiie  prince  yourselves.  Come,  then,  my 
son,  we  will  e'en  go  along  with  the  messengers." 

Maria  Theresa  was  pacing  the  Hoor  of  her  apartment  in  great  ex- 
citement. Her  large,  tiashing  eyes  now  and  then  turned  toward  the 
door ;  and  whenever  she  fancied  that  footsteps  approached,  she 
stopped,  and  seemed  almost  to  gasp  with  anxiety. 

Suddenly  she  turned  toward  Father  Porhammer,  who,  with  the 
Countess  Fuchs,  stood  by  the  side  of  the  sofa  fi-om  which  she  had 
risen.  "Father,"  said  she,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "I  cannot  tell  why 
it  is  that,  as  I  await  my  son's  presence  here,  my  heart  is  over- 
whelmed with  anguish.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  about  to  do  him  an  in- 
justice, and  for  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  I  would  not  do  him 
wrong. " 

"  Nay, "  replied  the  father,  "  your  majesty  is  about  to  rescue  that 
beloved  son  from  destruction  ;  but  as  your  majesty  is  a  loving 
motlier,  it  afflicts  you  to  disappoint  your  child.  Still,  our  Lord  has 
commanded  if  the  right  eye  otfend,  to  pluck  it  out ;  and  so  is  it 
your  majesty's  duty  to  pluck  from  your  sou's  heart  the  evil  growing 
thei-e,  even  were  his  heart's  blood  to  follow.  The  wounds  jou  may 
inflict  uiion  your  dear  child,  for  God's  sake,  will  soon  be  healed  by 
His  Almighty  hand. " 

"  He  was  so  happj^  to  become  a  soldier  !"  murmured  the  empress, 
who  had  resumed  her  agitated  walk  ;  "  his  eyes  were  so  bright,  and 
h-is  bearing  was  so  full  of  joy  and  pride  !  My  boy  is  so  handsome, 
so  like  his  dear  father,  that  my  heart  throbs  when  I  see  him,  as  it 
did  in  the  daj's  when  we  were  j'oung  lovers !  A  laurel-wreath 
would  well  become  his  fair  brow,  and  I — how  proudly  I  should 
have  welcomed  my  young  hero  to  my  heart  once  more  !  Dear,  dear 
boy,  nmst  I  then  wake  you  so  rudely  from  your  first  dream  of  am- 
bition?— I  MUST.  Ho  would  come  to  evil  in  the  lawless  life  of  the 
camp  ;  God  forgive  him,  but  he  is  as  mad  for  the  fight  as  Don  John 
of  Austria !  I  should  never  see  him  again  ;  he  would  seek  death 
in  his  first  battle.  Oh,  I  could  not  survive  it;  my  heart  would 
break  if  I  should  have  to  gi\'e  up  my  first-born  !  Four  of  my 
children  lie  iu  the  vaults  of  St.  Stephen's — I  cannot  part  with 
my  Joseph  !  Countess, "  she  said,  turning  suddenly  to  her  lady  of 
honor,  "  is  it  not  true  that  Jose])h  told  you  he  thought  that  the  altar 
of  the  battle-field  and  the  sacrifice  of  his  enemies  was — " 

"His  majesty  the  emperor  and  his  imperial  highness,  the  Arch- 
duke Josepli  !"  said  the  marshal  of  tlie  household  ;  and  the  door  was 
flung  open  for  their  entrance. 

Maria  Theresa  advanced,  and  bowed  slightly  to  the  emperor. 

"Your  majesty's  visit  at  this  unusual  hour  surprises  me,  "said 
*she  with  emphasis. 

"  I  am  aware, "  replied  the  emperor  graciously,  "  that  I  was  not 
expected  ;  but  as  this  is  the  last  day  of  our  son's  residence  vmder  the 
parental  roof,  I  am  sure  that  my  wife  will  see  nothing  strange  in 
my  visit.  I  was  with  the  archduke  when  your  majesty's  message 
readied  him,  and  knowing  tliat  you  coidd  have  no  secrets  with  the 
son  wliich  the  father  might  not  hear,  I  followed  the  impulse  of  my 
affection,  and  cauK?  with  him." 

"And  wliat  signifies  this  singular  and  unseemly  dress  in  which 
my  son  presents  himself  before  his  sovereign?"  asked  Maria  Theresa, 


THE  EMPRESS  AND  HER  SON.  45 

angrily  surveyiug  the  uniform  wliicli,  nevertheless,  she  acknowl- 
edged in  her  heart  was  be3'oud  expression  becoming  to  him. 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  son,  "I  had  tried  on  the 
uniform,  and  if  I  was  to  obey  your  summons  at  once,  there  was  no 
time  for  a  change  in  my  dress. " 

"And,  indeed, "  said  the  emperor,  "I  think  the  dress  becoming. 
Our  boy  will  make  a  tine-looking  soldier. " 

The  empress  being  precisely  of  that  opinion  herself,  was  so  much 
the  more  vexed  at  her  husband  for  giving  it  expression.  She  bit 
her  lip,  and  her  brow  contracted,  as  was  usual  with  her  when  she 
was  growing  angry. 

"You  held  it  then  as  a  fact,  my  son,  that  you  were  a  soldier?" 
said  she,  catching  her  breath  with  anxiety. 

Joseph  raised  his  fine  eyes,  with  an  imploring  expression,  to  the 
face  of  his  mother.  "Your  majesty  had  promised  me  that  I  should 
be  a  soldier, "  replied  he  firmly,  "and  I  have  never  yet  known  my 
mother  to  break  her  imperial  word  to  the  least  of  her  subjects. " 

"Hear  him!"  cried  the  empress,  with  a  laugh  of  derision,  "he 
almost  threatens  me  !  This  young  sir  will  try  to  make  it  a  point  of 
honor  with  me  to  keep  my  word. " 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty, "  replied  Joseph  calmly,  "  I  have 
never  allowed  myself  to  doubt  your  imperial  word  for  one  moment 
of  my  life. " 

"Well,  then,  your  highness  has  my  i?nj3e7'i'oZ  permission  to  doubt 
it  now,"  cried  the  empress,  severely  humiliated  by  the  implied 
rebuke  ;  "  I  allow  you  to  doubt  whether  I  will  ever  hold  promises  that 
have  been  rashly  and  injudiciously  made." 

"Why,  your  majesty,"  cried  the  emperor,  "surely  you  will  not 
retract  your  word  in  the  face  of  the  whole  world,  that  knows  of 
Joseph's  appointment !" 

"What  to  me  is  the  opinion  of  the  world?"  returned  the  haughty 
empress.  "  To  God  and  my  conscience  alone  I  am  responsible  for 
my  acts,  and  to  them  I  will  answer  it  that  I  take  back  my  promise, 
and  declare  that  Joseph  shall  not  go  into  the  army  !" 

Joseph  uttered  a  cry  of  anguish.  "  Mother !  mother  !"  sobbed  the 
unhappy  boy,  "  it  cannot  be  !" 

"Why  can  it  not  be?"  said  the  empress,  haughtily. 

"Because  it  would  be  a  cruel  and  heartless  deed,"  cried  the  arch- 
duke, losing  all  control  over  himself,  "  so  to  make  sport  of  my  holiest 
and  purest  hopes  in  life  ;  and  because  I  never,  never  can  believe  that 
my  own  mother  would  seek  to  break  my  heart. " 

The  empress  was  about  to  return  a  scathing  reply,  when  the  em- 
peror laid  his  gentle  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  the  words  died 
upon  her  lips. 

"I  beseech  of  you,  my  wife,"  said  he,  "to  remember  that  we  are 
not  alone.  Joseph  is  no  child  ;  and  it  ill  becomes  any  but  his  par- 
ents to  witness  his  humiliation.  Have  the  goodness,  then,  to  dis- 
miss your  attendants,  and  let  us  deal  with  our  son  alone." 

"Why  shall  I  dismiss  them?"  cried  the  empress,  "they  are  my 
trusty  confidants  ;  and  they  have  a  right  to  hear  all  that  the  future 
Emperor  of  Austria  presumes  to  say  to  his  mother  !" 

"Pardon  me,"  replied  the  emperor, " I  differ  with  you,  and  desire 
that  they  should  not  hear  our  famih'  discussions.  In  these  things  I 
too  have  my  right ;  and  if  your  majesty  does  not  command  them  to 
leave  the  room,  I  do, " 


46  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Maria  Theresa  looked  at  the  counteuance  of  her  husband,  which 
was  firm  and  resolved  in  its  expression.  In  her  confusion  she  could 
find  no  retort.  The  emperor  waited  awhile,  and  seeing  that  she  did 
not  speak,  he  turned  toward  the  two  followers,  who  stood,  without 
moving,  at  their  posts. 

"  I  request  tlie  Countess  Fuchs  and  Father  Porhammer  to  leave 
the  room,"  said  he,  with  dignity.  "Family  concerns  are  discussed 
in  private. " 

The  pair  did  not  go.  Father  Porhammer  interrogated  the  face  of 
the  empress  ;  and  the  countess,  indignant  that  her  curiosity  was  to 
be  frustrated,  looked  defiant. 

This  bold  disregard  of  her  husband's  command  was  irritating 
to  the  feelings  of  the  empress.  She  thought  that  his  oi'ders  should 
have  outweighed  her  mere  remonstrance,  and  she  now  felt  it  her 
duty  to  signify  as  much. 

"  Countess  Fuchs, "  said  she, "  doubtless  the  emperor  has  not  spoken 
loud  enough  for  you  to  hear  the  command  lie  has  just  given  you. 
You  have  not  understood  his  words,  and  I  will  take  the  trouble  to 
repeat  them.  The  emperor  said,  'I  request  the  Countess  Fuchs  and 
Father  Porhammer  to  leave  the  room.  Our  family  concerns  we  will 
discuss  in  private. '" 

The  lady  of  honor  colored,  and,  with  deep  inclinations,  Father 
Porhammer  and  herself  left  the  room. 

Maria  Theresa  looked  after  them  until  the  door  was  shut,  then 
she  smilingly  reached  her  hand  to  the  emperor,  who  thanked  her 
with  a  pressure  and  a  look  of  deepest  affection.  The  archduke  had 
retired  to  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  perhaps  to  seek  composure, 
perhaps  to  hide  his  tears. 

"Now,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  sternly,  while  her  fiery  eyes  sought 
the  figure  of  her  son,  "now  we  are  alone,  and  Joseph  is  at  liberty  to 
speak.  I  beg  him  to  remember,  that  in  the  person  of  his  mother, 
he  also  sees  his  sovereign,  and  that  the  empress  will  resent  every 
word  of  disloyalty  spoken  to  the  parent.  And  I  hold  it  to  be  highly 
disloyal  for  my  son  to  accuse  me  of  making  sport  of  his  hopes.  I 
have  not  come  to  my  latest  determination  from  cruelty  or  caprice  ; 
I  have  made  it  in  the  strength  of  my  maternal  love  to  shield  my 
child  from  sin,  and  in  the  rectitude  of  my  imperial  responsibility 
to  my  people,  wlio  have  a  riglit  to  claim  from  me  that  I  bestow  upon 
them  a  monarch  wlio  is  wortliy  to  reign  over  Austria.  Therefore, 
my  son,  as  empress  and  mother,  I  say  that  you  shall  remain.  That 
is  now  my  unalterable  will.  If  this  decision  grieves  you,  be  liumble 
and  submissive  ;  and  remember  that  it  is  your  duty,  as  son  and  sub- 
ject, to  obey  without  demurring.  Then  shall  we  be  good  friends, 
and  greet  one  another  heartily,  as  though  you  had  at  this  moment 
returned  from  the  victorious  battle-field.  There  is  my  hand.  Be 
welcome,  my  dear  and  much-beloved  child." 

The  heart  of  the  empress  had  gradually  softened,  and  as  she 
smiled  and  extended  her  liand,  her  beautiful  eyes  were  filled  to 
overflowing  with  tears.  But  Joseph,  deathly  pale,  crossed  his  arms, 
and  returned  her  glances  of  love  with  a  haughty,  defiant  look,  that 
almost  approached  to  dislike. 

"  My  son, "  said  the  emperor,  "  do  you  not  see  your  dear  mother's 
hand  extended  to  meet  yours?" 

"I see  it,  I  see  it,"  cried  Joseph,  passionately,  "but  I  cannot  take 
it — I  cannot  play  my  part  in  this  mockery  of  a  return.     No,  mother, 


THE  EMPRESS  AND  HER  SON.  47 

no,  I  cannot  kiss  the  hand  that  has  so  cruelly  dashed  my  hopes  to 
earth.  And  you  wish  to  carry  your  tyranny  so  far  as  to  exact  that  I 
receive  it  with  a  smile?  Oh,  mother,  my  heart  is  breaking  !  Have 
pity  on  me,  and  take  back  those  cruel  words  ;  let  me  go,  let  me  go. 
Do  not  make  me  a  byword  for  the  world,  that  hereafter  will  refuse 
me  its  respect.  Let  me  go,  if  but  for  a  few  weeks,  and  on  the  day 
that  you  command  my  return,  I  will  come  home.  Oh,  my  heart 
was  too  small  to  hold  the  love  I  bore  you  for  your  consent  to  my 
departure.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  just  begun  to  live  ;  the  world 
was  full  of  beauty,  and  I  forgot  all  the  trials  of  my  childhood.  For 
one  week  I  have  been  young,  dear  mother  ;  hurl  me  not  back  again 
into  that  dark  dungeon  of  solitude  where  so  much  of  my  short  life 
has  been  spent.  Do  not  condemn  me  to  live  as  I  have  hitherto  lived  ; 
give  me  freedom,  give  me  my  manhood's  rights  !" 

"No,  no!  a  thousand  times  no!"  cried  the  exasperated  empress; 
"  I  see  now  that  I  am  right  to  keep  such  an  unfeeling  and  ungrateful 
son  at  home.  He  talks  of  his  sufferings  forsooth !  What  has  he 
ever  suffered  at  my  hands?" 

"What  have  I  suffered?"  exclaimed  Joseph,  whose  teeth  chattered 
as  if  he  were  having  a  chill,  and  who  was  no  longer  in  a  state  to 
suppress  the  terrible  eruption  of  his  heart's  agony.  "What  have  I 
suffered,  ask  you?  I  will  tell  you,  empress-mother,  what  I  have 
suffered  since  first  I  could  love,  or  think,  or  endure.  As  a  child  I 
have  felt  that  my  mother  loved  another  son  more  than  she  loved 
me.  When  my  longing  eyes  sought  hers,  they  were  riveted  upon 
another  face.  When  my  brother  and  I  have  sinned  together,  he  has 
been  forgiven,  when  I  have  been  punished.  Sorrow  and  jealousy 
were  in  my  heart,  and  no  one  cared  enough  for  me  to  ask  why  I 
wept.  I  was  left  to  suffer  without  one  word  of  kindness — and  you 
wondered  that  I  was  tacitvirn,  and  mocked  at  my  slighted  longings 
for  love,  and  called  them  by  hard  names.  And  then  you  pointed  to 
my  caressed  and  indulged  brother,  and  bade  me  be  gay  like  him  !" 

"My  son,  my  son!"  cried  the  emperor,  "control  yourself;  you 
know  not  what  you  say. " 

"  Let  him  go  on,  Francis, "  said  the  pale  mother,  "  it  is  well  that  I 
should  know  his  heart  at  last. " 

"Yes,"  continued  the  maddened  archduke,  "let  me  go  on,  for  in 
my  heart  there  is  nothing  but  misery  and  slighted  affection.  Oh, 
mother,  mother !"  exclaimed  he,  suddenly  changing  from  defiance 
to  the  most  pathetic  entreaty,  "on  my  knees  I  implore  you  to  let  me 
go  ;  have  mercy,  have  mercy  upon  your  wretched  son  !" 

And  the  young  prince,  with  outstretched  hands,  threw  himself 
upon  his  knees  before  his  mother.  The  long-suppressed  tears  gushed 
forth,  and  the  wild  tempest  of  his  ungovernable  fury  was  spent, 
and  now  he  sobbed  as  if  indeed  his  young  heart  was  breaking. 

Th  emperor  could  scarcely  restrain  the  impulse  he  felt  to  weep 
with  his  son  ;  but  he  came  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  poor  boy's 
head,  and  looked  with  passionate  entreaty  at  the  empress. 

"Dear  Theresa,"  said  he,  "be  compassionate  and  forgiving. 
Pardon  him,  beloved,  the  hard  and  unjust  words  which,  in  the 
bitterness  of  a  first  sorrow,  he  has  spoken  to  the  best  of  mothers. 
Raise  him  up  from  the  depths  of  his  despair,  and  grant  the  boon, 
for  which,  I  am  sure,  he  will  love  you  beyond  bounds." 

"  I  wish  that  I  dared  to  grant  it  to  yourself,  Francis, "  replied  the 
empress,  sadly  and  tearfully  ;  "but  you  see  that  he  has  made  it  im- 


48  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

possible.  I  dare  not  do  it.  The  mother  has  no  right  to  plead  with 
tlie  empress  for  her  rebellious  son.  What  he  has  said  I  freely  for- 
give— God  grant  that  I  may  forget  it !  Well  do  1  know  how  stormy 
is  youth,  and  I  remember  that  Joseph  is  my  son.  It  is  the  wild 
Spanish  blood  of  my  ancestry  that  boils  in  his  veins,  and,  therefore, 
I  forgive  him  Avith  all  my  heart.  But  revoke  my  last  sentence — 
that  I  cannot  do.  To  do  so  would  be  to  confirm  him  in  wrong. 
Rise,  my  son  Joseph — I  forgive  all  your  cruel  words ;  but  what  I 
have  said,  I  have  said.     You  remain  at  home. " 

Joseph  rose  slowly  from  his  knees.  The  tears  in  his  eyes  were 
dried ;  his  lips  were  compressed,  and  once  more  he  wore  the  old 
look  of  cold  and  sullen  indifference.  He  made  a  profound  inclina- 
tion before  his  mother.  "I  have  heard  the  empress's  commands, " 
said  he,  in  a  hoarse  and  unnatural  voice;  "it  is  my  duty  to  obey. 
Allow  me  to  go  to  my  prison,  tliat  I  may  doff  this  manly  garb, 
which  is  no  longer  suitable  to  my  blasted  career." 

Without  awaiting  the  answer,  he  turned  away,  and  with  hasty 
strides  left  the  room. 

The  empress  Avatched  him  in  speechless  anxiety.  As  the  door 
closed  upon  him,  her  features  assumed  an  expression  of  tenderness, 
and  she  said:  "Go  i|uickly,  Franz — go  after  him.  Try  to  comfort 
and  sustain  him.     I  do  not  know  why,  but  I  feel  uneasy — " 

At  that  moment  a  cry  was  heard  in  the  anteroom,  and  the  fall  of 
a  heavy  body  to  the  floor. 

"God  help  me — it  is  Joseph  !"  shrieked  the  empress  ;  and,  forget- 
ting all  ceremony,  she  darted  from  the  room,  and  rushed  by  her 
dismayed  attendants  through  the  anteroom,  out  into  the  corridor. 
Stretched  on  the  floor,  insensible  and  lifeless,  lay  her  son. 

Withovit  a  word  the  empress  waved  off  the  crowd  that  was  assem- 
bled around  his  body.  The  might  of  her  love  gave  her  supernatural 
strength,  and  folding  her  arms  around  her  child,  she  covei'ed  his 
pale  face  with  kisses,  and  from  the  very  midst  of  the  frightened 
attendants  she  bore  him  herself  to  her  room,  where  she  laid  him 
softly  upon  her  own  bed. 

No  one  except  the  emperor  had  ventured  to  follow.  He  stood 
near,  and  reached  the  salts,  to  which  the  empress  had  silently 
pointed.  She  rubbed  her  son's  temples,  held  the  salts  to  his  nostrils, 
and  at  last,  when  he  gave  signs  of  life,  she  turned  to  the  emperor 
and  burst  into  tears. 

"Oh,  Franz,"  said  she,  "I  almost  Avish  that  he  were  sick,  that 
day  and  nif;ht  I  might  Avatch  by  his  bedside,  and  his  poor  heart 
miglit  feel  the  full  extent  of  a  mother's  love  for  her  first-born  child. " 

Perhajjs  (Jod  granted  her  prayer,  that  these  tAvo  noble  hearts 
might  no  longer  be  estranged,  but  that  each  might  at  last  meet  the 
other  in  the  fullest  confidence  of  mutual  love. 

A  A'iolent  attack  of  feA-er  followed  the  SAvoon  of  the  archduke. 
The  empress  never  left  his  side.  He  slept  in  her  own  room,  and  she 
A\'atch(>d  over  liim  AAnth  gentlest  and  most  affectionate  care. 

WheneA'er  Joseph  awaked  from  his  fever- dreams  and  unclosed 
his  eyes,  there,  close  to  his  bedside,  he  saAV  the  empress,  who  greeted 
him  Avith  loving  Avords  and  softest  caresses.  WhencA-er,  in  his 
fever-thirst,  he  called  for  drink,  her  hnnd  held  the  cup  to  his  parched 
lips  ;  and  wlienever  tliat  soft,  cool  hand  was  laid  u])on  his  hot  broAV, 
he  felt  as  if  its  touch  chased  away  all  pain  and  soothed  all  sorroAv. 

When  he  recovered  enough  to  sit  up,  still  his  mother  would  not 


THE  EMPRESS  AND  HER  SON.  49 

consent  for  him  to  leave  hei-  room  for  his  own.  As  long  as  he  was 
an  invalid,  he  should  be  hers  alone.  In  her  room,  and  through  her 
loving  care,  should  he  find  returning  health.  His  sisters  and  brothers 
assembled  there  to  cheer  him  with  tlieir  childish  mirth,  and  his 
young-  friend,  Dominick  Kaunitz,  came  daily  to  entertain  him  with 
his  lively  gossip.  Altogetlier,  the  archduke  was  happy.  If  he  had 
lost  fame,  he  had  found  love. 

One  day,  when,  cushioned  in  his  great  soft  arm-chair,  he  was 
chatting  with  his  favorite  tutor,  Count  Bathiany,  the  empress 
entered  the  room,  her  face  lit  up  with  a  happy  smile,  while  in  her 
hands  she  held  an  etui  of  red  morocco. 

"What  think  you  I  liave  in  this  etui,  dear?"  she  said,  coming 
forward,  and  bending  over  her  son  to  bestow  a  kiss. 

"  I  do  not  know  ;  but  I  guess  it  is  some  new  gift  of  love  from  my 
mother's  dear  hand." 

"Yes — rightly  guessed.  It  is  a  genuine  gift  of  love,  and,  with 
God's  grace,  it  may  prove  the  brightest  gift  in  your  future  crown. 
Since  I  would  not  let  you  leave  my  house,  my  sou,  I  feel  it  my  duty, 
at  least,  to  do  my  best  to  make  your  home  a  happy  one.  I  also  wish 
to  show  you  that,  in  my  sight,  you  are  no  longer  a  boy,  but  a  man 
worthy  to  govern  your  own  household.  Look  at  the  picture  in  this 
case,  and  if  it  pleases  you,  my  darling  son,  I  give  you,  not  only  the 
portrait,  but  the  original  also. " 

She  lianded  him  the  case,  in  which  lay  the  miniature  of  a  young 
girl  of  surpassing  beauty,  whose  large,  dark  eyes  seemed  to  gaze 
upon  liiin  with  a  look  of  melancholy  entreaty. 

Tlie  archduke  contemplated  the  picture  for  some  time,  and  grad- 
ually over  his  pale  face  there  stole  a  flush  of  vague  delight. 
"Well !"  asked  the  empress,  "does  the  maiden  please  you?" 
"Please  me!"  echoed  the  archduke,    without  withdrawing  his 
eyes  from  the  picture.     "  'Tis  the  image  of  an  angel  1     There    is 
sometliing  in  her  look  so  beseeching,  something  in  her  smile  so  sad, 
that  I  feel  as  if  I  would  fall  at  her  feet  and  weep  ;  aud  yet,  mother — " 
"  Hear  him,  Franz, "  cried  Maria  Tlieresa  to  the  emperor,  who, 
unobserved    by   his  son,   had  entered  the  i-oom.     "Hear  our  own 
child  !  love  in  his  heart  will  be  a  sentiment  as  holy,  as  faithful,  and 
as  profound  as  it  has  been  with  us  for  many  happy  years  !     Will  you 
have  the  angel  for  your  wife,  Joseph?" 

The  archduke  raised  his  expressive  eyes  to  the  face  of  his  mother. 
"If  I  will  have  her!"  murmured  he,  sadly.  "Dear  mother,  would 
she  deign  to  look  upon  me?  Will  she  not  rather  turn  away  from 
him  to  whom  the  whole  world  is  indifferent?" 

"My  precious  child,  she  will  love  and  honor  you,  as  the  world 
will  do,  when  it  comes  to  know  your  noble  heart. "  And  once  more 
the  empress  bent  over  her  son  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  his  pale 
brow.  "It  is  settled  then,  my  son,  that  you  shall  offer  your  hand  to 
this  beautiful  girl.  In  one  week  you  will  have  attained  your  nine- 
teenth birthday,  and  you  shall  give  a  good  example  to  your  sisters. 
Do  you  like  the  prospect?" 

"  Yes,  dear  mother,  I  am  perfectly  satisfied. " 
"  And  you  do  not  ask  her  name  or  rank  ?" 

"  You  have  chosen  her  for  me ;  and  I  take  her  from  your  hand 
without  name  or  rank. " 

"Well,"  cried  the  delighted  empress,  "Count  Bathiany,  you  have 
ever  been  the  favorite  preceptor  of  the  archduke.     Upon  you,  then, 


50  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT.  ' 

shall  this  honorable  mission  devolve.  To-morrow,  as  ambassador 
extraordinary  from  our  court,  you  shall  go  in  state  to  ask  of  Don 
Philip  of  Parma  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Isabella  for  his  imj)erial 
highness,  the  crown  prince  of  Austria. " 


CHAPTER    XII. 

AN  ITALIAN^  NIGHT. 

The  moon  is  up,  but  she  is  hidden  behind  heavy  masses  of  clouds 
— welcome  clouds  that  shelter  lovers'  secrets.  The  fountains,  whose 
silvery  showers  keep  such  sweet  time  to  the  murmurings  of  love, 
plash  gently  on,  hushing  the  sound  of  lovers'  voices  ;  on  the  bosom 
of  yonder  marble -cinctured  lake,  two  snow-white  swans  are  floating 
silently  ;  and,  far  amid  groves  of  myrtle  and  olive,  the  nightingale 
warbles  her  notes  of  love.  Not  a  step  echoes  through  the  long 
avenues  of  the  ducal  park,  not  a  light  glimmers  from  the  windows  of 
the  ducal  palace.  'Tis  the  hour  of  midnight,  and  gentle  sleep  hath 
come  to  all. 

To  all,  save  two.  Stay  yet  awhile  behind  the  cloud,  O  tell-tale 
moon  !  for  there — there  are  the  lovers.  See  where  fair  Juliet  leans 
from  the  marble  balcony  ;  while  Romeo,  below,  whispers  of  plighted 
vows  that  naught  shall  cancel  save — death  ! 

"To-morrow,  beloved,  to-morrow,  thou  wilt  be  mine  forever?" 

"I  will  be  thine  in  the  face  of  the  whole  world." 

"And  wilt  thou  never  repent?  Hast  thou  strength  to  brave  the 
world's  scorn  for  my  sake?" 

"  Do  I  need  strength  to  stretch  forth  my  hand  for  that  which  is 
dearer  to  me  than  all  the  world  beside?  Oh,  there  is  selfishness  in 
my  love,  Riccardo,  for  it  loses  sight  of  the  dangers  that  will  threaten 
thee  on  the  day  when  thou  callest  me  wife  !" 

"  Tliere  is  but  one  danger,  dearest — that  of  losing  thee  !  I  know 
no  other." 

"Still,  be  cautious,  for  my  sake.  Remember,  we  live  on  Spanish 
soil,  though  Italy's  skies  are  overhead;  and  Spanish  vengeance  is 
sharp  and  swift.  Betray  not  thy  hopes  by  smile  or  glance — in  a  few 
days  we  will  be  far  away  in  the  paradise  where  our  happiness  shall 
be  hidden  from  all  eyes,  save  those  of  angels.  Be  guarded,  there- 
fore, <li>ar  one — for  see  !  Even  now  the  moon  is  forth  again  in  all 
her  splendor  ;  and  were  my  father's  sjjies  to  track  thee ! — Gracious 
Heaven,  go !  Think  of  Spanish  daggers,  and  let  us  part  for  a  few 
short  hours. " 

"  Well,  I  will  go,  strengthened  to  turn  my  eyes  from  thy  beauty, 
by  thoughts  of  to-morrow's  bliss  !     In  the  chapel  I  await  thee." 

"I  will  be  there.     The  priest  will  not  betray  us?" 

"He  was  the  friend  of  my  childhood — we  may  trust  him, 
Isabella. " 

"Then,  Heaven  bless  thee!  good-night.  Hark  I — did  I  not  heai 
something  rustle  in  the  tliicket?" 

"The  wind  sighing  through  the  pine-trees,  love." 

"Then,  adieu,  till  morning." 

"Adieu,  sweet  one !" 

Tlie  moon  burst  forth  in  fidl  radiance,  and  revealed  the  manly 


AN  ITALIAN  NIGHT.  51 

form  that  hurried  through  the  avenue ;  while  clear  as  in  noonday 
could  be  seen  the  slender  white  figure  that  watched  his  retreating 
steps. 

He  is  hidden  now,  but  she  still  lingers,  listening  enraptured  to 
the  fountain's  murmur  and  the  nightingale's  song  ;  looking  upward 
at  the  moon  as  she  wandered  through  heaven's  pathless  way,  and 
thinking  that  never  had  earth  or  sky  seemed  so  lovely  before — 

But  hark  !  What  sounds  are  those  ?  A  cry,  a  fearful  cry  rends 
the  air  ;  and  it  comes  from  the  thicket  where,  a  moment  before,  he 
disappeared  from  her  sight. 

She  started — then,  breathless  as  a  statue,  she  listened  in  deadly 
suspense.  Again  that  cry,  that  dreadful  cry,  pierces  through  the 
stillness  of  the  night,  freezing  her  young  heart  with  horror  ! 

"  His  death-wail !"  cried  the  wretched  girl ;  and  careless  of  dan- 
ger, scarce  knowing  what  she  did,  heeding  nothing  but  the  sound 
of  her  lover's  voice,  she  sprang  from  the  balcony,  and  as  though 
moonbeams  had  drawn  her  thither,  she  swung  herself  to  the  ground. 
For  one  monient  her  slight  form  wavered,  then  she  darted  forward 
and  flew  through  the  avenue  to  the  thicket.  Away  she  sped,  though 
the  moon  shone  so  bright  that  she  could  be  distinctly  seen,  her  own 
shadow  following  like  a  dusky  phantom  behind. 

Be  friendly,  now,  fair  moon,  and  light  her  to  her  lover,  that  she 
may  look  into  his  eyes  once  more  before  they  close  forever ! 

She  has  reached  the  spot,  and,  with  a  low  cry,  she  throws  herself 
by  the  side  of  the  tall  figure  that  lies  stretched  at  its  length  upon  the 
green  sward. 

Yes,  it  is  he  ;  he  whom  she  loves  ;  the  soul  of  her  soul,  the  life  of 
her  life  !  And  he  lies  cold  and  motionless,  his  eyes  staring  blindly 
upon  the  heavens,  his  purple  lips  unclosing  to  exhale  his  last  sighs, 
while  from  two  hideous  wovmds  in  his  side  the  blood  streams  over 
the  Avhite  dress  of  his  betrothed.  But  he  is  not  dead  ;  his  blood  is 
still  warm. 

She  bends  over  and  kisses  his  cold  lips  ;  she  tears  her  lace  mantle 
from  lier  slioulders,  aud,  pressing  it  to  his  wounds,  tries  to  stanch 
the  life-blood  welling  from  his  side.  The  mantle  grows  scarlet  with 
his  gore,  but  the  lips  are  whiter  and  colder  with  each  kiss.  She 
knows,  alas  !  that  there  is  one  nearer  to  him  now^  than  she — Azrael 
is  between  her  and  her  lover.  He  grows  colder,  stiffer ;  and — O 
God  ! — the  death  -  rattle  ! 

"  Take  me  with  thee  ;  take  me,  take  me !"  screamed  the  despair- 
ing girl ;  and  her  arms  clasped  frantically  around  the  body,  until 
they  seemed  as  if  they  were  indeed  stiffening  into  one  eternal 
embrace. 

"  Have  pity,  Riccardo !  My  life,  my  soul,  leave  me  not  here 
without  thee  !     One  word — one  look,  beloved  !" 

She  stared  at  him  in  wild  despair,  and  seeing  that  he  made  no 
sign  of  response  to  her  passionate  appeal,  she  raised  her  hands  to 
heaven,  and  kneeling  by  his  side,  she  prayed. 

"O  God,  merciful  God,  take  not  his  fleeting  life  until  he  has 
given  me  one  last  word — until  he  has  told  me  how  long  we  shall  be 
parted  !" 

Her  arms  sank  heavily  down,  and  she  sought  the  face  of  the 
dying  man,  whispering — oh,  how  tenderly! — "Hear  me,  my  own; 
tell  me  when  I  .shall  follow  thee  to  heaven  !" 

She  ceased,  for  suddenly  she  felt  him  tremble ;  his  eyes  moved 


52  ■  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

until  they  met  hers,  and  once  more  a  smile  flitted  across  those 
blanched  lips.  He  raised  his  head,  and  slowly  his  body  moved, 
until,  supported  in  Jier  arms,  he  sat  erect.  Enraptured,  he  laid  her 
cheek  to  his,  and  waited  ;  for  love  had  called  him  back  to  life,  and 
he  would  speak. 

"  We  shall  meet  again  in  three — " 

He  fell  back,  and  with  a  last  cry  expired.  Love  had  struggled 
hard  with  death  ;  but  death  had  won  the  victory. 

•  Isabel  shed  no  tears.  She  closed  her  lover's  ej'es  ;  gave  him  one 
long,  last  kiss ;  and,  as  she  bent  over  him,  her  hair  was  soaked  in 
his  blood.  She  took  the  mantle,  wet  with  gore,  and  pressed  it  to 
her  heart.  "Precious  mantle,"  said  she,  ''we  need  not  part;  in 
three  days — or.  perchance  he  said  three  hours — we  shall  lie  together 
in  the  coffin  !     Until  then,  Riccardo,  farewell !" 

Slowly  she  turned  and  left  the  horrible  place.  Wthout  faltering, 
she  came  up  the  long  moonlit  avenue,  her  head  thrown  back,  and 
her  large,  lustrous  eyes  fixed  upon  heaven,  as  though  slie  sought  to 
find  her  lover's  soul  somewhere  among  the  floating  clouds. 

The  moon  flung  its  radiance  around  her  path  ;  and  ever,  as  she 
walked,  it  grew  brighter,  until  the  poor,  stricken  child  of  earth 
looked  like  a  glori fled  saint.  "God  grant  that  it  be  three  hours !" 
murmured  she  ;  "three  days  were  an  eternity  !" 

She  reached  the  palace,  without  having  thought  that  there  was 
no  door  open  by  which  she  could  enter,  when  suddenly  a  form 
emerged  from  the  shadowed  wall,  and  a  woman's  voice  whispered  : 

"Quick,  for  Heaven's  sake  !  the  side-door  is  open,  and  all  in  the 
palace  sleep !" 

"I,  too,  in  three  hours  shall  sleej)  !"  cried  Isabella,  triumphantly, 
and  with  these  words  she  fell  to  the  ground  in  a  swoon.  * 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

ISABELLA  OF  PARMA. 

The  Princess  Isabella  slept  unusuallj^  late  the  next  morning. 
Her  little  bell,  that  summoned  the  ladies  of  lionor,  had  not  yet  rung, 
and  the  day  was  far  advanced.  The  first  cameiHera  seemed  troubled, 
and  whispered  her  apprehensions  that  the  princess  was  sick  ;  for  she 
had  observed,  for  some  days,  she  said,  that  her  highness  had  looked 
pale. 

"  But  we  must  go  into  her  room,  ladies, "  added  she  ;  "  for  it  is 
almost  time  for  her  highness  to  visit  the  duke,  and  he  never  for- 
gives an  omission  of  ceremonial.  Follow  me,  then  ;  /will  under- 
take to  awaken  the  princess. " 

She  opened  the  door  softly,  and  entered  the  sleeping-room  of  the 
princess,  followed  by  the  other  maids  of  lionor. 

"She  sleeps  yet,  "said  the  cameriera;  "but  I  7)iust  waken  her," 
murmured  she  to  herself,  "  it  is  my  duty." 

She  advanced,  and  drew  aside  the  heavy  folds  of  the  pink- silk 
curtains  that  hung  around  the  bed. 

"Pardon  me,  your  liighness,  "  slio  wliispered  ;  "but — " 

She  stojjped  ;  for,  to  lier  great  surjjrise,  tlie  princess  was  awake. 
She  lay  in  her  long  white  niglit-dress,  with  her  hands  crossed  over  her 
*  Caroline  Pichler,  "Memoirs  of  My  Life. "     Part  I.  page  139. 


ISABELLA  OF  PARMA.  53 

breast,  and  her  head  cushioned  on  the  rose-colored  pillow  that  con- 
trasted painfully  with  the  pallor  of  her  marble-white  face.  Her 
large  eyes  were  distended,  and  fixed  upon  a  picture  of  the  blessed 
Virgin  that  hung  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Slowly  her  looks  turned 
upon  her  attendants,  who,  breatliless  and  frightened,  gazed  upon 
the  rosy  pillow,  and  the  pallid  face  that  lay  in  its  midst,  dazzling 
their  eyes  with  its  whiteness. 

"  Pardon  me, "  again  whispered  the  eameriera,  "  it  is  almost 
noonday. " 

"  What  hour?"  murmured  the  princess. 

"It  is  ten  o'clock,  your  highness." 

Tlie  princess  sliivered,  and  exclaimed,  "For  three  daj-s,  then!" 
And  turning  away,  she  began  to  pray  in  a  low  voice,  and  none  but 
God  knew  the  meaning  of  that  whispered  prayer. 

Her  prayer  over,  she  passed  lier  little  wliite  hand  over  the  dark 
locks  that  fell  around  her  face  and  made  an  effort  to  rise. 

Her  maids  of  honor  saw  that  she  was  ill,  and  hastened  to  assist 
her.  The  hour  of  the  princess's  toilet  was  to  her  attendants  the 
most  delightful  hour  of  the  day.  From  her  bedchamber  all  cere- 
monial was  banislied ;  and  there,  with  her  young  companions, 
Isabella  was  accustomed  to  laugh,  jest,  sing,  and  be  as  merry  and  as 
free  from  care  as  the  least  of  her  father's  subjects. 

Pliilip  of  Parma  was  by  birtli  a  Spaniard,  one  of  the  sons  of 
Philip  the  Fifth.  After  the  vicissitudes  of  war  which  wrested 
Naples  and  Parma  from  the  hands  of  Austria,  Don  Carlos  of  Spain 
became  king  of  Naples,  and  Don  Philip,  duke  of  Parma.  Isabella, 
then  a  child  of  seven  years,  had  been  allowed  the  privilege  of  taking 
with  her  to  Italy  her  young  playmates,  who,  for  form's  sake,  as  she 
grew  older,  became  her  maids  of  honor.  But  they  were  her  dear 
and  chosen  friends,  and  with  them  she  was  accustomed  to  speak  the 
Spanish  language  onlJ^ 

Her  mother,  daughter  of  Louis  XV. ,  had  introduced  French  cus- 
toms into  the  court  of  Parma,  and  during  her  life  the  gayety  and 
grace  of  French  manners  had  rendered  that  court  one  of  the  most 
attractive  in  Europe.  But  the  lovely  Duchess  of  Parma  died,  and 
with  her  died  all  that  made  court  life  endurable.  The  French  lan- 
guage was  forbidden,  and  French  customs  were  banished.  Some 
said  that  the  duke  had  loved  his  wife  so  deeply,  that  in  liis  grief  he 
had  excluded  from  his  court  every  thing  suggestive  of  his  past  hap- 
piness. Others  contended  that  he  had  made  her  life  so  wretched  by 
his  jealous  and  tyrannical  conduct,  that  remorse  had  driven  him  to  . 
banish,  if  possible,  every  reminder  of  the  woman  whom  he  had 
almost  murdered. 

In  the  hearts  of  her  children  the  mother's  memory  was  en- 
shrined ;  and  the  brother  and  sister  were  accustomed  for  her  sake, 
in  their  private  intercoiu'se,  to  speak  ]ter  language  altogether. 

At  court  they  spoke  the  language  of  the  country  ;  and  Isabella — 
who  with  her  friends  sang boZeros  and  danced  the  cachuca  ;  with  her 
brother,  read  Racine  and  Corneille — was  equally  happy  while  she 
hung  enraptured  upon  the  strains  of  Pergolese's  music,  or  gazed 
entranced  upon  the  jiictures  of  Correggio  and  the  Veronese.  The 
princess  herself  was  both  a  painter  and  musician,  and  no  one,  more 
than  she,  loved  Italy  and  Italian  art. 

Such,  until  this  wretched  morning,  had  been  the  life  of  young 
Isabella.      What  was  she  nowV    A  cold,    white    image,   in  whose 


54  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

staring  eyes  the  light  was  quenched — from  whose  blanched  lips  the 
smile  had  fled  forever  ! 

Her  grieved  attendants  could  scarcely  suppress  their  tears,  as 
sadly  and  silently  they  arrayed  her  in  her  rich  robes  ;  while  she,  not 
seeming  to  know  where  she  was,  gazed  at  her  own  reflected  image, 
with  a  look  of  stupid  horror.  They  dressed  her  beautiful  hair,  and 
bound  it  up  in  massy  braids.  They  smoothed  it  over  her  death-cold 
forehead,  and  shuddered  to  see  how  like  a  corpse  she  looked.  At 
last  the  task  was  at  an  end,  and  the  cameriera  coming  toward  her, 
offered  the  cup  of  chocolate  which  she  was  accustomed  to  drink  at 
that  hour.  Tenderly  she  besought  the  unhappy  giri  to  partake  of  it, 
but  Isabella  waved  away  tlie  cup,  saying  : 

"  Dear  friend,  offer  me  no  earthly  food.  I  pine  for  the  banquet 
of  angels.  Let  the  chaplain  be  called  to  bring  the  viaticum.  I 
wish  to  receive  the  last  sacraments  of  the  dying. " 

A  cry  of  horror  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  maids  of  honor. 

"  The  chaplain !  The  last  sacraments !  For  you,  my  beloved 
child?"  asked  the  sobbing  eamcWera. 

"  For  me, "  replied  Isabella. 

"Heavenly  Father!"  exclaimed  the  aja.  "Have  you  then  pre- 
sumed to  anticipate  the  will  of  God,  and  to  go  before  His  presence, 
uncalled?" 

"  No,  no,  death  will  come  to  me,  I  will  not  seek  it.  I  will  endure 
life  as  long  as  God  wills,  but,  in  three  days,  I  shall  be  called  hence. " 

The  young  girls  crowded  around  her,  weeping,  and  imploring 
her  not  to  leave  them. 

Isabella's  white  lips  parted  with  a  strange  smile.  "You  tell  me 
not  to  die,  dear  friends;  do  you  not  see  that  I  am  already  dead? 
My  heart  is  bleeding. " 

The  hand  of  the  cameriera  was  laid  upon  her  arm,  and  she  whis- 
pered :  "My  child,  be  silent ;  you  know  not  what  you  say." 

Isabella  bowed  her  head,  and  then  looking  tenderly  around  at 
her  kneeling  companions,  she  said  :  "Rise  and  sit  by  me,  my  dear 
girls,  and  listen  to  what  I  am  about  to  say,  for  we  speak  together 
for  the  last  time  on  earth. " 

The  maidens  arose,  and  obeyed,  while  Isabella  leaned  her  head 
for  a  few  moments  upon  the  bosom  of  her  mother's  friend,  the  came- 
1'iera.  There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the  poor  girl  seemed  to  have 
received  some  comfort  in  those  friendly  arms  ;  for  she  finally  sighed, 
and,  raising  her  head  again,  she  spoke  solemnly,  but  not  unnaturally. 

"I  had  last  night  a  singular  vision,"  she  said.  "The  spirit  of 
my  motlier  ajipoared  to  me,  and  said  that  in  three  days  I  was  to  die. 
I  believe  in  this  vision.  Do  not  weep,  dear  sisters  ;  I  go  to  eternal 
rest.  Life  is  bitter,  deatli  is  sweet.  Pray  for  me,  that  my  mother's 
pr()])heticwor(lsl)everilie(l  ;  and  you,  beloved  friend  of  thatmother," 
added  she,  kissing  i\\o  canieriera' s  cheek,  "you  who  know  the  depths 
of  my  heart,  and  its  secret,  silent  agony,  pray  for  your  child,  and 
praying,  ask  of  hc»r  heavenly  Father — death." 

The  (tja  made  no  re])ly,  she  was  wee))ing  with  the  others. 

Isabella  contemplated  the  grou])  for  a  moment,  while  a  ray  of 
life  lit  \\\^  her  eyes,  showing  that,  ev(>n  now,  it  was  sad  to  part  from 
her  friends  forever.  But  tlie  expression  was  momentary.  Her  face 
returned  to  its  deadly  paleness,  as  gasping  for  breath,  she  stammered  : 
"  Now — now— for— my  father  !  Estrella,  go  to  the  apartments  of  the 
duke,  and  say  that  I  desire  an  interview  with  his  royal  highness." 


ISABELLA  OF  PARMA.  55 

The  young  girl  returned  in  a  few  moments  with  an  answer.  His 
royal  highness  had  that  morning  gone  some  distance  in  the  country 
on  a  hunting  excursion,  and  would  be  absent  for  several  days. 

Isabella  looked  at  the  cameriera,  who  still  stood  beside  her,  and 
her  pale  lijis  quivered.  "Did  I  not  know  it?"  whispered  she;  "1 
told  you  truly,  HE  did  it !  God  forgive  him,  I  cannot. — And  now," 
continued  she,  aloud,  "  now  to  my  last  earthly  affairs. " 

So  saying,  she  called  for  her  caskets  of  jewels  and  divided  them 
between  the  young  maids  of  honor  ;  and  cutting  from  her  liair  one 
rich,  massy  lock,  she  placed  it  in  Estrella's  hand,  saying,  "Share 
it  among  you  all. " 

To  the  cameriera  she  gave  a  sealed  packet,  and  then  bade  them 
leave  her  to  herself ;  for  the  ringing  of  the  chapel  bell  announced 
the  departure  of  the  priest  thence,  with  the  blessed  sacrament. 

The  sacred  rites  were  ended.  On  her  knees  the  Princess  Isabella 
had  made  her  confession,  and  had  revealed  to  the  shuddering  priest 
the  horrible  secrets  of  the  preceding  night.  She  had  received  abso- 
lution, and  had  partaken  of  the  holy  communion. 

"Now,  my  child,"  said  the  priest,  in  a  voice  ti-emulous  with 
sympathy,  "you  have  received  the  blessing  of  God,  and  you  are 
prepared  for  His  coming.  May  He  be  merciful  to  you,  and  grant 
your  prayer  for  release  from  this  earth  !  I,  too,  will  pray  that  your 
martyrdom  be  short. " 

"Amen  !"  softly  murmured  Isabella. 

"  But  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  inscrutable,  and  it  may  be  that 
He  wills  it  otherwise.  If,  in  His  incomprehensible  wisdom.  He 
should  declare  that  your  days  shall  be  long  on  this  earth,  promise 
me  to  endure  your  lot  with  resignation,  nor  seek  to  hasten  what  He 
has  deemed  it  best  to  delay  ?" 

"I  promise,  holy  father. " 

"Make  a  vow,  then,  to  the  Lord,  that  by  the  memory  of  your 
mother  you  will  fulfd  every  duty  tliat  {)resents  itself  to  you  in  life, 
until  God  has  spoken  tlie  word  that  will  csall  you  to  Himself. " 

"  I  swear,  by  the  memory  of  my  mother,  that  I  will  live  a  life  of 
resignation  and  of  usefulness  until  God  in  His  mercy,  shall  free  me 
from  my  prison. " 

"Right,  dear  unhappy  child,"  said  the  father,  smoothing,  with 
his  trembling  hands,  the  soft  hair  that  lay  on  either  side  of  her  fore- 
head. "May  God  reward  thee,  and  in  His  infinite  mercy  shorten 
thy  sufferings  !" 

He  stooped,  and  kissing  her  pale  brow,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross 
above  her  kneeling  figure.  Then,  witli  eyes  blinded  by  tears,  he 
slowly  retreated  to  liis  own  room,  where  he  threw  himself  upon  his 
knees  and  prayed  that  God  would  give  strength  to  them  both  to  bear 
the  cross  of  that  dreadful  secret. 

Isabella,  too,  remained  alone.  In  feverish  longing  for  death, 
she  sat,  neither  hearing  the  voices  of  her  friends  who  begged  for 
admission,  nor  the  pleadings  of  her  brother,  who  besought  her  to 
see  him  and  give  him  one  last  embrace.  Through  the  long  night 
that  followed,  still  kneeling,  she  prayed.  When  the  sun  rose,  she 
murmured,  "To-morrow  !"  and  through  the  day  her  fancy  wandered 
to  the  verge  of  madness.  Sometimes  visions  of  beckoning  angels 
swarmed  around  her  ;  then  they  fled,  and  in  their  places  stood  a 
hideous  skeleton,  that,  with  ghastly  smile,  held  out  his  fleshless 
hand,  and  strove  to  clasp  hers. 

5 


66  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Again  the  night  set  in,  and  the  next  morning  at  break  of  day, 
Isabella  rose  from  her  knees,  and,  hailing  the  rising  sun,  cried  ex- 
ultingly,  "To-day  I" 

Exhausted  from  fasting  and  such  long  vigils,  her  head  reeled,  and 
she  staggered  to  her  couch.  A  cold  shudder  crept  over  her  limbs  ; 
all  was  dark  as  niglit  about  her ;  she  tried  to  clasp  her  hands  in 
prayer  and  could  not,  for  they  were  numb  and  powerless.  "This  is 
welcome  death  !"  thought  she,  and  her  lips  parted  with  a  happy 
smile.     Her  head  fell  backward  on  the  pillow,  and  her  senses  fled. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE  AMBASSADOR  EXTRAORDINARY. 

The  Princess  Isabella  opened  her  eyes,  and  in  their  dark  and 
lustrous  depths  shone  returning  reason  ;  they  glared  no  more  with 
fever-madness,  but  were  sadder  and  sweeter  tlian  ever. 

She  gazed  at  the  forms  that  surrounded  her  bedside  ;  at  the 
priest,  who,  with  folded  hands,  was  praying  at  her  head ;  at  the 
cameriera,  who  knelt  beside  him  ;  at  the  young  girls,  who,  gathered 
in  a  lovel)'  group  at  her  feet,  smiled  and  wept  by  turns  as  she  looked 
upon  them  ;  and  lastly,  she  felt  a  kiss  upon  her  hand,  and,  looking 
there,  she  beheld  her  l)rother,  who  wept  with  joy. 

"Where  am  I?"  asked  she,  feebly. 

"You  are  with  those  who  love  you  best,  darling,"  said  Fernando, 
joyfully.  "With  us,  who  have  prayed  so  long,  that  the  good  God 
has  heard  and  restored  you  to  life. " 

"I  still  live,  then,"  said  she,  sadly.  "And  how  long  have  I  lain 
here,  friends?" 

The  priest  advanced,  and  blessing  her,  took  her  by  the  hand. 
"For  four  weeks,  daughter,  you  have  been  unconscious  of  every 
thing  that  passed  around  you.  You  see,  therefore,  that  your  heav- 
enly Father  bids  you  live. " 

"Four  weeks?"  whispered  the  poor  girl.  "Then,  in  three  months 
we  shall  meet  again. " 

She  closed  her  eyes,  and  lay  silent  for  a  while.  At  length,  the 
priest,  bending  close  to  lier  ear,  whispered,  "Think,  daughter,  of 
the  vows,  which,  by  the  memory  of  your  mother,  you  have  made  to 
God !" 

"I  will  remember  them,"  murmiu-ed  she,  sadly. 

And  from  this  day  she  mended,  mitil  life  and  strength  were  re- 
stored to  her  even  as  before.  Slie  thought  of  her  vow,  ajul  made  no 
resistance  to  the  will  of  Heaven ;  but  she  hoped  for  death,  and 
awaited  her  three  months. 

Sustained  by  tlH\se  hopes,  she  recovered.  But  her  heart  was 
wounded  ])ast  all  ciu'e ;  gone  M'ere  lier  smiles  and  her  songs. 
Quietly,  sadly,  and  solemnly  glided  away  the  new  life  to  which  she 
had  been  born  through  death. 

Tlie  first  day  on  whicOi  slie  ffilt  able  to  leave  her  room,  she  sent 
to  crave  an  audience  of  her  father.  She  liad  been  tol<l  that,  during 
her  delirium,  he  had  often  visitcnl  her  cliainbcr  ;  but,  since  her  con- 
valescence, he  had  not  sent  so  much  as  an  iu(|uiry  after  her  health. 


THE  AMBASSADOR  EXTRAORDINARY.  67 

He  did  not,  however,  deny  t!:e  interview  she  sought.  He  awaited 
his  daughter,  said  tlie  messenger,  in  his  own  apartments. 

The  princess  shuddered,  and  a  deadly  faintness  came  over  her. 

"My  God  !  my  God  !  will  I  ever  be  able  to  go  through  this  bitter 
hour?     Must  I,  indeed,  look  upon  him  who — " 

She  closed  her  eyes  to  shut  out  the  frightful  remembrance. 
Then,  gathering  all  her  strength  for  the  trial,  she  rose  to  seek  her 
father,  and  make  one  last  reqviest  of  him. 

With  her  head  thrown  i^roudly  back,  and  her  dark  eyes  flashing 
with  resolve,  she  entered  his  cabinet. 

The  duke  was  entirely  alone.  He  had  dismissed  his  attendants, 
and  now  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  awaiting  his  daughter  in 
gloomy  silence.  His  cold,  stern  features  had  grown  more  repulsive 
than  eVer  to  the  unhappy  girl ;  his  jiiercing  eyes  more  revengeful ; 
his  thin,  pale  lips  more  cruel.  He  seemed  to  her  a  pitiless  stranger, 
and  she  could  not  advance  to  meet  him.  Powerless  and  faint,  she 
stood  at  the  door  ;  all  her  strength  gone. 

A  few  moments  of  anguish  went  by,  and  then  the  duke,  extend- 
ing his  hand,  said,  in  a  tone  of  command,  "Come  hither,  Isabella." 

She  stepped  forward,  and  almost  touclied  his  hand,  when,  shud- 
dering, her  arm  dropped  heavily  down,  and,  forgetting  all  caution, 
she  murmured,  in  tones  of  deepest  agony,  "I  cannot !  I  cannot !" 

The  duke's  eyes  shot  fire,  as  he,  too,  dropped  his  extended  hand, 
and  deep,  angry  folds  wrinkled  liis  foreliead. 

"Why  have  you  desired  this  interview?"  asked  he. 

"  I  have  a  request  to  prefer,  my  father, "  replied  Isabella. 

He  bent  his  head.     "  Speak, "  said  he. 

"I  come  to  entreat  of  my  father  the  permission  to  take  the  veil." 

"And  wherefore,  I  should  like  to  know?"  said  the  duke,  care- 
lessly. 

"That  I  may  dedicate  my  few  remaining  days  to  the  service  of 
the  Lord." 

"Girlish  folly!"  said  he,  with  a  contemptuous  laugh,  while  he 
pace<l  u])  and  down  the  room. 

Isabella  made  no  reply,  but  stood  awaiting  a  more  direct  answer 
to  her  petition.     Suddenl}',  he  came  up  to  her,  and  spoke  : 

"  I  cannot  grant  your  request, "  said  he.  "  I  have  other  plans  for 
you.  The  grandchild  of  the  King  of  Spain  cannot  be  permitted  to 
die  a  penitent  in  a  cloister  ;  if  she  has  atonement  to  make  for  crime, 
let  her  make  it,  not  under  the  serge  of  the  nun,  but  under  the  purple 
of  the  emjjress. " 

"I  have  no  ambition,"  said  Isabella,  trembling.  "Allow  me,  I 
entreat  you,  to  enter  a  convent. " 

"I  repeat  that  I  have  other  plans  for  you.  I,  too,  have  no  ambi- 
tion for  you  J  said  the  father,  coldly,  "but  I  am  ambitious  for  my 
\iouse,  and  tlirough  you  I  sliall  attain  my  end.  One  of  the  greatest 
monarchs  of  Europe  has  sought  your  hand  for  the  heir  of  Iier  throne, 
and  I  have  resolved  that  you  shall  become  his  wife. " 

"Fate  will  refuse  it  toliim — Fate,  more  merciful  than  my  father. 
I  have  but  a  few  weeks  to  live — before  a  month  has  elapsed,  I  shall 
be  in  my  grave. " 

"Go "there,  if  it  pleases  you,"  cried  the  duke,  "but  die  with  royal 
robes  about  you.     You  shall  not  die  a  nun. " 

"No  one  on  earth,  my  father,  has  a  right  to  detain  me.  If  your 
highness  refuse  your  consent.  T  will  flj^  to  a  convent  without  your 


58  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

permission.  And  princely  though  you  be,  you  shall  not  drag  from 
the  altar  the  bride  of  the  Lord." 

"Ah,  you  rebel  against  my  authority!"  cried  the  duke,  with  a 
look  that  sent  a  deadly  pang  to  the  heart  of  his  daughter.  "  Know, 
that  I  have  power  to  judge  you  for  such  ti'eason,  and  lay  your  de- 
fiant head  upon  the  block  !" 

"  I  do  not  fear  death, "  replied  Isabella ;  "  I  await  it  with  impa- 
tience. " 

"Ah  !  you  are  possessed  with  a  lovesick  desire  to  die  !  But  hear 
what  I  have  to  say,  and  mark  it  well.  I  will  relate  to  you  an  atfair 
that  took  place — whilst  you  were  ill.  The  ouh'  son  of  one  of  the 
noljlest  familie.s  in  Parma,  the  pride  of  his  race,  and  the  idol  of  his 
parents,  conceived  a  plot  against  my  house,  whose  treason  was  equal 
to  parricide.  I  learned  his  designs  ;  and  with  my  own  eyes  and  my 
own  ears,  I  verified  his  guilt.  He  was  an  archtraitor ;  he  had  de- 
served to  die  on  the  scaffold.  But  I  had  pity  on  his  family,  and 
spared  them  the  disgrace  of  a  public  execution.  I  took  his  life 
secretly,  and  his  parents  are  spared  the  sliame  of  k^iowing  how  he 
died.     Shall  I  tell  you  the  name  of  this  dead  traitor?" 

Isabella  raised  her  hand,  and  iiarting  her  blauclied  lips,  she  said 
hoarsely,  "  No  no  !  in  mercy,  no!" 

"Very  well,  then  I  pi-oceed.  This  traitor,  whom  I  judged,  and 
to  whom  I  dealt  his  death-stab,  liad  an  accomi)lice.     Do  you  listen?" 

Like  a  broken  lily,  Isabella's  head  sank  down  upon  lier  breast. 

"Ah  !  you  listen.  The  accomplice  is  placed  in  a  position  which 
makes  it  inexjiedient  for  me  to  punish  her  in  her  own  person.  But 
should  she  thwart  me,  shovild  she  not  fully  and  (cheerfully  comply 
witli  my  demands  upon  lier  loyalty,  I  will  see  that  she  sulfcn's  more 
than  death  in  the  family  of  her  accomplice.  I  shall  piiblish  the 
guilt  of  the  dead  criminal  to  the  whole  world  ;  I  will  disgrace  and 
dishonor  his  whole  race,  and  his  young  sister,  with  her  parents, 
shall  be  driven  penniless  from  my  realms,  to  beg  or  starve  in  a 
stranger  land. " 

"Fatlier  !"  cried  the  wretched  girl,  while  her  every  limb  (piivered 
with  the  torture  he  inflicted,  "I  am  ready  to  do  your  will.  I  will 
marry  whom  you  choose,  and  so  long  as  God  condemns  me  to  earth, 
I  will  obey  you  in  all  things.  But  you  sliall  promise  me  on  your 
princely  honor  to  shield  from  all  shame  or  harm  the  family  of — of — 
the  deceased  ;  to  befriend  his  sister,  and  if  she  should  ever  wish  to 
marry,  to  honor  and  favor  her  choice.  Promise  me  this,  and  as 
long  as  I  live  I  submit  to  your  will." 

"I  promise,  on  my  honor,  to  do  all  this,  and  to  forget  for  their 
sakes  tlie  crime  of  tlieir  sou." 

"I  promise  also,  on  my  sacred  honor,  to  acc<»pt  the  husband  you 
liave  chosen  for  me.  But  I  will  not  suffer  long,  for  my  life  is  almost 
spent." 

The  duke  slu'ugged  his  slioulders. 

"Your  liighness,"  continued  his  daughter,  "will  iiii'orm  iiir  on 
what  day  T  am  ti)  be  atlianccd.  I  await  your  commands,  and  beg 
your  highness's  permission  to  withdraw  to  my  apartments.'" 

"Have  you  nothing  more  to  say  to  your  father,  Isabella?"  asked 
he  in  a  faltering  voice. 

"Nothing  more  to  say  to  your  royal  highness."  She  courtesied 
deeply,  and,  witliout  a  glance  at  lier  father,  left  tlu>  room. 

The  duke  looked  after  her  svilh  an  e.\pi-ession  of  sorrow.      "I  have 


THE  AMBASSADOR  EXTRAORDINARY.  59 

lost  her  forever  !"  said  he.  "  When  I  sti'uck  him,  I  pierced  her  heart 
also.  Well,  so  let  it  be !  Better  a  dead  child  than  a  dishonored 
house !" 

He  then  rang  a  little  golden  bell,  and  ordered  preparations  to 
be  made  for  another  grand  hunt  on  the  morrow. 

Isabella  accepted  her  destiny  nobly.  She  resolved  to  fulfil  her 
promises  strictly :  but  she  hoped  that  God  would  be  satisfied  with 
the  sacrifice,  and  release  her  before  the  day  of  her  nuptials. 

Finally  came  the  day  on  which,  for  the  third  time,  she  had  hoped 
to  die.  She  felt  a  solemn  joy  steal  over  her  heart,  and  she  desired 
her  maids  of  honor  to  deck  her  in  bridal  white.  Her  dark  hair  was 
wreathed  with  orange-blossoms,  and  in  her  bosom  she  wore  ar* 
orange-bud.  She  was  lovely  beyond  expi'ession,  and  her  attendants 
whispered  among  themselves,  though  Isabella  neither  saw  nor  heard 
them.  She  who  awaited  death  took  no  heed  of  what  was  going  on 
around  her  in  the  palace. 

And  yet  her  stake  in  that  palace  was  great.  On  the  day  before 
the  embassy  had  arrived,  which  was  to  change  her  fate,  and  open 
to  her  a  new  life  at  the  court  of  the  Austrian  empress. 

The  duke  had  received  his  guests  with  royal  courtesy.  But  he 
had  besought  the  count  to  postiwne  his  interview  with  the  princess 
until  the  morrow  ;  for  with  cruel  mockery  of  his  child's  sorrow, 
Philip  of  Parma  had  contrived  that  the  day  on  which  she  had  hoped 
to  meet  her  dead  lover,  should  be  the  day  of  lier  betrothal  to  the 
Ai'chduke  of  Austria. 

Isabella  was  the  only  person  in  the  palace  who  had  not  heard  of 
the  arrival.  She  had  withdrawn  into  her  private  cabinet,  and  there 
she  counted  every  pulsation  of  her  heart.  She  dared  not  liope  to  die 
a  natural  death  ;  she  was  looking  forward  to  some  accident  that  was 
to  release  her  from  life  ;  something  direct  from  the  hand  of  God  slie 
thought  would,  on  that  daj',  make  good  the  prophecy  of  her  lover. 

Slie  hoped,  watched,  prayed.  She  was  startled  from  her  solitude 
by  a  knocking  at  the  door,  and  her  father's  voice  called  for  admis- 
sion. 

Tlie  princes,  obedient  to  her  promise,  rose  and  opened  the  door. 
Her  father  surveyed  her  with  a  smile  of  derision.  "  Yoii  have  done 
well,"  said  he,  "to  deck  yourself  as  a  bride;  not  as  the  bride  of 
Death,  but  as  the  afiianced  wife  of  the  living  lover  who  will  one  day 
make  you  empress  of  Austria.  His  amba.ssador  awaits  us  now  in 
the  great  hall  of  state.  Follow  me  into  the  next  room,  where  your 
maids  of  honor  are  assembled  to  attend  you.  Mark  me,  Isabella  ! 
When  we  arrive  in  the  hall,  the  ambassador  will  advance,  and  in 
terms  befitting  the  honor  conferred,  he  will  request  your  acceptance 
of  the  archduke's  hand.  I  leave  it  to  your  tact  and  discretion  to 
answer  him  as  becomes  theprincess  of  a  great  and  royal  house." 

"And  will  your  highness  perform  your  promise  to  me  9^''  asked 
Isabella  calmly.  "Shall  his  parents  live  secure  in  possession  ot 
their  noble  name  and  estates  ;  and  shall  his  sister  be  the  special  ob- 
ject of  your  highness 's  protection  and  favor?" 

"I  will  do  all  this,  provided  you  give  me  satisfaction  as  relates 
to  your  marriage. " 

Isabella  bowed.  "Then  I  am  ready  to  accompany  your  royal 
highness  to  the  hall  of  state,  and  to  accept  with  courtesy  the  ofter  of 
the  Austrian  ambassador." 

Forth  went  the  beautiful  martj'r  and  her  train  through  the  goi  • 


CO  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

geous  apartments  of  the  palace,  until  they  reached  the  hall  of  the 
throne. 

In  the  centre  of  the  hall  the  duke  left  his  daughter  and  her 
attendants,  while  he  mounted  the  throne  and  took  his  seat  upon  the 
ducal  chair. 

And  now  advanced  Count  Bathiany.  With  all  the  fervor  which 
her  matchless  beauty  inspired,  he  begged  of  the  princess  her  fair 
hand  for  his  future  sovereign  the  Archduke  of  Austria.  As  tlie 
count  ceased,  every  eye  turned  toward  the  infanta.  She  had  listened 
with  calm  dignity  to  the  words  of  the  ambassador,  and  her  large, 
melancholy  eyes  had  been  riveted  upon  his  face  while  he  delivered 
his  errand.  Tliere  was  a  pause — a  few  moments  were  needed  by 
that  broken  heart  to  hush  its  moanings,  and  bare  itself  for  the  sac- 
rifice. The  brow  of  the  duke  darkened,  and  he  was  about  to  inter- 
pose, when  lie  saw  his  daughter  bow  her  head.  Then  she  spoke,  and 
every  one  bent  forward  to  listen  to  the  silvery  tones  of  her  voice. 

"  I  feel  deeply  honored, "  said  she,  "  by  the  preference  of  her  im- 
perial majesty  of  Austria  ;  an  alliance  v.-ith  her  eldest  son  is  above 
my  deserts  ;  but  since  it  is  their  desire,  I  accept  the  great  honor 
conferred  upon  me.  I  regret,  however,  that  their  majesties  should 
have  directed  their  choice  toward  me ;  for  I  am  convinced  that  I 
shall  not  live  long  enough  to  fulfil  the  destiny  to  which  this  marriage 
calls  me."* 

When  at  last  the  ceremonies  of  this  day  of  agony  were  ended ; 
when  the  infanta,  liad  dismissed  lier  ladies  of  honor,  and  was  once 
more  alone — alone  with  God  and  with  tlie  past,  she  threw  herself 
upon  her  couch,  and,  with  her  hands  meekly  folded  across  her  breast, 
she  lay,  looking  up,  far  beyond  the  palace  dome  to  heaven. 

There  she  prayed  until  midniglit,  and  when  the  clock  had  told 
the  hour,  she  arose  to  the  new  life  that  awaited  her,  witli  its  new 
promises,  new  expectations,  new  ties — but  no  new  hopes. 

"Heavenly  Father,"  exclaimed  she,  "it  has  begun,  and  I  will 
bear  it  to  the  bitter  end  !  I  am  now  the  betrothed,  and  soon  will 
be  the  wife  of  another.  If  I  have  sinned  in  my  consent  to  marry 
one  whom  I  can  never  love,  pardon  me,  O  Lord  !  and  hear  me  vow 
tliat  1  will  faithfully  fulfil  my  duty  toward  him.  I  am  the  affianced 
of  another !  Farewell,  my  beloved,  farewell,  for  three  long 
YEARS  !" 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE     DREAM     OF     LOVE. 

The  wedding-festival  was  over,  and  Vienna  was  resting  from  the 

fatigue  of  tlie  brilliant  entertainments  by  which  the  marriage  of  the 

archdvike  had  been  followed,  both  in  court  and  city.     And  indeed 

the  rejoicings  had  been  conducted  with  imperial  magnificence.     For 

eight  days,  tbe  ]X'<)[)le  of  Vienna,  without  respect  of  rank,  had  been 

admitted  to  the  palace,  to  Avitness  the  court  festivities;  while  in  the 

city  and  at  Schonbrunn,  nightly  balls  were  given  at  the  expense  of 

the  empress,  where  the  happy  Viennese  danced  and  feasted  to  their 

hearts'  content. 

*  Tlie  infanta's  own  words ;  a.s  veritably  historical  as  is  this  'whole  relation  of  her 
death-propliecy  aiul  its  unhappy  fulfilment.  See  WraxaU,  "Memoirs of  the  Courts," 
etc..  aud  CaroUue Pichler. 


THE  DREAM  OF  LOVE.  61 

They  had  returned  the  bounty  of  their  sovereign  by  erecting 
triumphal  arches,  strewing  the  ground  with  flowers,  and  rending 
the  air  with  shouts,  whenever  tlie  young  archduchess  had  appeared 
in  tlie  streets. 

The  gi-eat  tnaestro  Gkick  had  composed  an  opera  for  the  occasion ; 
and  when,  on  the  night  of  its  representation,  the  empress  made  her 
appearance  in  the  imperial  loge,  followed  by  the  archduke  and  his 
bride,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  was  so  great  that  Gluck  waited 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  baton  in  hand,  before  he  could  begin  his  over- 
ture. 

But  now  the  jubilee  was  over,  the  shouts  were  hushed,  the  people 
had  returned  to  their  accustomed  routine  of  life,  and  the  exchequer 
of  the  empress  was  minus — one  million  of  florins. 

The  court  had  withdrawn  to  the  palace  of  Schonbrunn,  there  to 
enjoy  in  privacy  the  last  golden  days  of  autumn,  as  well  as  to  afliord 
to  the  newly  married  pair  a  taste  of  that  retirement  so  congenial  to 
lovers. 

Maria  Theresa,  always  munificent,  had  devoted  one  wing  of  the 
palace  to  the  exclusive  use  of  her  young  daughter-in-law  ;  and  her 
apartments  were  fitted  up  with  tlie  last  degree  of  splendor.  Elegant 
mirrors,  hulil  and  gilded  furniture,  costly  turkey  carpets  and 
exquisite  ])aintings,  adorned  tliis  princely  home  ;  and  as  the  prin- 
cess was  known  to  be  skilled  both  as  a  painter  and  musician,  one 
room  was  fitted  up  for  her  as  a  studio,  and  another  as  a  music-hall. 

From  the  music-room,  a  glass  door  led  to  a  balcony  filled  with 
rare  and  beautiful  flowers.  This  balcony  overlooked  tlie  park,  and 
beyond  was  seen  the  city,  made  lovely  by  the  soft  gray  veil  of  dis- 
tance, which  lends  such  beauty  to  a  landscape. 

On  tills  perfumed  balcony  sat  the  youthful  pair.  Isabella  reclined 
in  an  arm-chair  ;  and  at  her  feet  on  a  low  ottoman  sat  Joseph,  look- 
ing up  into  her  face,  his  eyes  beaming  with  happiness.  It  was  a 
lovely  sight — that  of  these  two  young  creatures,  who,  in  the  sweet, 
still  evening,  sat  together,  unveiling  to  one  another  the  secrets  of 
two  blameless  hearts,  and  forgetting  rank,  station,  and  the  world, 
were  tasting  the  pure  joys  of  happily  wedded  love. 

The  evening  breeze  whispered  Nature's  soft  low  greeting  to  them 
both ;  and  through  the  myrtle- branches  that,  hanging  over  the 
balcony,  clustered  around  Isabella's  head,  the  setting  sun  flung 
showers  of  gold  that  lit  up  her  face  with  the  glory  of  an  angel. 
Bright  as  an  angel  seemed  she  to  her  husband,  who,  sitting  at  her 
feet,  gazed  enraptured  upon  her.  How  graceful  he  thought  the 
contour  of  her  oval  face  ;  how  rich  the  scarlet  of  her  lovely  mouth  ; 
what  noble  thoughts  were  written  on  her  pale  and  lofty  brow,  and 
how  glossy  were  the  masses  of  her  raven  black  hair !  And  those 
wondrous  eyes  !  Dark  and  light,  lustrous  and  dim,  at  one  moment 
they  flashed  with  intellect,  at  another  they  glistened  with  unshed 
tears.  Her  form,  too,  was  slender  and  graceful,  for  Nature  had 
denied  her  nothing  ;  aiid  the  charm  of  her  appearance  (above  all,  to 
an  eye  weary  of  splendor)  was  made  complete  by  the  vapory  muslin 
dress  that  fell  around  her  perfect  figure  like  a  silver- white  cloud. 
The  only  ornament  that  flecked  its  snow  was  a  bunch  of  pink  roses, 
which  the  archduke  with  his  own  hand  had  culled  for  his  wife  that 
morning.  She  wore  them  in  her  bosom,  and  they  were  the  crown- 
ing beauty  of  that  simple,  elegant  dress. 

Isabella's    head  rested  amongst  the  myrtle-branches ;   her  eyes 


62  JOSEPH   II.  A^'D  HIS  COURT. 

were  fixed  upon  the  heavens,  with  a  look  of  iueiTable  sadness,  and 
gradually  the  smile  had  died  from  her  lips.  Her  countenance  con- 
trasted singularly  with  that  of  the  archduke.  Since  his  marriage, 
he  had  grown  handsomer  than  ever  ;  and  from  his  bright  expressive 
face  beamed  the  silent  elocjuence  of  a  young  and  joyful  existence. 

In  his  joy  he  did  not  see  the  painful  shadows  that  were  darken- 
ing his  wife's  pale  beauty.  Fc^r  a  while,  a  deep  stillness  was  about 
them.  Flooded  by  the  gold  of  the  setting  sun,  lay  the  park  at  their 
feet ;  farther  off  glimmered  the  domes  of  St.  Stephen  at  Vienna,  and 
faint  over  the  evening  air  came  the  soothing  tones  of  the  vesper-bell. 

"  How  beautiful  is  the  world  I"  said  Joseph,  at  length  :  and,  at 
the  sound  of  his  voice,  suddenly  breaking  the  stillness  that  had  been 
so  congenial  to  her  reveries,  Isabella  started.  A  slight  shiver  ran 
through  her  frame,  and  her  eyes  imwillingly  came  back  to  earth. 
He  did  not  see  it.  "Oh,  how  lovely  is  life,  my  Isabella,  now  that 
the  music  of  thy  heart  replies  to  mine  !  Never  has  earth  seemed  to 
me  so  full  of  beauty,  as  it  does  now  that  I  call  thee  wife." 

Isabella  laid  her  soft  hand  upon  her  husband's  head,  and  looked 
at  him  for  a  while.  At  lengch  she  stifled  a  sigh,  and  said,  "Are  you 
tlien  happy,  my  husband?" 

He  dreV  down  the  little  hand  that  was  resting  on  his  blonde 
curls,  and  kissed  it  fervently.  "A  boon,  my  beloved.  AVlien  we 
are  alone,  let  us  banish  Spanish  fomality  from  our  intercourse.  Be 
tlie  future  empress  before  the  world,  but  to  me  be  my  wife,  and  caU 
me  '  thou. ' " 

"I  will,"  replied  she,  blushing.  "And  I  repeat  my  question,  art 
thou  happy,  my  husband  ?" 

"I  will' tell'thee,  dearest.  Tliere  seems  within  me  such  a  flood 
of  melody  seeking  voice,  that  sometimes,  for  very  ecstasy,  I  feel  as 
if  I  must  shout  aloud  all  the  pent-up  joy  that  other  men  have  frit- 
tered away  from  boyhood,  and  I  have  garnered  up  for  this  hour. 
Again  I  feel  intoxicated  with  happiness,  and  fear  that  I  am  dream- 
ing. I  tremble  lest  some  rude  hand  awake  me,  and  I  look  aromid 
for  proof  of  my  sober,  waking  bliss.  I  find  it,  and  then  breaks 
forth  my  soul  in  hosannas  to  God.  And  when,  mingling  among 
jien,  I  see  a  face  that  looks  sad  or  pale,  I  feel  such  sympathy  for 
him  who  is  less  happy  than  I,  that  I  make  vows,  when  I  am  em- 
peror, to  heal  all  sorrow,  and  wipe  away  all  tears.  Then  come  great 
and  noble  aspirations,  and  I  long  to  give  back  to  my  people  the 
blessings  with  whicli  they  greeted  thee,  my  own  Isabella.  This  is 
not  one  feeling,  but  the  nieeting  of  many.  Is  it  happiness,  dearest"?" 

"  I  cannot  tell, "  replied  she  ;  "  for  happiness  is  u  thing  so  heavenly 
in  its  nature,  that  one  hardly  dares  to  give  it  a  name,  lest  it  take 
flight,  and  soar  l>ack  to  its  home  above  the  skies.  Let  us  not  press 
it  too  closelv,  lest  we  seek  it  and  it  be  gone. " 

"  We  sha'U  do  as  it  pleases  thee, "  said  Joseph,  snatching  her  two 
hands,  and  pressing  them  to  his  heart.  "  I  know  that  when  thou  art 
bv.  Happiness  is  here,  and  she  cannot  go  back  to  heaven,  unless  she 
take  thee  too. "  And  again  he  looked  at  his  wife,  as  if  he  would 
fain  liave  l)lended  their  dual  being  into  one. 

'•  I  wish  to  make  thee  a  confession,  Isabel, "  resumed  he.  "It  is 
a  great  crime,  dearest,  but  thou  wilt  give  me  absolution,  I  know. 
As  I  look  back,  I  can  .scarce  believe  it  myself,  but— hear.  When  tlie 
empress  gave  me  tliy  miniature,  beautiful  though  it  was^  I  gave  my 
consent  to  marrj",    but   my  heart  was  imtouched.      When  Coimt 


THE  DREAM  OF  LOVE.  63 

Bathiany  departed  on  his  mission,  I  prayed  that  every  obstacle 
might  encimiber  his  advance  :  and  oh,  my  beloved  !  when  I  heard 
that  thou  wert  coming,  I  almost  wished  thee  buried  under  Alpine 
avalanches.  When  I  was  told  of  thy  arrival,  I  longed  to  fly  away 
from  Vienna,  from  rank  and  royalty,  to  some  far  countiy,  some  se- 
cluded spot,  where  no  reasons  of  state  policy  would  force  me  to  give 
my  hand  to  an  unknown  bride.  Was  I  not  a  barbarian,  sweetest, 
was  I  not  an  arch-traitor?" 

"  No,  thou  wert  only  a  boy-prince,  writhing  under  the  heavy  load 
of  thy  royalty. " 

"  No,  I  was  a  criminal ;  but  oh,  how  I  have  expiated  my  sin  ! 
When  I  saw  thee  my  heart  leaped  into  life  ;  and  now  it  trembles  lest 
tliou  love  not  me!  But  thou  wilt  love  me,  wilt  thou  not?  thou  who 
hast  made  me  so  happy  that  I  wish  I  had  a  hundred  hearts  ;  for  one 
is  not  enough  to  contain  the  love  I  feel  for  thee  !"  * 

Isabella  was  gazing  at  him  with  a  melancholy  smile.  "  Dreamer !" 
said  she,  in  a  low  trembling  tone,  that  sounded  to  Joseph  like  heav- 
enly music — "dreamer!  the  heart  that  through  God's  goodness  is 
filled  with  love  is  of  itself  supernaturally  magnified ;  for  love  is  a 
revelation  from  heaven. " 

"Sweet  priestess  of  love!  how  truly  thou  art  the  intei-preter  of 
our  passion  !  For  it  is  ours,  my  Isabella,  is  it  not?  It  is  om?-  love 
of  which  we  speak,  not  mine  alone.  I  have  confessed  to  thee  ;  now 
do  the  same  by  me.  Tell  me,  my  wife,  didst  thou  liate  the  man  to 
whom  thy  passive  hand  was  given,  without  one  thouglit  of  thee  or  of 
thy  heart's  predilections? " 

How  little  he  guessed  the  torture  he  inflicted  !  He  looked  into 
her  eyes  with  such  trusting  faith,  wath  such  calm  security  of  happi- 
ness, that  her  sweet  face  beamed  with  tender  pity,  while  her  cheeks 
deepened  into  scarlet  blushes,  as  she  listened  to  his  passionate  decla- 
rations of  love.     Poor  Isabella  ! 

"No,"  said  she,  "no,  I  never  hated  thee,  Joseph.  I  had  already 
heard  enough  to  feel  esteem  for  my  future  husband  ;  and,  therefore, 
I  did  not  hate,  I  pitied  him." 

"Pity  him,  my  own,  and  wherefore?" 

"Because  without  consulting  hin  heart,  he  was  affianced  to  anim- 
known  girl,  unworthy  to  be  tlie  partner  of  his  brilliant  destiny. 
Poor  Isabella  of  Parma  was  never  made  to  be  an  empress,  Joseph." 

"She  was,  she  was  !  She  is  fit  to  be  empress  of  the  world,  for  all 
poetry,  all  goodness,  all  intellect  and  beauty  look  out  from  the  depths 
of  her  lustrous  eyes.  Oh,  look  upon  me,  star  of  my  life,  and  prom- 
ise to  guide  me  ever  with  thy  holy  light !" 

So  saying,  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  her  to  his  tender, 
manly  heart. 

"Promise  me,  beloved,"  whispered  he,  "promise  never  to  leave 
me." 

"I  promise,"  said  the  pale  wife,  "never  to  forsake  thee,  until  God 
calls  me  hence  to — " 

"Oh  !"  interrupted  Joseph,  "may  that  hour  never  strike  till  I  be 
in  heaven  to  receive  thee  ;  for  love  is  selfish,  Isabella,  and  my  daily 
prayer  is  now,  that  thy  dear  hand  may  close  my  eyes." 

"God  will  not  hear  that  prayer,  Joseph,"  replied  Isabella;  and 
as  she  spoke,  her  head  sank  upon  his  shoulder,  and  her  long  hair 
fell  from  its  fastening,  and,  like  a  heavy  mourning-veil,  shrouded 
*  These  are  his  own  words.    Caroccioli  "  Life  of  Joseph  II." 


84  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

them  both.     Her  husband  held  her  close  to  his  heart,  and  as  he  kissed 
her,  she  felt  his  tears  drop  upon  her  cheek. 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  he,  "why  it  is,  but  I  feel  sometimes  as  if 
a  tempest  were  gathering  above  my  head.  And  yet,  the  heavens  are 
cloudless,  the  sun  has  set ;  and  see,  the  moon  rises,  looking  in  her 
pale  beauty,  even  as  thou  dost,  my  love.  She  has  borrowed  loveli- 
ness from  thee  to-night,  for,  surely,  she  was  never  so  fair  before. 
But  all  seems  lovely  when  thou  art  near,  and,  I  think,  that,  per- 
chance— thou  lovest  me.  Tell  me,  Isabella,  tell  me,  dearest,  that 
thou  dost  love  me. " 

She  raised  her  head,  and  met  his  passionate  gaze  with  a  look  so 
sad  that  his  heart  grew  cold  with  apprehension.  Then  her  eyes 
turned  heavenward,  and  her  lips  moved.  He  knew  that  she  was 
praying.     But  why,  at  such  a  moment? 

"Tell  me  the  trvith  !"  cried  he,  vehemently — "tell  me  the  truth  !" 

" I  cannot  answer  thee  in  words, "  murmured  Isabella,  "but  thou 
shalt  have  music — love's  own  interpreter.  Come,  let  us  go  into  the 
music-room. " 

And,  light  as  a  fairy,  she  tripped  before,  opening  herself  the 
door,  though  he  strove  to  prevent  her. 

"No,  this  is  ?H?/ temple,  and  my  hands  unclose  the  doors,"  said 
she,  once  more  self-possessed. 

Her  husband  followed  her,  enchanted.  She  looked  around  at  the 
various  instruments,  and  struck  a  few  choixls  on  the  j^iano. 

"No.  This  is  too  earthly.  My  own  favorite  instrument  shall 
speak  for  me. " 

So  saying,  she  opened  a  case  that  lay  on  the  table,  and  took  from 
it  a  violin. 

"  This, "  said  she  to  her  husband,  "  is  the  violin  that  came  with 
me  from  Italy. " 

"  How,  Isabella, "  exclaimed  he,  "  dost  thou  play  on  my  favorite 
instrument  ?" 

"The  violin,  tome,  is  dear  above  all  instruments,"  replied  she; 
"  it  alone  has  tones  that  respond  to  those  of  the  human  heart. "  * 

With  indescribable  grace  she  raised  the  violin  to  her  shoulder, 
and  began  to  play.  At  first  her  chords  were  light  and  airy  as  the 
sounds  from  an  ^olian  harp  ;  then  the  melody  swelled  until  it  broke 
into  a  gush  of  harmony  that  vibrated  through  every  chord  of  the 
archduke's  beating  heart.  As  he  stood  breathless  and  entranced,  she 
seemed  to  him  like  that  picture,  by  Fiesole,  of  the  angel  that  com- 
forts the  dying.  This  picture  had  alwaj's  been,  above  all  others,  the 
archduke's  favorite,  and  nowitstood  embodied  beforehim,  aliving, 
breatliing  divinity. 

The  music  died  ;i  way  to  his  ear,  though  still  she  played  ;  butnow 
it  seemed  to  stream  from  her  ej'es  that  shone  like  luminous  stars, 
and  flow  from  her  softly  moving  lips,  that  wliispered  to  the  spirits 
which  now  low,  now  loud,  lauglied,  sighed,  or  sobbed  out  their  re- 
sponses from  the  inngie  violin. 

Isabella  was  no  longer  a  woman  and  his  wife.  She  was  a  glori- 
iied  spirit ;  and  now  he  trembled  lest  his  angel  should  vanish,  and 
leave  him  nothing  but  the  memory  of  a  heavenly  vision.  His  eyes 
filled  with  tears  ;  a  convulsive  sigh  broke  from  his  breast,  and,  bury- 
ing his  face  in  his  hands,  he  sank  down  upon  the  sofa. 

*  The  infanta,  who  played  ou  several  in.-itruments,  excelled  oo  the  violin.    Wraxall, 
vol.  ii.,  page  390. 


THE  DREAM  OF  LOVE.  65 

A  light  shudder  ran  through  Isabella's  frame ;  her  eyes,  which 
had  wandered  far,  far  beyond  the  portals  that  shut  us  out  from 
heaven,  looked  wildly  around.  Her  husband's  sigh  had  awakened 
lier  from  a  blissful  dream,  and  once  more  her  weary  heart  sank  des- 
olate to  the  earth.  But  with  an  expression  of  tenderest  pity  she 
turned  toward  him  and  smiled.  Then  her  music  changed  ;  it  pealed 
out  in  rich  harmony,  fit  for  mortal  ears.  She  saw  her  complete  mas- 
tery over  the  archduke's  soul ;  his  eyes  grew  bright  and  joyful  once 
more,  and  from  his  countenance  beamed  the  light  of  perfect  con- 
tentment. 

"  Our  epithalaviium  ' "  exclaimed  he,  overjoyed,  and  no  longer  able 
to  control  his  exultation,  he  darted  from  his  seat,  and  clasped  the 
dear  musician  in  his  arms. 

■'  I  thank  thee,  my  Isabella, "  said  he,  with  a  voice  that  trembled 
with  excess  of  happiness.  "Yes,  this  is  the  voice  of  love  ;  thou  hast 
answered  me  with  our  wedding-song.  In  this  melody  is  drowned 
every  bitter  ]-emembrance  of  my  life  ;  the  discords  of  the  past  have 
melted  into  ricliest  harmony — for  thou  returnest  my  love.  A  thou- 
sand times  I  thank  thee  ;  this  hour  is  sacred  to  me  forever. 

"Thou  liast  said  that  thou  lovest  me,"  continued  the  happy  lius- 
band,  "and  now  I  feel  the  power  and  strength  of  a  god.  lam  ready 
for  the  battle  of  life. " 

"  But  I  tliink  tliat  I  saw  the  god  weep.  Poor  mortal  friend,  gods 
shed  no  tears — tears  are  the  baptism  of  liumanity.  " 

"  Oh,  gods  must  weep  for  joy,  Isabella,  else  they  could  not  feel  its 
perfection  !" 

"  May  Heaven  grant  that  thou  weep  no  other  tears !"  said  the 
wife,  solemnly.  "  But  hear,  "  continued  she,  raising  her  little  hand, 
"the  palace  clock  strikes  eight,  and  we  promised  her  majesty  to 
spend  this  evening  with  the  imperial  family  circle.  AVe  must  be 
punctual,  and  I  have  scarcely  time  to  dress. " 

"Why,  wilt  tliou  change  that  sweet  simple  dress?  Art  thou  not 
always  the  pride  of  the  court?  Come — thy  muslin  and  roses  will 
shame  all  the  silk  and  jewels  of  my  sisters.     Come  !" 

She  laid  her  hand  gently  upon  the  arm  that  drew  her  forward, 
and  courtesied  before  him  with  mock  ceremony. 

"  My  lord  and  husband,  "  said  she,  laughing,  "although  your  im- 
perial highness  has  banished  Madame  Etiquette  from  our  balcony, 
remember  that  she  stands  grimly  awaiting  us  by  yonder  door,  and 
we  must  take  her  with  us  into  the  presence  of  our  august  empress. 
Madame  Etiquette  would  never  permit  me  to  pass  in  this  simple 
dress.  She  would  order  me  indignantly  from  her  sight,  and  your 
highness  also.  Go,  therefore,  and  don  your  richest  Spanish  habit. 
In  fifteen  minutes  I  await  your  highness  here. " 

She  made  another  deep  courtesy.  The  archduke,  taking  up  the 
jest,  approached  hei-,  and,  kissing  her  band,  replied  : 

"I  obey  your  imperial  highness,  as  yotir  loyal  husband  and  lov- 
ing subject.  I  shall  deck  myself  with  stars  and  orders ;  and  in 
princely  splendor  I  shall  return,  as  becomes  the  spouse  of  the  arch- 
duchess of  Austria.     Your  highness's  obedient  servant. " 

And  in  true  Spanish  fashion,  he  bent  his  knee  and  kissed  the  hem 
of  lier  rol)e.  Backing  out  of  her  presence  he  bowed  again  as  he 
reached  the  door,  but  catching  her  laughing  eyes,  he  suddenly  dashed 
right  over  Madame  Etiquptte.  and  catching  his  wife  in  his  arms,  be 
gave  her  a  last  and  a  right  burgher- like  kiss.     The  archduke  was 


G6  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS   COURT. 

very  happy,  and  the  archduchess — well !  One  day  God  will  reward 
her ! 

As  the  door  closed,  the  expression  of  her  face  changed.  The 
smile  died  from  her  lips,  and  her  eyes  were  dim  with  tears. 

"Poor  boy!"  murmured  she,  "'he  loves  me,  and  I— I  suffer  him 
to  believe  that  I  return  his  love,  while —  But  I  am  right, "  said  the 
devoted  girl,  and  she  clasped  her  hands  convulsively  together. 

"  O  my  Saviour !"  cried  she,  "  in  mercy  give  me  grace  while  I 
live,  to  be  true  to  the  vows,  that  before  thine  altar,  I  have  sworn  to 
the  Archduke  of  Austria  !  It  were  cruel  in  me  to  wound  his  noble 
heart — cruel  to  awake  him  from  his  dream  of  love  !  Let  him  at 
least  be  happy  while  I  live  ;  and  Lord  give  me  strength  that  I  faint 
not  under  my  burden  !" 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

GLUCK. 

The  sun  had  risen,  flooding  the  earth  with  light,  and  the  people 
of  Vienna  had  already  begun  their  labors  for  the  day.  But  the  cvir- 
tains  had  not  yet  been  drawn  from  a  richly-furnished  room,  whose 
walls  were  lined  with  books  ;  and  in  whose  centre  stood  a  table  cov- 
ered with  papers,  whereon  the  lights,  not  j-et  extinguished,  were 
dropping  their  waxen  tears  from  two  lofty  silver  candelabra.  At 
this  table  sat  a  man,  looking  earnestly  at  a  paper  covered  with  notes 
of  music.  He  had  sat  there  the  whole  night  long,  and  his  counte- 
nance gave  no  indication  of  the  exhaustion  that  follows  upon  night- 
watching.  His  large,  dark,  gi"ay  eyes  flashed  whenever  he  raised 
his  head  thoughtfully,  as  he  frequently  did ;  and  when  music  was 
born  of  his  thoughts,  a  smile  illuminated  his  otherwise  plain  face, 
and  a  wonderful  light  played  about  his  magnificent  forehead  ;  the 
glory  of  that  genius  which  had  made  it  her  dwelling-place. 

The  form  of  this  man  was  as  striking  as  his  face.  Tall  and  com- 
manding in  stature,  his  wide  shoulders  seemed  proudly  to  bear  the 
weight  of  the  head  that  towered  above  them,  and  in  his  lofty  bear- 
ing tliere  was  a  dignity  that  betokened  either  rank  or  genius. 

He  liad  both  ;  for  this  man  was  Cliristopher  von  Gluck,  son  of  a 
huntsman  of  Prince  Eugene,  who  was  born  in  1714,  in  the  village  of 
Weidenwang. 

This  son  of  the  poor  huntsman  was  known  throughout  all  Europe  ; 
and  in  Italy,  the  nobles  in  their  i)alucesand  the  people  on  the  streets 
sang  the  melodies  of  Pliedra,  Aniigonc,  Scmirmnidc,  and  Televiwco. 
In  Germany  he  was  less  known  ;  and  in  Vienna  alone,  Avas  he  truly 
appreciated. 

There  he  sat,  unconscious  of  the  daylight.  On  a  chair  at  his  side 
lay  a  violin  and  a  flute  ;  near  them,  a  violoncello  leaned  against  the 
wall,  and  within  reacli  of  his  hand  stood  one  of  those  upright  pianos 
just  then  coming  into  fashion. 

At  one  moment  he  wrote  rapidly,  at  another  he  hummed  a  mel- 
ody ;  again,  half  declaiming,  half  singing,  he  read  off  a  recitative; 
and  then  bent  over  and  wrote  with  all  his  might.  The  light  began 
to  smoke,  and  the  wax  dropped  over  liis  music,  but  he  saw  none  of 
it ;  neither  saw  he  the  daylight  tliat  liad  replaced  his  candles.  He 
was  so  absorbed  in  his  work  as  not  to  hear  a  knock  at  his  door. 


GLUCK.  67 

But  now  the  knock  was  repeated  ;  and  this  time  so  distinctly  that 
it  waked  him  from  his  dream  of  harmony,  and  he  frowned.  He  rose, 
and  striding  to  the  door,  withdrew  the  bolt. 

The  door  opened,  and  a  tall,  elegant  woman,  in  a  tasteful  morn- 
ing-dress came  in.  Her  fine,  regular  features  were  disturbed,  and 
her  eyes  were  red  with  weeping  or  watching.  When  she  saw  Gluck 
looking  so  fresh  and  vigorous,  she  smiled,  and  said,  "Heaven  be 
praised,  you  are  alive  and  well!  I  have  passed  a  night  of  anxious 
terror  on  your  account. " 

"And  why,  Marianne?"  asked  he,  his  brow  unbent,  and  his  face 
beaming  with  tenderness  ;  for  Gluck  idolized  his  beautiful  wife. 

She  looked  at  his  quiet,  inquiring  face,  and  broke  into  a  merry 
laugh. 

"Oh,  the  barbarian,"  cried  she,  "not  to  know  of  what  ae  has 
been  guilty  of  !  Why,  Christopher,  look  at  those  burnt-out  wax 
lights — look  at  the  daylight  wondering  at  you  through  your  cur- 
tains. Last  night,  at  ten  o'clock,  T  lit  these  candles,  and  you  prom- 
ised to  work  for  only  two  hours  more.  Look  at  them  now,  and  see 
what  you  have  been  doing. " 

"Indeed,  I  do  believe  that  I  have  been  here  all  niglit,  "said  Gluck, 
with  naive  astonishment.  "But I  assure  you,  Marianne,  that  I  fully 
intended  to  go  to  bed  at  the  end  of  two  hours.  Is  it  my  fault  if  tlie 
night  has  seemed  so  short?  Twelve  hours  since  we  parted?  Can  it 
be?" 

He  went  to  tlie  window  and  drew  the  curtains.  "  Daj' !"  cried  he, 
"and  the  sun  so  bright !"  He  looked  out  with  a  smile  ;  but  suddenly 
his  brow  grew  thoughtful,  and  he  said  in  "  low  voice  : 

"Oh,  may  the  light  of  day  shine  upon  me  als(^ !" 

His  wife  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm.  "  And  upon  whom  falls 
the  light  of  day,  if  not  upon  you?"  asked  she,  reproachfully. 
"  Look  back  upon  your  twenty  operas,  and  see  each  one  bearing 
its  laurel-wreath,  and  shouting  to  the  world  your  fame!  And  now 
look  into  the  future,  and  see  their  unborn  sisters,  whose  lips  one 
day  will  open  to  the  harmony  of  your  music,  and  will  teach  all  na- 
tions to  love  your  memory!  And  I,  Christopher,  I  believe  more  in 
your  future  than  in  your  past  successes.  If  I  did  not,  think  you 
that  I  would  indulge  you  as  I  do  in  your  artistic  eccentricities,  and 
sit  like  a  lovelorn  maiden  outside  of  this  door,  my  ear  strained  to 
listen  for  your  breathing — dreading  lest  some  sudden  stroke 
should  have  quenched  the  light  of  that  genius  which  you  overtask 
— yet  daring  not  to  ask  entrance,  lest  my  presence  should  affright 
your  other  loves,  the  Muses?  Yes,  my  dear  husband,  I  have  faith 
in  the  power  of  your  genius;  and  for  you  this  glorious  sun  has 
risen  to-day.  Chase  those  clouds  from  the  heaven  of  your  brow. 
They  are  ill-timed." 

In  the  height  of  her  enthusiasm  she  twined  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  and  rested  her  head  upon  Gluck's  bosom. 

He  bent  down  and  kissed  her  forehead.  "  Then,  my  wife  has 
faith,  not  in  what  I  have  done,  but  in  what  I  can  do?  Is  it  so, love?" 

"  It  is,  Christopher.     I  believe  in  the  power  of  your  genius." 

Gluck's  face  wore  an  expression  of  triumph  as  she  said  this, 
and  he  smiled.  His  smile  was  very  beautiful,  and  ever,  when  she 
saw  it,  his  wife  felt  a  thrill  of  happiness.  Never  had  it  seemed  to 
her  so  full  of  heavenly  inspiration. 

"  Since  such  is  your  faith  in  me,  my  Egeria,  you  will  then  have 
courage  to  hear  what  I  have  to  tell.    Tear  a^vay  the  laurel-wreaths 


08  JOSEPH    II.    AND    HIS    COURT. 

from  my  past  works,  Marianne — burn  them  to  ashes.  They  are  dust 
and  to  dust  they  will  surely  return.  Their  mirth  and  their  melody, 
their  pomp  and  their  jsathos,  are  all  lies.  They  are  not  the  true 
children  of  insiiiration — they  are  impostors.  .They  are  the  offspring 
of  our  affected  and  falsely  sentimental  times,  and  deserve  not  im- 
mortality. Away  with  them!  A  new  day  shall  begin  for  me,  or  I 
shall  hide  my  head  in  bitter  solitude,  despising  my  race,  who  ap- 
plaud the  juggler,  and  turn  away  in  coldness  from  the  veritable 
artiste." 

'*  What!"  exclaimed  Marianne,  "  those  far-famed  operas  that  de- 
light the  world — are  they  nothing  more  than  clever  deceptions?  " 

"  Nothing  more,"  cried  Gluck.  "They  did  not  gush  from  the  holy 
fount  of  inspiration;  they  were  composed  and  arranged  to  suit  the 
taste  of  the  public  and  the  dexterity  of  the  singers,  who,  if  they  trill 
and  juggle  with  their  voices,  think  that  they  have  reached  the  sum- 
mit of  musical  perfection.  But  this  must  no  longer  be.  I  have 
written  for  time,  I  shall  now  work  for  immortality.  Let  me  inter- 
pret what  the  angels  have  whispered,  and  then  you  shall  hear  a  lan- 
guage which  nothing  but  music  can  translate.  What  are  the  lame 
efforts  of  speech  by  the  side  of  its  thrilling  tones?  Music  is  a  divine 
revelation,  but  men  have  not  yet  received  it  in  their  hearts.  /  have 
been  made  its  messenger,  and  I  shall  speak  the  message  faithfully." 

'*  Ah,  Christopher,"  interposed  Marianne,  "  I  fear  you  will  find 
no  followers.  If  the  message  be  too  lofty  for  the  hearers,  the  mes- 
senger will  be  driven  away  in  disgrace." 

"  Hear  the  coward!"  cried  Gluck  vehemently;  "  see  the  woman's 
nature  shrinking  from  the  path  of  honor  because  it  is  beset  with 
danger.  I  did  well  not  to  let  you  know  the  nature  of  my  last  labors, 
for  with  your  sighs  and  croakings  you  would  have  turned  me  back 
again  into  the  highway  of  falsehood.  But  you  are  too  late,  liol- 
troon.  The  work  is  done,  and  it  shall  see  light."  Gluck  looked  at 
his  wife's  face,  and  the  expression  he  saw  there  made  him  pause. 
He  was  already  sorry,  and  ready  to  atone.  "  No,  no!  I  wrong  you, 
my  Egeria:  not  only  are  you  the  wife  of  my  love,  but  the  friend  of 
my  geniys.  Come,  dearest,  let  us  brave  the  world  together;  and 
even  if  that  fail  us,  let  us  never  doubt  the  might  of  truth  and  the 
glory  of  its  interpreters." 

So  saying,  (ijuck  reached  out  his  hands;  and  his  wife,  with  a 
trusting  smile,  laid  both  hers  upon  them.  "  How  can  you  doidjt  me, 
Christopher?  "  asked  she.  "  Look  back  into  the  past,  to  the  days  of 
our  courtship,  and  say  then  who  was  faint-hearted,  and  who  then 
declared  that  his  little  weight  of  grief  was  too  heavy  for  those 
l)road  shoulders  to  bear." 

"  I!  1!"  confessed  Gluck;  "  but  I  was  in  love,  and  a  man  in  love 
is  always  a  craven." 

"  And  I  suppose,"  laughed  Marianne,  "  that  I  was  not  in  love, 
which  will  accoimt  for  my  energy  and  ]iatience  on  that  occasion. 
To  Ihink  that  my  rich  father  tlioughl  me  too  good  for  Gluck!  — 
Heaven  forgive  me,  but  I  could  not  mourn  him  as  I  might  have 
done,  had  his  death  not  left  me  free  to  marry  you,  you  ill-natured 
giant.  Yes!  and  now  that  twelve  years  have  gone  by,  I  love  you 
twice  as  well  as  I  did;  and  God,  who  knew  there  was  no  room  in  my 
heart  for  other  loves,  has  given  me  no  children,  for  T  long  for  none. 
You  are  to  nu^  husband,  lover,  friend,  and — yoti  need  not  shal<e 
your  head,  sir — you  are  child,  too.  Then  why  have  j'ou  kejjt  your 
secrets  from  me — tell  me,  traitor,  why?  " 


GLUCK.  69 

"Not  because  you  were  faint-hearted,  my  beloved,"  said  Ghuk 
vvitli  emotion  ;  "  my  violent  temper  wronged  us  both,  when  it  pro- 
voked me  to  utter  a  word  so  false.  But  genius  must  labor  in  secret 
and  in  silence  ;  its  works  are  like  those  enchanted  treasures  of  which 
we  have  read — speak  of  their  existence,  and  lo !  they  are  ashes. 
Sometimes  genius  holds  an  enchanted  treasure  before  the  eyes  of  the 
artiste,  who  in  holy  meditation  must  earn  it  for  himself.  One  word 
spoken  breaketh  the  spell,  and  therefore  it  was,  Marianne,  that  I 
spoke  not  the  word.  But  the  treasure  is  mine  ;  I  have  earned  it, 
and  at  my  wife's  feet  I  lay  it,  perchance  that  she  may  stand  by  my 
side,  while  the  world  rejects  it  as  worthless,  and  heaps  obloquy  upon 
my  head. " 

•'  His  will  be  a  bold  hand  that  casts  the  first  stone  at  the  giant !" 
said  Marianne,  looking  proudly  upon  the  tall  and  stalwart  figure  of 
lier  husband. 

"  You  call  me  giant,  and  that  recalls  to  me  a  fact  which  bears 
upon  the  subject  of  our  conversation  now,  "said  Gluck,  with  a  laugh. 
"It  was  the  fall  of  my  '  Giant'  that  first  showed  me  the  precipice 
toward  wiiich  I,  my  works,  and  all  my  musical  predecessors,  were 
hastening. " 

"You  mean  your '  C'aduta  de  Giganti, '  which  you  tried  to  exhibit 
before  those  icy  English  people?" 

"  Do  not  speak  against  the  English,  Marianne  ;  they  are  a  good, 
upright  nation.  It  is  not  their  fault  if  they  are  better  versed  in  book- 
keeping than  in  music  ;  and  I  do  not  know  that  they  are  far  wrong 
when  they  prefer  the  chink  of  gold  to  the  strumming  and  piping 
which,  until  now,  the  world,  turning  up  the  whites  of  its  e3'es,  has 
called  music.  I,  who  had  been  piping  and  strumming  with  the  rest, 
suddenly  rushed  out  of  the  throng,  and  thrusting  my  masterpiece  in 
their  faces,  told  them  that  it  was  music.  Was  it  their  fault  if  they 
turned  their  backs  and  would  not  believe  meV     I  think  not." 

"Oh  !  you  need  not  excuse  the  English,  Christopher.  I  know  the 
history  of  the  'C'aduta  de  Giganti, '  although  Master  Gluck  has  never 
told  it  me.  I  know  that  the  young  artist  met  with  no  favor  at  Eng- 
lish hands  ;  and  I  Ivnow  that  because  his  works  were  not  a  lame  rep- 
etition of  Italian  music  and  water,  the  discerning  Londoners  voted 
it  worthless.  I  know,  too,  that  Master  Gluck,  in  his  distress,  took 
counsel  with  the  great  Handel,  and  besought  him  to  point  out  the 
opera's  defects.     Then  said  Handel — " 

"How,  dear  prattler,  you  know  what  Handel  said?" 

"  I  do,  Master  Gluck.  Handel  said  :  '  You  have  given  yourself 
too  much  trouble,  man.  To  please  the  English  public  you  must  make 
a  great  noise,     'rive  them  plenty  of  brass  and  sheep-skin. '  " 

"So  he  did,"  cried  Gluck,  convulsed  with  laughter.  "I  followed 
his  advice.  I  sprinkled  the  choruses  with  trumpet  and  drum,  and 
the  second    ime  the  opera  came  out  it  was  a  complete  success." 

Marianne  joined  in  the  mirth  of  her  Inisband. 

"But  now,  if  all  this  is  true,  whv  do  you  like  the  English?" 

"  Because  my  failure  in  England  taught  me  the  utter  worthless- 
ness  of  our  present  school  of  music,  and  inspired  me  with  the  desire 
to  reform  it. " 

He  drew  her  arm  within  his,  and  seated  her  on  the  divan  by  his 
side. 


70  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE  NEW  OPERA. 

"  Now,  Marianne, "  said  he,  putting  his  arm  around  her  waist, 
"hear  the  secret  history  of  my  musical  career.  I  will  tell  you  of 
the  misfortunes  which  my  genius  has  encountered  through  life.  I 
begin  with  England.  It  is  of  no  use  to  go  back  to  the  privations  of 
my  boyhood,  tliough  they  were  many  ;  for  hunger  and  thirst  are  tlie 
tribute  that  man  must  pay  to  fate  for  the  capital  which  genius  gives 
to  him,  and  which  he  must  increase  with  all  his  might  and  all  his 
strength.  Even  as  a  boy,  I  craved  less  for  bread  than  for  fame  ;  and 
I  consecrated  my  life  and  soul  to  art.  I  thought  that  I  was  ia  the 
right  way,  for  I  had  written  eight  operas,  which  the  Italians  lauded 
to  the  skies.  But  the  '  Cadnta  de  Giganti '  was  a  failure,  and  '  Arta- 
mene  '  likewise.  This  double //asco  enraged  me  (you  know  my  bad 
temper,  Marianne) .  I  could  not  bear  to  be  so  misconceived.  I  was 
determined  to  show  the  English  that,  in  sjjite  of  them,  I  was  an  art- 
iste. I  longed  to  bring  them  to  my  feet,  as  Jupiter  did  the  Titans.  So 
I  ordered  from  one  of  those  poetasters  to  be  found  in  every  laud,  a 
sort  of  libretto,  called,  in  theatrical  parlance,  a  lyric  drama  ;  and  to 
the  words  of  this  monstrosity  I  arranged  the  very  finest  airs  of  my 
several  operas.  When  I  had  completed  this  musical  kaleidoscope  I 
called  it  'Pyramus  and  Tliisbe. '  I  dished  up  my  olla  podrida,  and 
set  it  before  the  hungry  English  ;  but  they  did  not  relish  it.  The 
public  remained  cold,  and,  what  was  far  worse,  I  remained  cold 
myself.  I  thought  orer  this  singular  result,  and  wondered  how  it 
was  that  music  which,  as  a  part  of  the  operas  for  which  it  svas 
written,  had  seemed  so  full  of  soul,  now  faded  into  insipidity  when 
transplanted  to  the  soil  of  other  dramatic  situations.  I  found  the 
answer  in  the  (juestiou.  It  was  because  I  liad  transplanted  my  music 
from  its  native  soil,  that  its  beauty  had  flown.  Then  it  burst  uj^on 
my  mind  that  tlie  libretto  is  the  father  of  the  opera,  the  music  its 
mother ;  and  so,  if  the  father  be  not  strong  and  lusty,  the  mother 
will  bring  forth  a  sickly  offspring,  which  offspring  cannot  grow  up 
to  perfection.  Now,  my  operas  are  sickly,  for  they  are  the  children 
of  an  unsound  fatlier,  who  is  no  true  poet." 

"Still,  still,  rash  man  !"  whispered  Marianne,  looking  around  as 
tliough  slie  feared  listeners.  "Do  you  forget  that  the  father  of  your 
operas  is  Metastasio?" 

"  I  remember  it  too  well ;  for  many  of  my  works  hav  perished 
from  their  union  with  his  weak  and  sentimental  verses.  Perished, 
in  j/iy  estimation,  I  mean;  for  to  make  my  operas  i)assable,  I  have 
<^)ften  been  obliged  to  write  fiery  music  to  insij)id  words  ;  and  intro- 
ducejioritnres  out  of  place,  that  the  nightingales  miglit  compen.sate 
to  the  world  for  the  sliortcomings  of  the  poec.  Well,  my  heart  has 
bled  while  I  wrote  siicli  music,  and  I  prayed  to  (Jod  to  send  me  a 
true  poet — one  wlio  C(Mild  write  of  something  else  besides  love;  one 
who  could  rise  to  tlie  iieight  of  my  own  ins])iration,  and  who  could 
develop  a  genuine  lyri(!  drama,  with  cliaracters,  not  personages,  and 
a  plot  whose  interest  should  increase  unto  its  end." 

"And  have  you  found  himV"  asked  Marianne,  with  a  meaning 
smile. 


THE  NEW  OPIJRA.  71 

"I  have.     Itis— " 

"Calzabigi,"  interrupted  she. 

"  How  !"  cried  the  fiery  Ghick,  "  after  promising  secrecy,  has  he 
been  unable  to  curb  his  tongue?" 

■'  Nonsense,  Christopher  !  he  has  not  said  a  word  to  me.  I  guessed 
this  long  ago. " 

•'  And  how  comes  it  that  you  never  hinted  a  word  of  it  to  me  9  " 

"  I  waited  for  the  hour  when  you  deemed  it  best  to  speak,  my  love  ; 
for  I  fully  comprehend  the  reasons  for  your  silence.  I  waited  there- 
fore until  Minerva  should  come  forth,  full  armed,  tochxllenge  Jove's 
opponents  to  the  strife.  Meanwhile  I  had  faith  in  God  and  thee, 
Christopher,  and  I  prayed  for  Heaven's  blessing  on  thy  genius." 

"  Heaven  will  hear  thy  prayer,  my  better  self, "  cried  Gluck, 
drawing  h!s  wife  close  to  his  heart.  "Oh,  how  happy  I  feel  to  be 
permitted  to  speak  with  thee  of  my  past  labors  !  How  gladly  shall  I 
listen  to  thy  criticisms  or  thy  approval !  both,  more  to  me  than  those 
of  all  the  world  beside.     Come,  Marianne,  I  will  begin  now." 

He  sprang  up  from  the  divan,  and  would  have  hurried  to  the 
piano,  but  Marianne  held  him  back.  '■'■Maestro,''^  said  she,  "before 
we  sacrifice  to  Apollo,  let  us  give  to  life  and  mortality  their  rights. 
Prose  awaits  us  in  the  dining-room,  and  we  shall  give  her  audience 
before  we  open  the  pages  of  this  nameless  opera." 

"  You  shall  hear  its  name,  Marianne.     It  is — " 

Marianne  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  whispered,  "  Hush, 
my  Orpheus  !" 

"  How  !     You  know  that  also  ?" 

She  raised  her  hand,  as  if  in  menace.  "  Know,  Christopher,  that 
little  Hymen  tolerates  no  man  who  has  secrets  from  liis  wife.  You 
tried  to  be  silent,  but  betrayed  yourself  in  your  sleep.  You  do  not 
know  how  often  during  the  night  you  have  called  Eurydice  in  tones 
of  plaintive  music.  Nor  do  you  know  how,  as  you  appealed  to  the 
deities  of  the  infernal  regions,  I  shuddered  at  the  power  of  your 
weird  notes  !" 

"You  heard,  then,"  cried  Gluck,  enchanted.     "And  you — " 

"My  friend  Prose,  Prose  calls  with  angry  voice.  Away  to  the 
dining-room !  A  man  who  has  revelled  all  night  with  the  Muses, 
needs  refreshment  in  the  morning.  Nay — you  need  not  frown  like 
Jupiter  Tonans — you  must  go  with  me  to  eat  earthly  food,  before  I 
taste  your  nectai  and  ambrosia.  Come,  and  to  reward  your  indus- 
try you  shall  have  a  glass  of  Lacrim^  Christi  from  the  cellar  of  the 
Duke  of  Bologna. " 

She  drew  him  from  the  room,  and  succeeded  in  landing  him  at 
the  breakfast-table. 

"Now,  I  will  not  hear  a  word  about  art,"  said  Marianne,  when 
the  servants  had  brought  in  the  breakfast.  "  I  am  the  physician, 
both  of  body  and  mind,  and  condemn  you  to  a  silence  of  fifteen  min- 
utes.    Theu  you  may  talk." 

"  Of  my  opera,  carissima  9  " 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  of  the  wind  and  weather — nothing  else.  Now 
hush,  and  drink  your  chocolate. " 

So  Gluck,  obedient,  drank  his  chocolate,  and  ate  his  biscuit  and 
partridge- wing  in  silence. 

All  at  once,  the  comfortable  stillness  was  broken  by  a  loud  ring- 
ing of  the  door-bell,  and  a  servant  announced  Signer  Calzabigi. 

Gluck  darted  off  from  the  table,  but  Marianne,  laughing,  brought 
6 


72  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

him  back  again.  "First,  your  glass  of  Lacrimae  Christi,"  said  she. 
"Calzabigi  will  be  indulgent  and  wait  for  us  a  moment." 

He  took  the  glass,  and  inclining  his  head,  drank  her  health. 

"Marianne,"  said  he  cheerfully,  "I  have  been  amiable  and  trac- 
table as  a  good  child.  Enough  of  Pi-ose,  then — give  me  my  freedom 
now,  will  you?" 

"  Yes,  maestro ;  you  are  free  ;  your  body  is  refreshed,  and  can 
bear  the  weight  of  that  strong  soul  that  has  no  infirmities  to  impede 
its  flight.     Fly,  if  you  list — to  Calzabigi !" 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

KANIER"    VON    CALZABIGI. 

The  door  of  the  drawing-room  had  scarcely  opened  before  Calza. 
bigi  hastened  forward  to  meet  Gluck.  But,  seeing  his  wife,  ha 
stopped,  and  made  a  profound  inclination. 

"Speak  out,  friend,"  cried  Gluck  merrily.  "She  knows  every 
thing,  and  think  what  a  treasure  of  a  wife  she  is  !  She  has  known 
it  all  along,  without  betraying  herself  by  a  word." 

"  And  does  that  surprise  youV"  answered  Calzabigi.  "  It  does  not 
me,  for  well  I  know  that  the  signora  is  an  angel  of  prudence  as  well 
as  of  goodness.  Tlie  signora  will  allow  me  to  speak  before  her?  Well, 
then,  maestro,  the  die  is  cast.  I  am  just  from  the  house  of  Count 
Durazzo,  to  whom,  at  your  request,  I  took  the  opera  yesterday.  The 
count  sat  up  all  night  to  examine  it ;  and  this  morning,  when  I  was 
ushered  into  his  room,  I  found  him  still  in  his  evening-dress,  the 
score  on  the  table  before  him." 

"Hear,  Marianne,"  exclaimed  Gluck,  triumiihantly,  "it  is  not 
only  the  composer  who  forgets  to  sleep  for  the  sake  of  this  opera. 
And  what  said  the  theatrical  director,  Raniero?" 

"  He  said  that  no  intrigue  and  no  opposition  shoiild  prevent 
him  from  reprt'senting  this  magnificent  o])era.  He  says  that  he 
feels  ])roud  of  the  ])rivilege  of  introducing  such  a  clief-d'd'uvrc  to 
the  world,  lie  has  already  sent  for  the  transcribers;  he  has  chosen 
the  performers,  and  begs  of  the  author  to  distribute  the  parts.  But 
every  thing  must  l)e  done  at  once,  for  the  ojiera  comes  out  in  Octo- 
ber to  celebrate  the  bii-thtl;iy  of  the  young  Archduchess  Isabella." 

"  That  is  impossible,"  cried  Gluck.  "  We  are  in  July,  nnd  stich 
an  opera  cannot  be  learned  in  three  months." 

"  With  good-will,  it  can  be  done,  Christopher,"  said  Marianne, 
imploringly.  "Do  not  leave yoiirenemiestime  to  cabal  againstyou; 
siiatcli  the  victory  from  Iheni  before  they  have  time  for  sti-ategy." 

"  You  do  not  know  what  you  require  at  my  bands,"  returned 
he,  passionately.  "  You  do  not  know  how  an  ill-timed  pause  or  a 
slighted  rest  would  mar  the  fair  face  of  my  godlike  music,  and 
travesty  its  benuty." 

"  Hear  how  lie  defames  himself!"  laiighed  Marianne,  "  as  if  it 
were  so  easy  to  desecrate  Gluck's  masterpiece." 

"  It  is  precisely  because  it  is  my  masterpiece  that  it  is  easy  to 
travesty,"  returned  Cluck, earnestly.  "The  lines  which  distinguish 
the  hnnd  of alJ;ipha<M  froTnthat  of  a  lessergcniusare  so  delicate  as 
to  be  almost  inipen-eptibie.    Slight  deviations  of  the  pencil  have  no 


EANIERO  VON  CALZABIGI.  73 

effect  upon  a  caricature  ;  but  you  well  know  how  completely  a  beau- 
tiful face  may  be  disfigured  by  a  few  unskilful  touches.  I  will  cite 
as  an  example  the  aria  of  '  Orpheus, '  '  Che  faro  senza  Euridice. ' 
Change  its  expression  by  the  smallest  discrepancy  of  time  or  modu- 
lation, and  you  transform  it  into  a  tune  for  a  puiDiJet-show.  In 
music  of  this  description  a  misplaced  piano  or  forte,  an  ill-judged 
fioriture,  an  error  of  movement,  either  one,  will  alter  the  effect  of 
the  whole  scene.  The  opera  must,  therefore,  be  rehearsed  under  my 
own  direction,  for  the  composer  is  the  soul  of  his  opera,  and  his 
pi-esence  is  as  necessary  to  its  success  as  is  that  of  the  sun  to  the 
creation. "  * 

"  Well,  I  am  sure,  you  can  manage  the  whole  troupe  with  that 
stentor  voice  of  yours, "  replied  Marianne. 

" If  you  do  not  consent,  Gluck, "  interposed  Calzabigi,  "they  will 
have  to  rehearse  for  the  birthday  fete  an  opera  of  Hasse  and  Me- 
tastasio. " 

"What!"  shrieked  Gluck,  "lay  aside  my  '  Orpheus'  for  one  of 
Basse's  puny  operas?  Never!  My  opera  "is  almost  complete.  It 
needs  but  one  last  aria  to  stand  out  before  the  world  in  all  its  fulness 
of  perfection,  and  shall  I  suffer  it  to  be.  laid  aside  to  give  place 
to  one  of  his  tooting,  jingling  performances  V  No,  no.  My  '  Orpheus  ' 
shall  not  retire  before  Hasse's  pitiful  jeremiades.  It  shall  be  forth- 
coming on  the  birthday,  and  I  must  train  the  singers  by  day  and  by 
night. " 

"Right!"  exclaimed  Marianne,  "and  we  shall  crown  you  with 
new  laurels,  Christoijher,  on  that  eventful  night." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  Marianne.  It  is  easier  to  criticise  than 
to  appreciate,  and  every  thing  original  or  new  provokes  the  opposi- 
tion of  the  multitude.  In  our  case,  they  have  double  provocation, 
for  Calzabigi 's  poem  is  as  original  as  my  music.  We  have  both 
striven  for  simplicity,  nature,  and  truth  ;  we  have  both  discarded 
clap-trap  of  every  sort.  Oh,  Calzabigi,  my  friend,  how  happy  for 
me  that  I  have  found  such  a  poet !  If,  through  his  '  Orpheus, '  Gluck 
is  to  attain  fame,  he  well  knows  how  much  of  it  is  due  to  the  inspi- 
ration of  your  noble  poem. " 

"And  never,"  exclaimed  Calzabigi,  grasping  the  extended  hand 
of  the  composer,  "  never  would  the  name  of  poor  Calzabigi  have  been 
known,  had  Gluck  not  borne  it  along  upon  the  pinions  of  his  own 
fame.  If  the  world  calls  me  poet,  it  is  because  my  poem  has  bor- 
rowed beauty  from  Gluck's  celestial  music." 

"  Yes, "  said  Gluck,  laughing,  "  and  if  your  poem  fails,  you  will 
be  equally  indebted  to  Gluck's  music.  Those  half-learned  critics, 
so  numerous  in  the  world,  who  are  far  more  injurious  to  art  than 
the  ignorant,  will  rave  against  our  opera.  Another  class  of  musical 
pedants  will  be  for  discovering  carelessness,  and,  for  aught  we  know, 
the  majority  of  the  world  may  follow  in  their  wake,  and  condemn 
our  opera  as  barbarous,  discordant,  and  overstrained. " 

"  We  must  try  to  forestall  all  these  prejudices,  and  win  the  crit- 
ics to  the  side  of  truth  and  real  art, "  said  Marianne. 

"The  signora  is  right,"  said  Calzabigi.  "It  is  not  so  much  for 
our  own  sake,  as  for  the  sake  of  art,  that  we  should  strive  to  have 
a  fair  hearing  before  the  world.  We  have  the  powerful  party  of 
Metastasio  and  Hasse  to  gain.  But  I  will  deal  with  them  myself. 
You,  maestro,  speak  a  word  of  encouragement  to  Hasse,  and  he  will 

*  These  are  Gluck's  own  words.    Anton  Schmid,  "  Life  of  Gluck,"  page  153. 


74  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

be  so  OTerjoj'etl,  that  he  will  laud  your  opera  to  the  skies.  And  pray, 
be  a  man  among  men,  and  do  as  other  composers  have  done  before : 
pay  a  visit  to  the  singers,  and  ask  them  to  bring  all  their  skill  to  the 
representation  of  your  great  work  ;  ask  them  to — " 

Here,  Gluck,  boiling  over  with  indignation,  broke  in  upon  Cal- 
zabigi,  so  as  actually  to  make  the  poet  start  back. 

"  What !"  cried  he,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "shall  I  visit  the  ladies' 
maids  also,  and  make  them  declarations  of  love?  Shall  I  present 
each  singer  with  a  golden  snuff-box,  while  I  entertain  the  troupe  at 
a  supper,  where  champagne  shall  flow  like  water,  and  Indian  birds' - 
nests  shall  be  served  uj)  Avith  diamonds?  Shall  I  present  myself  in 
full  court-dress  at  the  anteroom  of  the  tenor,  and,  slipping  a  ducat 
in  the  hand  of  his  valet,  solicit  the  honor  of  an  interview?  Shall  I 
then  bribe  the  maid  of  the  prima  donna  to  let  me  lay  upon  her  mis- 
tress's toilet-table  a  poem,  a  dedication,  and  a  set  of  jewels?  Shame 
upon  you,  cravens,  that  would  have  genius  beg  for  sufi'rages  from 
mediocrity  !  Rather  would  I  throw  my  '  Orpheus  '  behind  the  fire, 
and  let  every  opera  I  have  ever  written  follow  it  to  destruction.  I 
would  bite  out  my  tongue,  and  spit  it  in  Hasse'sface,  sooner  than 
go  befoi-e  him  with  a  mouth  full  of  flattering  lies,  to  befool  him  with 
praise  of  that  patcliwork  he  has  made,  and  calls  an  opera  !  When 
I  was  obscure  and  unknown,  I  scorned  these  tricks  of  trade  ;  and 
think  you  that  to-day  I  would  stoop  to  such  baseness?  Eight  years 
ago,  in  Rome,  a  cabal  was  formed  to  cause  the  failure  of  my '  Trionfo 
de  Camilla, '  Cardinal  Albini  came  to  assure  me  that  his  influence 
should  put  down  the  plots  of  my  enemies.  I  thanked  him,  but  re- 
fused all  protection  for  my  opera  :  and  I  told  his  eminence  that  my 
works  must  depend  upon  their  own  worth  for  success.*  And  you 
dare,  at  this  time,  to  come  with  such  proposals  to  me?  You  are  not 
worthy  of  my  friendship.  I  will  have  nothing  further  to  say  to  either 
of  you,  you  cringing  puppets  !" 

So  saying,  with  his  dark-blue  dressing-gown  flying  out  like  an 
angry  cloud  behind  him,  Glvick  strode  across  the  room,  and  sailed 
off  to  his  private  study. 

Marianne,  smiling,  reached  out  her  hand  to  the  astounded  poet. 

"Forgive  his  stormy  temper,"  said  she,  gently  ;  "he  can  no  more 
bear  contradiction  thaii  a  spoiled  child.  His  wrath  looks  formida- 
ble ;  but  tliough  there  is  much  thunder,  there  is  no  lightning  about 
him.  Wait  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  kind  friend,  and  he  will  be  back, 
suing  for  pardon,  and  imploring  us  to  take  his  hand,  just  like  a 
naughty  cliild  that  he  is.  Tlien  he  will  smile,  and  look  so  ashamed 
that  you  will  lun-cr  have  the  heart  to  feel  resentful." 

"  I  have  none  alreadj-,  "  replied  Calzabigi  ;  "  his  thunder  has  rolled 
grandly  over  our  heads,  and  right  noble  are  its  sounds  ;  but  the  light- 
ning has  spared  us.  We  are  safe,  and — unconvinced.  For,  indeed, 
signora,"  continued  Raniero,  with  earnestness,  "we  are  right.  No 
reliance  is  ever  to  be  ])laced  upon  tlie  justice  or  good  taste  of  the 
world,  and  since  tlu;  viacstro  refuses  to  propitiate  his  judges,  I  will 
imdertake  the  task  myself.  I  shall  go  at  once  to  Metastasio,  and 
after  that  I  shall  invite  the  performers  to  a  supper. " 

*  This  is  true.    Anton  Schinid,  page  68. 


THE  BIRTHDAY.  75 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE  BIRTHDAY. 

It  was  the  birthday  of  the  Archduchess  Isabella,  and  all  Vienna 
was  alive  with  festivity.  The  passionate  love  of  the  archduke  for 
his  beautiful  youn^'  wife  was  well  known,  and  the  people  hastened 
to  offer  homage  to  the  beloved  partner  of  their  future  emperor. 

From  early  morning  the  equipages  of  the  nobility  were  seen  hur- 
rying to  the  palace,  where  tlie  archduchess  in  state,  surrounded  by 
tiie  other  members  of  the  imperial  family,  received  the  congratula- 
tions of  the  court.  In  an  adjoining  room,  on  a  table  of  white  mar- 
ble, were  exhibited  the  rich  gifts  by  which  her  new  relatives  had 
testified  their  affection;  for  Isabella  was  adored  by  her  husband's 
family. 

The  Emperor  Francis,  usually  so  simple,  had  presented  her  with 
a  set  of  jewels,  worth  half  a  million  ;  and  the  empress,  whose  joy  in 
the  happiness  of  her  son's  wedded  life  knew  no  bounds,  was  lavish 
in  her  demonstrations  of  love  to  the  woman  who  had  awakened  his 
heart  to  gentle  emotions. 

Not  only  had  every  variety  of  rich  costumes  been  ordered  for  Isa- 
bella from  Paris,  but  the  empress  had  gone  so  far  as  to  present  a  set 
of  bridal  jewels  to  her  little  grand -daughter,  a  child  scarcely  a  year 
old.  This  magnificent  parure  of  diamonds,  sapphires,  and  pearls, 
was  the  admiration  of  the  whole  court.  Around  it  lay  the  offerings 
of  the  young  sisters-in-law,  all  of  whom,  with  one  exception,  had 
presented  something.  The  Princess  Christina,  the  dearest  friend  of 
Isabella,  had  painted  her  miniature,  and  this  beautiful  likeness  was 
intended  as  a  present  to  the  Archduke  Joseph.  *  He  received  it  with 
delight ;  and  while  his  large  blue  eyes  wandered  from  the  portrait 
to  the  original,  he  testified  his  pleasure  by  every  possible  expression 
of  rapture  and  gratitude.  "And  yet,"  said  he,  "there  is  something 
in  tliis  picture  which  I  have  never  seen  in  jour  countenance,  Isa- 
bella. Your  eyes,  which  to  me  have  always  seemed  to  borrow  their 
light  from  heaven,  here  look  dark  and  unfathomable,  as  if  within 
their  melancholy  depths  there  lay  a  secret  full  of  untold  sorrow. " 

Joseph  did  not  perceive  the  look  of  intelligence  that  passed  be- 
tween his  wife  and  sister  as  he  spoke  these  words ;  he  still  gazed 
upon  the  picture,  and  at  last  his  face,  which  had  been  lit  up  with 
joy,  grew  sorrowful  and  full  of  thought.  Suddenly  he  laid  the  min- 
iature down,  and  placing  his  hands  upon  Isabella's  shoulders,  he 
looked  searchingly  at  her  jmle  countenance. 

"Look  at  me,  my  beloved,"  whispered  he,  tenderly,  "let  me  see 
your  bewitching  smile,  that  it  may  give  the  lie  to  yonder  strange 
image.  I  see  there  your  beautiful  features,  but  instead  of  my  lov- 
ing and  beloved  wife,  my  happy,  smiling  Isabella,  I  see  an  angel, 
but,  oh,  I  see  a  martyr,  too,  dying  of  some  secret  sorrow.  That  is 
not  your  face — is  it  my  wife?  You  have  never  looked  so  wretched, 
so  heart-broken  !  Speak,  Isabella,  you  are  happy,  are  you  not,  my 
own  one?" 

"Yes,  dear  husband, "  whispei-edshe,  scarcely  moving  her  blanched 
lips,  "  I  am  happy  and  contented  in  your  happiness.     But  see,  the 

*  Wraxall,  p^ge  38a. 


76  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

empress  beckons  to  you.     She  seems  about  to  present  some  stranger 
to  your  notice. " 

The  ai'chduke  left  to  obey  the  summons,  and  Isabella  and  Chris- 
tina remained  together,  looking  vacantly  upon  the  birthday-table 
and  the  splendid  gifts  that  lay  in  such  rich  profusion  before  their 
eyes. 

"Poor  brother !"  murmured  Christina,  "he  loves  asfevr  have  ever 
loved  before !  And  you,  dear  sister,  can  you  not  kindle  one  spark 
from  the  embers  of  your  heart  to  warm — " 

"  Why  speak  of  my  dead  heart?"  said  Isabella,  mournfully.  "  Did 
I  not  long  ago  confide  to  you  its  terrible  secret?  You,  my  trusted 
and  dearest  friend,  have  you  not  seen  how  I  pray  Heaven  for  strengtli 
to  hold  before  my  husband's  eyes  the  faint  ray  of  light  which  he 
mistakes  for  the  sunshine  of  love?  Dear  Joseph!  His  heart  is  so 
noble  and  so  rich  with  love  that  he  sees  not  the  poverty  of  mine. 
May  God  be  merciful  that  his  delusion  last  at  least  as  lone:  as  my 
life  !  then  will  I  die  happy  ;  for  I  shall  have  done  my  duty  in  the 
face  of  a  sorrow  transcending  all  other  sorrows." 

Christina  bent  her  head  over  the  glittering  heaps  before  her,  that 
no  one  might  see  her  tears.  But  Isabella  saw  them  as  they  fell  upon 
the  bridal  gifts  of  her  little  daughter. 

She  pointed  to  the  jewels.  "  See,  Christina,  your  tears  are  brighter 
than  our  dear  mother's  diamonds.     Now,  were  the  emperor  here — ■" 

"  Heaven  forbid  !"  said  Christina,  as  with  her  gossamer  handker- 
chief she  wiped  away  the  fallen  tear.  "  If  the  empress  were  to  know 
this,  she  would  be  justly  displeased,  that,  on  sucli  a  day,  my  tears 
should  dim  the  splendor  of  your  little  daughter's  bridal  jewels.  " 

" Give  yourself  no  concern  for  my  daughter's  jewels,  Christina; 
she  will  never  see  her  bridal-day." 

"  How?  Do  you  expect  her  to  be  an  old  maid,  like  my  two  eldest 
sisters?"  asked  Christina,  with  assumed  playfulness. 

Isabella  laid  her  hand  on  Christina's  shoulder.  "I  believe, "  said 
she,  solemnly,  "or  rather  I  know,  that  my  daughter  will  ere  long 
be  an  angel. " 

"Oh,  Isabella, "  cried  Christina,  almost  impatiently,  "is  it  not 
enougli  that  you  prophesy  your  own  death,  to  make  me  wretched, 
without  adding  to  my  grief  by  predicting  that  of  your  child,  too?" 

"  I  cannot  leave  her  behind,  Christina  ;  Isliould  be  unhappy  with- 
out her.  She  must  follow  me — but  hush  !  Here  comes  the  empress 
— let  us  be  happy  for  her  sake. " 

And  with  a  sweet  smile,  Isabella  advanced  to  greet  her  mother- 
in-law. 

"  My  dearest  daughter, "  said  the  empress,  ''  I  long  for  this  cere- 
monial to  end,  that  we  may  enjoy  our  hai)piness  en  famille.  We 
must  dine  in  private,  unless  you  wish  it  otlierwise,  for  to-day  you 
are  empress  of  all  hearts,  and  your  wishes  are  commands." 

Isabella  raised  the  hand  of  the  empress  to  her  lips.  "I  have  but 
one  wish  to-day,  your  majesty, "  said  she  ;  "  it  is  that  you  love 
me." 

"That  wish  was  granted  before  it  was  uttered,  my  beloved  child, " 
replied  the  empress,  tenderly,  "  for  indeed  I  love  you  more  and  more 
each  day  of  my  life  ;  jind  when  I  see  you  and  my  son  t()getlu>r,  your 
happiness  seems  like  the  old  melody  of  my  own  happy  bridal  so 
many  years  ago. " 

"  And  yet, "  said  Isabella,  "  your  majesty  looks  so  young — " 


THE  BIRTHDAY.  77 

"No,  child,  I  am  a  grandmother,"  replied  the  empress,  smiling 
proudly,  "  but  my  heart  is  as  young  as  ever,  and  it  leaps  with  joy 
when  I  look  upon  the  son  whom  you  have  made  so  happy.  Why, 
his  heart  looks  out  of  his  great,  blue  eyes  with  such— But  see  for 
yourself,  here  he  comes  I" 

At  this  moment  the  archduke  entered  the  room,  and  advanced 
toward  his  mother,  while  at  the  door,  apparently  awaiting  his  re- 
turn, stood  the  emperor  and  the  lord  high  chancellor,  Kamiitz. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  if  I  interrupt  you, "  said  the  arch- 
duke. "  I  have  just  learned  from  the  marshal  of  the  imperial  house- 
hold that  your  majesty  has  declined  going  to  the  opera  to-night. 
Can  this  be  possible,  when  Gluck's  new  opera  has  been  rehearsing 
for  two  months  with  especial  reference  to  this  occasion?" 

"  It  can, "  replied  the  empress,  "  for  I  do  not  interdict  the  repre- 
sentation— I  only  absent  myself  from  it. " 

The  archduke  crimsoned,  and  he  was  about  to  make  some  hasty 
reply,  when  he  felt  the  pressure  of  his  wife's  hand  upon  his  arm. 
He  smiled,  and  controlled  himself  at  once. 

"Forgive  me,  if  I  venture  to  remonstrate  with  your  majesty," 
replied  he,  good-humoredly.  "  This  new  opera  of  Gluck  is  a  musical 
gem,  and  is  well  worthy  your  majesty's  notice." 

"  I  have  been  told,  on  the  contrary,  that  it  is  very  tiresome, "  ex- 
claimed the  empress  with  impatience.  "The  libretto  is  heavy,  and 
the  music  also.  It  is  highly  probable  that  the  opera  will  fail,  and 
it  would  certainly  be  unfortunate  if,  on  this  day  of  rejoicing,  we 
should  assemble  there  to  witness  the  failure." 

"  But  your  majesty  may  have  been  misinformed, "  persisted  Joseph. 
"  Let  me  beg  of  you,  my  dear  mother,  for  the  sake  of  the  great  maes- 
tro, who  would  take  your  absence  sorely  to  heart,  as  well  as  for  the 
sake  of  the  director,  Count  Durazzo,  who  has  taken  such  pains  to 
produce  this  new  masterpiece— let  me  beg  you  to  reconsider  your 
decision. " 

"  And  allow  me  to  add  my  enti-eaties  to  those  of  Joseph, "  said  the 
emperor,  entering  the  room.  "  All  Vienna  awaits  the  new  represen- 
tation as  a  high  artistic  gratification.  Without  your  majesty 's  pres- 
ence the  triumph  of  the  maestro  will  be  incomplete. " 

"  And  tiie  emperor,  too,  opposes  me  ?"  said  Maria  Theresa.  "  Does 
he,  too,  desert  the  old  style,  to  follow  these  new-fangled  musical 
eccentricities?  Have  we  not  all  eu joyed  the  opera  as  it  exists  at 
present?  And  if  so,  why  shall  this  Master  Gluck  step  suddenly  for- 
ward and  announce  to  us  that  we  know  nothing  of  music,  and  that 
what  we  have  hitherto  admired  as  such  was  nothing  more  than  trum- 
pery? Why  does  he  disdain  the  poetry  of  Metastasio,  to  adopt  that 
of  a  man  whom  nobody  knows?  I  will  not  lend  my  hand  to  mortify 
the  old  man  who  for  thirty  years  has  been  our  court-poet.  I  owe  it 
to  him,  at  least,  not  to  appear  at  this  representation,  and  that  is 
reason  enough  for  me  to  refuse  my  presence  there. " 

"But  Calzabigi's  poem  is  of  surpassing  beauty, "  remonstrated  the 
emperor  ;  "  for  Kaunitz  himself  has  seen  it,  and  is  in  raptures  with 
it. " 

"Ah,  Kaunitz,  too,  has  given  his  adherence  to  the  new  musical 
caprice  of  Master  Gluck?"  said  the  empress,  signing  to  the  count  to 
come  forward. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty, "  said  Kaunitz,  bowing,  "  I  also  am  for  the 
new  and  startling,  whether  in  politics  or  in  music.     I  have  learned 


78  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

this  lesson  from  my  imperial  mistress,  whose  new  line  of  policy  now 
commands  the  admiration  of  all  Europe. " 

The  empress  received  these  flattering  words  with  an  emotion  of 
visible  pleasure  ;  for  it  was  seldom  that  Kauuitz  paid  compliments, 
even  to  sovereigns. 

"You  mean,  then,  that  Gluck  has  not  only  produced  something 
new,  but  something  of  worth,  alsoV" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  music  has  cut  off  her  queue,  and  reallj'  in 
her  new  coiffure  she  is  divinely  beavitiful.  Moreover,  your  majesty 
has  rewarded  the  seventy  years  of  Metastasio  with  a  rich  pension, 
proof  enough  to  him  of  the  estimation  iu  which  his  talents  are  held. 
Metastasio  belongs  to  the  old  regime  you  have  pensioned  off  ;  Calza- 
bigi  and  Gluck  are  children  of  our  new  Austria.  Your  majesty's 
self  has  created  this  Austria,  and  you  owe  to  her  children  your  im- 
perial countenance  and  favor." 

"  But  I  have  been  told  there  will  be  some  strife  to-night  between 
the  rival  parties, "  said  the  empress. 

"And  since  when  has  your  majesty  shunned  the  battle-field?" 
asked  Kaunitz. 

"  But  the  defeat,  count,  I  fear  the  defeat.  The  opera  is  sure  to 
fail. " 

"  No  one  knows  better  than  your  majesty  how  to  console  the  van- 
quished. Your  majesty  was  never  greater  than  when,  after  the 
defeat  of  Field-marshal  Daun,  you  went  forth  to  meet  him  with  all 
the  honors  which  you  would  have  awarded  to  a  victorious  general.* 
If  Gluck  fails  to-day,  he  will  not  be  tlie  less  a  great  artiste,  and  your 
majesty  will  sustain  him  under  his  reverses." 

The  emi^ress  laughed.  "  It  is  dangerous  to  contend  with  Kaunitz, 
for  he  slays  me  with  my  own  weapons.  And  you,  too,  my  hu.sband, 
would  have  me  abandon  Hasse  and  Metastasio,  who  are  so  pious  and 
so  good,  for  this  Gluck,  whom  I  have  never  met  inside  of  a  chvu'ch  ? 
Gluck  is  not  even  a  Christian. " 

"But  he  is  a  genius,"  cried  out  Joseph,  "and  genius  is  pleasing 
in  the  sight  of  God.  Metastasio  and  Hasse  are  old,  and  having  noth- 
ing better  to  do,  they  go  to  church.  If  they  were  young,  your 
majesty  would  not  meet  them  so  often,  I  fancy. " 

The  face  of  the  empress  grew  scarlet  while  the  archduke  poured 
fortli  these  thoughtless  words ;  and  all  present  felt  that  Gluck  and 
his  cause  were  lost. 

But  Isabella  came  to  the  rescue.  Approaching  the  empress  and 
kissing  her  hand,  she  said :  "  Your  majesty  has  been  so  good  as  to 
say  that  to-day  you  would  refuse  me  nothing.  I  have  two  requests 
to  make.     May  I  speak?" 

"Yes,  dear  child,  you  may,  "replied  the  empi-ess,  already  appeased 
by  the  gentle  voice  of  lier  beloved  daughter- in-law.  "  I  know  so  well 
that  you  will  ask  nothing  unseemly  that  I  do  not  fear  to  grant  your 
requests.     Wliat  ai"e  they  ?" 

"  First,  your  majesty,  I  beg  that  my  husband  and  I  be  permitted 
to  attend  the  mass  that  is  to  be  celebrated  in  your  private  cliapel, 
that  by  your  side  we  may  beg  of  God  to  give  peace  to  Austria,  and 
to  bless  us,  your  majesty's  own  family,  with  unity  and  love  among 
ourselves.     Will  you  permit  this?" 

Tlie  empress,  in  her  animated  way,  drew  the  archduchess  toward 
her,  and  kissed  her  tenderly. 

*  After  the  battle  of  Torgau,  which  Daun  lost. 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE.  79 

"  You  are  an  angel,  Isabella, "  said  she,  "  and  discord  ceases  at  the 
very  sound  of  your  voice.  Yes,  dearest  child,  you  shall  come  with 
Joseph  ;  and  side  by  side  we  will  pray  for  peace  and  family  concord. 
For  the  second  boon,  I  guess  it.  Is  it  not  that  I  grant  your  hus- 
band's petition?" 

Isabella,  smiling,  bowed  her  head,  and  the  empress  turned  toward 
the  emperor. 

"Well,  your  majesty,"  continued  she,  "since  my  presence  is  in- 
dispensable, I  bow  to  your  superior  judgment  in  art,  and  the  court 
must  attend  the  opera  to-night.  Are  you  satisfied,  my  son  V"  asked 
she  of  the  archduke.  "  Are  you  satisfied  now  that  I  have  sacrificed 
my  prejudices  to  give  you  pleasure?  And  on  some  future  occasion 
will  you  do  as  much  for  me,  should  I  require  it?" 

"With  shame  I  shall  remember  your  majesty's  goodness  in  par- 
doning my  ungracious  behavior  to-day, "  replied  the  archduke,  fer- 
vently pressing  his  mother's  hands  to  his  lips. 

"  I  not  only  forgive  but  forget  it,  my  son, "  said  Maria  Theresa, 
with  one  of  her  enchanting  smiles  ;  "this  is  a  day  of  rejoicing,  and 
no  clouds  shall  darken  our  happiness.  Let  us  now  retire  to  the  chapel, 
for,  believe  me,  dear  son,  it  is  not  well  to  forget  our  heavenly  Father 
until  age  forces  us  to  remember  our  dependence.  A  great  and  brill- 
iant destiny  is  before  you,  Jo.seph,  and  much  you  need  help  from 
Heaven.  Watch  and  pray  while  you  are  young,  that  you  may  call 
down  the  blessing  of  God  upon  your  career. " 


CHAPTER    XX. 

ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE. 

On  that  night,  all  Vienna  sped  to  the  Imperial  Opera-house.  Not 
lords  and  ladies  alone,  but  commoners  and  artisans  with  their  wives, 
thronged  to  hear  the  wonderful  music  which  for  three  weeks  had 
divided  the  Viennese  into  two  bitter  factions.  On  one  side  stood 
Metastasio,  the  venerable  court-poet,  whose  laurels  dated  from  the 
reign  of  the  empress's  father.  Linked  with  his  fame  was  that  of 
Hasse,  who  for  forty  years  had  been  called  "  II  caro  Sassone. "  Hasse, 
who  had  composed  so  many  operas,  was  often  heard  to  say,  that, 
when  it  came  upon  him  unawares,  he  did  not  know  his  own  music. 

All  Italy  had  declared  for  Hasse  and  Metastasio,  and  in  scornful 
security  the  Italians  had  predicted  the  discomfiture  of  the  new  school 
of  music. 

On  the  other  hand  were  Gluck  and  his  friend  Calzabigi,  whose 
partisans  disdained  the  old  style,  and  lauded  the  new  one  to  the 
skies.  Gluck  was  perfectly  indifferent  to  all  this  strife  of  party. 
Not  once,  since  the  first  day  of  rehearsal,  had  his  countenance  lost 
its  expression  of  calm  and  lofty  security.  Resolved  to  conquer,  he 
receded  before  no  obstacle.  In  vain  had  the  prima  donna,  the  re- 
nowned Gabrielle,  complained  of  hoarseness  ;  Gluck  blandly  excused 
her,  and  volunteered  to  send  for  her  rival,  Tibaldi,  to  take  the  role 
of  Eurydice.  This  threat  cured  the  hoarseness,  and  Gabrielle  at- 
tended the  rehearsals  punctually.  In  vain  had  Guadagni  attempted, 
by  a  few  fioritures,  to  give  an  Italian  turn  to  the  severe  simplicity 


80  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

of  Orpheus 's  air.  At  the  least  deviation  from  his  text,  Gluck,  with 
a  frown,  would  recall  the  ambitious  tenor,  and  do  away  with  his 
embellishments.  In  vain  had  the  chorus-singers  complained  of  the 
impossibility  of  learning  their  i^arts.  Gluck  instructed  them  one 
by  one.  He  had  trained  the  orchestra,  too,  to  fullest  precision  ;  and 
finally,  every  difficulty  overcome,  the  great  opera  of  "  Orpheus  and 
Euiydice  "  was  ready  for  representation  on  the  birthday  of  the  Arch- 
duchess Isabella. 

Shortly  before  the  hour  of  performance,  Gluck  entered  his  draw- 
ing-room in  a  rich  court-dress,  his  coat  covered  with  decorations. 
His  wife  met  him,  elegantly  attired,  and  sparkling  with  diamonds. 

She  held  ovit  her  hand,  and  smiled  a  happy  smile. 

"Look  at  me,  my  hero, "said  she.  "I  have  arrayed  myself  in 
my  wedding- jewels.  I  feel  to-night  as  I  did  on  the  day  when  v/e 
plighted  our  faith  to  one  a,nother  before  the  altar.  Then,  dear 
Christopher,  our  hearts  were  united ;  to-day — our  souls.  Is  it  not 
so?    And  are  we  not  one  in  spirit?" 

"Yes,  dearest,  yes,"  replied  Gluck,  folding  her  in  his  arms, 
"never  have  I  so  prized  and  loved  you  as  in  these  later  days  of  strife 
and  struggle.  Well  do  I  feel  what  a  blessing  to  man  is  a  noble 
woman  !  Often  during  our  rehearsals,  when  I  have  encountered  the 
supercilious  glances  of  performers  and  orchestra,  the  thought  of 
your  dear  self  has  given  me  strength  to  confront  and  defy  their 
scorn.  And  when,  weary  in  mind  and  body,  I  have  fovmd  my  way 
home,  the  touch  of  your  hand  lias  refreshed  and  cooled  the  fever  in 
my  heart.  And  often  when  others  have  pronounced  my  music  worth- 
less, I  might  have  despaired,  but  for  the  remembrance  of  your  emo- 
tion. I  thought  of  your  tears  and  of  your  rapture,  and  hope  revived 
in  my  sick  heart.  Your  applause,  dear  wife,  has  sustained  me  to 
the  end. " 

"No,  dear  Christopher,"  replied  Marianne,  "not  my  applause, 
but  the  might  of  your  own  inspiration.  That  which  is  truly  great 
must  sooner  or  later  prevail  over  mediocrity. " 

"  The  world  is  not  so  appreciative  as  you  fancy,  Marianne  !  Else 
had  Socrates  not  drunk  of  the  poisoned  beaker,  nor  Christ,  our  Lord, 
been  crucified.  Mediocrity  is  popular,  because  it  has  the  sympathy 
of  the  masses.  Not  only  does  it  come  within  their  comprehension, 
but  it  is  accommodating ; — it  does  not  wound  their  littleness.  I 
know,  dear  wife,  that  my  opera  is  a  veritable  work  of  art,  and  there- 
fore do  I  tremble  tliat  its  verdict  is  in  the  hands  of  mediocrity.  Poor 
Marianne  !  You  liave  arrayed  yourself  for  a  bridal,  and  it  may  liap- 
pen  that  we  go  to  the  funeral  of  my  masterpiece. " 

"Well,  even  so,"  replied  the  spirited  wife,  "I  shall  not  have 
decked  myself  in  vain  ;  I  shall  die  like  tlie  Indian  widow,  upon  tlie 
funeral  pile  of  my  dear  husband's  greatness.  I  will  both  live  and 
die  with  you,  maeMro;  wh(>ther  you  are  apotheosized  or  stoned,  your 
worth  can  neither  be  magnified  nor  lessened  by  the  world.  My  faith 
in  }-our  genius  is  independent  of  public  opinion  ;  and  wlietlier  you 
conquer  or  die,  your  opera  nuist  live." 

"How  I  wish,"  said  Gluck  thoughtfully,  "that  from  above,  I 
might  look  down  a  hundred  years  lienco  and  see  whether  indeed  my 
works  will  liavo  value  on  earth,  or  be  thrown  aside  as  antif(uated 
trumpery  !  But  it  is  useless — an  impenetrable  cloud  covers  the  future, 
and  we  nuist  e'en  content  ourselves  witli  the  verdict  of  the  day. 
Let  me  be  strong  to  meet  it ! — Com«;,  Marianne,  the  carriage  is  com 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE.  81 

ing  to  the  door,  and  we  must  go.     But  is  all  this  splendor  to  be  hid- 
den behind  the  lattice- work  of  my  little  stage-box V" 

"Oh,  no,  Christopher,"  said  his  wife  gayly  ;  "on  such  a  night  as 
this,  I  have  taken  another  box  ;  from  whence  I  can  be  a  happy  wit- 
ness of  my  husband's  ti'iumph. " 

"What  intrepid  confidence  the  woman  possesses!"  exclaimed 
Gluck,  catching  his  wife's  gayety.  "  But  how  will  my  brave  cham- 
pion feel,  if  she  has  to  see  as  well  as  hear  the  hisses  that  may  possi- 
bly greet  us  to-night?" 

"I  shall  feel  heartily  ashamed  of  the  audience,  "replied  Marianne, 
"  and  shall  take  no  pains  to  conceal  my  contempt. " 

"We  shall  see,"  answered  Gluck,  handing  her  to  the  carriage, 
and  following  her  with  a  merry  laugh.     "  Now,  forward  !" 

Within  the  theatre  all  was  commotion.  On  one  side,  the  parti- 
sans from  the  old  school,  who,  from  prejudice  or  custom,  adhered  to 
Hasse  and  Metastasio,  predicted  failure.  This  party  was  composed 
of  Italians,  and  of  all  tliose  who  had  "  gone  out "  with  old  Austria. 
New  Austria,  on  the  other  hand,  with  all  the  young  dilettante  of 
Vienna,  were  resolved  to  sustain  Gluck,  and,  if  possible,  secure  to 
his  new  opera  an  unprecedented  triumph.  The  excitement  reached 
even  those  boxes  where  sat  the  elite  of  the  Viennese  nobility.  Even 
their  voices  were  to  be  heard  discussing  the  merits  or  demerits  of  the 
musical  apple  of  discord.  The  Gluckites  related  that  Guadagni, 
who,  at  first,  had  been  strongly  prejudiced  against  the  opera,  had 
finally  been  moved  to  tears  by  its  exquisite  harmony,  and  had  said 
to  Gluck  that  he  was  learning  for  the  first  time  to  what  heights  of 
beauty  music  might  soar.  The  Hasseites  replied  that  the  opera  was 
none  the  less  tedious  for  Guadagni 's  word.  Moreover,  if  Hasse  and 
Metastasio  had  not  openly  condemned  Gluck's  musical  innovations, 
it  was  because  they  were  both  satisfied  that  the  opera  would  damn 
itself,  and  they  were  present  to  witness  the  discomfiture  of  its  com- 
poser. * 

Suddenly  there  was  a  hush  in  the  theatre.  The  attention  of  the 
disputants  was  directed  toward  a  small  box,  in  the  fii'st  tier,  the  door 
of  which  had  opened  to  give  entrance  to  two  persons.  One  was  an 
old  man  with  silver-white  hair,  which  flowed  in  ringlets  on  either 
side  of  his  pale  and  delicate  face.  His  thin  lips  were  parted  with 
an  afl'able  smile,  and  the  glance  of  his  small  dark  eyes  was  mild,  be- 
nevolent, and  in  keeping  with  the  rest  of  his  countenance.  His  small, 
bent  figure  was  clothed  in  the  cassock  of  an  ahbe,  but  the  simplicity 
of  his  costume  was  heightened  by  the  order  of  Theresa  which,  at- 
tached to  a  silk  ribbon,  hung  around  his  neck. 

The  other  was  a  tall,  gaunt  man,  in  the  dress  of  court  maestro  de 
capello.  His  lean  face  was  proud  and  seriovis,  his  large  mouth  wore 
an  expression  of  scorn,  and  his  full-orbed,  light-blue  eyes  had  a  glance 
of  power  which  accorded  well  with  his  lofty  stature.  The  two  ad- 
vanced arm  in  arm  toward  the  railing,  and,  at  their  appearance,  a 
storm  of  applause  arose  from  the  jjarterre,  while  the  partisans  of  the 
Italian  school  cried  :  "  Long  live  Hasse  !     Long  live  Metastasio  !" 

They  bowed,  and  took  their  seats.  While  this  was  transpiring, 
the  wife  of  Gluck  entered  her  box.  With  a  quiet  smile  she  listened 
to  the  shouts  that  greeted  her  husband's  rivals. 

"He,  too,"  thought  she,  "will  have  his  greeting  and  his  tri- 
umph. " 

*  Anton  Schmid,  "Ritter  von  Gluck,"  page  92. 


82  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

She  was  not  mistaken.  No  sooner  had  Gluck  appeared  in  the 
orchestra,  than,  fi"oni  boxes  as  well  as  parterre,  a  thousand  voices 
pealed  forth  his  welcome :  "  Long  live  Gluck !  long  live  the  great 
maestro  !  " 

Gluck  bowed  gracefully,  while  Marianne,  happy  but  tranquil, 
unfolded  her  jewelled  fan,  and  leaned  back  in  supreme  satisfaction. 
Metastasio  whispered  something  to  Hasse,  who  nodded  his  head, 
and  then  began  to  run  his  fingers  through  the  masses  of  his  bushy, 
gray  hair. 

Suddenly  were  heard  these  words  :  "  Her  majesty  the  empress,  and 
the  imperial  court !" 

Hushed  now  was  every  sound.  Every  eye  was  turned  toward  the 
box  surmounted  by  the  double-headed  eagle  of  Austria.  The  mar- 
shal of  the  household  appeared  with  his  golden  wand,  the  doors  of 
the  box  flew  asunder,  the  audience  rose,  and  the  empress,  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  the  emperor,  entered  her  box.  Magnificently  dressed, 
and  sparkling  with  diamonds,  her  transcendent  beauty  seemed  still 
more  to  dazzle  the  eyes  of  her  enraptured  subjects.  She  was  followed 
by  the  archduke,  who,  in  conversation  with  his  wife,  seemed 
scarcely  to  heed  the  greetings  of  his  future  subjects.  Behind  them 
came  a  bevy  of  princes  and  princesses,  all  of  whom,  including  little 
Marie  Antoinette  and  Maximilian,  the  two  youngest,  had  been  per- 
mitted to  accompany  the  imperial  party.  It  was  a  family  festival, 
and  Maria  Theresa  chose  on  this  occasion  to  appear  before  her  people 
in  the  character  of  a  mother. 

The  empress  and  her  husband  came  forward  and  bowed.  The 
former  then  glided  gracefully  into  her  large  gilt  arm-chair,  while 
the  latter  signed  to  his  children  to  be  seated. 

This  was  the  signal  of  the  music  to  begin.  The  audience  resumed 
their  seats,  Gluck  raised  the  leader's  staff",  and  signed  to  the  mu- 
sicians. 

The  overture  began.  In  breathless  silence  the  audience  listened 
to  that  short,  earnest  overture,  wliose  horns,  trumi^ets,  and  hautboys 
seemed  to  herald  the  coming  of  kings  and  heroes. 

The  curtain  rose,  and,  in  a  funeral  hall,  Orpheus  poured  fortli 
his  grief  for  the  loss  of  his  Eurydice.  With  this  pathetic  complaint 
mingled  the  voices  of  the  cliorus  of  mourners;  then  a  solo  from 
Orpheus,  in  which  he  bewails  anew  tlie  fate  of  the  noble  woman 
wholiad  died  for  his  sake.  The  god  of  love  appears,  counselling  him 
to  descend  himself  to  the  infernal  regions.  Orpheus,  strengthened 
and  revived  by  hope,  resolves  to  tempt  the  dangerous  descent,  and 
calls  upon  his  friends  to  share  his  fate. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  act  the  curtain  fell  amid  the  profoundest 
silence.  The  Hasseites  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  even  Gluck 's 
warmest  adherents  felt  undecided  wliat  to  say  of  this  severe  Doric 
music,  which  disdained  all  the  co(j[uetries  of  art,  and  rejected  all 
superfluous  embellishment. 

"lam  glad  tliat  Metastasio  is  here,"  said  the  empress,  "for  his 
])resence  will  ])rove  to  Calzabigi  that  he  is  not  a  pensioned  dotard. 
And  wliat  thinks  my  daughter  of  the  opera?"  asked  Maria  Theresa  of 
the  infanta. 

But  wlien  she  saw  Isabella's  face,  her  lieart  grew  faint  with  fear. 
The  arcliduchess  was  ])ale  as  death,  and  her  countenance  wore  an  ex- 
pression of  grief  boi-dcring  on  despair.  Her  large,  dark  eyes,  dis- 
tended to  their  utmost,  were  fixed  upon  the  ceiling  ;  and  she  seemed 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE.  83 

as  if  she  still  heard  the  wailings  of  Orpheus  and  the  plaintive  chorus 
of  his  friends. 

Joseph  saw  nothing  of  this.  He  had  taken  a  seat  farther  back, 
and  was  chatting  gayly  with  his  little  brothers  and  sisters. 

"God  help  me!"  murmured  the,  empress;  "she  looks  as  if  she 
w^ere  dying !  Oh,  if  she  were  right  with  her  dismal  prophecy  of 
death  !  What  if  indeed  she  is  to  leave  us?  Have  mercy,  O  God  !  I 
know  that  I  love  her  too  well.  She  will  be  taken  from  me  ;  Heaven 
will  claim  from  me  this  sacrifice  !"  * 

Isabella  shuddered,  and  awakened  from  her  horrid  dream.  Her 
eyes  fell,  her  cheeks  flushed,  and  once  more  her  lips  parted  with  a 
gentle  smile.  With  a  tender  and  appealing  look,  she  turned  toward 
the  empress  and  kissed  her  hand. 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  whispered  she  ;  "the  music  has  en- 
ti'anced  and  bewildered  me.  I  was  in  another  world,  and  was  lost 
to  the  present. " 

"  The  music  pleases  you,  then  ?"  asked  the  empress. 

"Oh,  your  majesty,"  cried  Isabella,  "this  is  no  music  to  give 
pleasure  ;  it  is  the  sublimest  language  of  truth  and  love  !" 

"Then,"  said  the  empress  tenderly,  "if  you  prize  it  so  highly, 
dearest,  I  will  prove  to  you  how  dearly  I  love  you,  for  your  verdict 
and  mine  disagree.  Our  next  festive  day  will  be  that  on  which 
Joseph  is  to  be  crowned  King  of  Rome.  And  we  shall  do  homage  to 
the  taste  of  the  Queen  of  Rome  by  ordering  that  this  opera  be  re- 
peated on  the  occasion  of  her  coronation. " 

Isabella  shook  her  head.  "I  shall  not  live  long  enough  to  be 
crowned  Queen  of  Rome. "  f 

Maria  Theresa  was  about  to  murmur  a  reply,  when  the  curtain 
rose,  and  the  second  act  of  the  opera  opened. 

The  audience,  Avho  had  been  loudly  canvassing  the  music,  were 
silenced,  and  awaited  in  breathless  expectation  the  unfolding  of  the 
plot.  Soon  came  the  wonderful  scene  between  Orpheus  and  the 
furies  who  guard  the  gates  of  Avernus.  The  beseeching  tones  of 
Orpheus,  and  the  inexorable  "  No !"  of  the  furies,  made  every  lis- 
tener tremble.  Even  Hasse,  overcome  by  the  sublimity  of  the 
music,  bowed  his  head  with  the  rest ;  and  Metastasio,  enraptured 
with  the  words,  miu-nnired,  "^47i,  die  poe.sia  divina !  "  Murmurs  of 
applause  were  heard  from  every  side  of  the  theatre  ;  they  grew  with 
every  scene,  and  at  last  burst  forth  in  wild  shouts.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  audience  were  gradually  rising  to  an  appreciation  of  this  new 
and  unknown  music,  until  with  one  accord  its  matchless  beauty 
burst  upon  their  hearts  and  overpowered  them. 

When  the  curtain  fell  a  second  time,  the  applause  knew  no  bounds. 
The  Gluckites,  in  triumphant  silence,  hearkened  to  the  voices  of 
the  deeply-moved  multitude,  %vho  gave  full  vent  to  their  emotions, 
and  noisily  exchanged  the  thoughts  to  which  the  wonderful  opera 
had  given  birth. 

Marianne,  supremely  happy,  listened  enraptured,  while  wreaths 
fell  in  showers  around  the  head  of  her  beloved  husband.  The  ad- 
herents of  Hasse  and  Metastasio  no  longer  dared  to  raise  their  voices 
in  opposition  to  the  public  verdict.  In  this  state  of  excitement  the 
third  act  began.  With  increasing  delight,  the  audience  listened. 
When  Eurydice,  condemned  to  return  to  the  infernal  regions,  sang 

*The  empress's  words.    Caraccioli,  "  Life  of  .Joseph  IL,"  page  87. 
t  Isabella's  ovra  words.    Wraxall,  ii.,  page  394. 


84  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

her  plaintive  aria,  sobs  were  lieard  throughout  the  theatre,  and 
murmurs  of  applause  were  audible  during  the  whole  scene.  But 
when  Orpheus  concluded  his  passionate  aria  "'Che  faro  senza  Eury- 
diee, "  the  people  could  contain  their  enthusiasm  no  longer.  Exalted, 
carried  away,  with  beating  hearts  and  tearful  eyes,  they  cried  "'Da 
capo!'"  and  when  Guadagni,  in  compliance  with  the  call,  had  re - 
})eated  his  solo,  the  audience  shouted  out  so  often  the  name  of  Gluck, 
that  he  could  resist  his  joy  no  longer.  He  turned,  and  they  saw  his 
noble  face  scarlet  with  blushes ;  then  arose  another  storm.  Again 
and  again  the  "  vwas  "  and  the  clappings  were  renewed,  each  time 
more  frantic  than  before. 

Hasse,  tired  of  the  spectacle  of  his  rival's  triumph,  had  disap- 
peared. Metastasio,  more  magnanimous,  had  remained,  and  ap- 
plauded as  loudly  as  any.  Marianne,  to  conceal  her  tears,  had 
hidden  her  face  behind  her  open  fan ;  and  as  the  applause  of  the 
people  increased,  until  it  resembled  the  shouts  of  victory,  she 
murmured:  "I  knew  it,  I  knew  it!  The  true  and  beautiful  must 
always  prevail. " 

The  fire  of  enthusiasm  had  spread  to  the  imperial  box.  The 
emperor  had  more  than  once  been  heard  to  call  out,  "  Bravo !"  and 
Maria  Theresa  had  several  times  felt  her  eyes  grow  dim.  But  she 
brushed  away  her  tears  and  exclaimed  :  "  It  is  beautiful,  certainly  ; 
but  it  is  a  heathen  opera,  in  which  not  God  but  gods  are  invoked  !" 

Isabella  said  nothing.  She  had  held  up  before  her  face  the 
bouquet  which  her  husband  had  gathered  for  her,  that  her  tears 
might  fall  unseen  among  its  flowers.  Joseph  saw  those  tears  shin- 
ing like  dew-drops  upon  its  rose-leaves,  and,  taking  it  from  her 
hands,  he  kissed  them  away.  "  Do  not  weep,  my  Isabella, "  whis- 
pered he  tenderly  ;  "  your  tears  fall  like  a  weight  of  sorrow  upon  my 
heart.  Wipe  them  away,  beloved.  The  day  will  come  when  you 
also  shall  be  an  empress,  and  your  people  will  do  you  homage  as  I 
do  now  ;  and  then  you  will  have  it  in  your  power  to  heal  their  sor- 
rows, and  wii^e  away  their  tears  ;  and  they  will  love  and  bless  you 
as  I—" 

A  final  burst  of  applause  drowned  the  voice  of  the  archduke. 
Tlie  opera  was  at  an  end,  and  the  people  were  calling  again  for 
Gluck,  the  creator  of  the  lyric  drama. 


CHAPTER     XXI. 

"IN  THREE  YEARS,    WE  MEET  AGAIN." 

The  war  was  over.  All  Vienna  was  rejoicing  that  the  struggle 
wliicli  had  caused  so  nuicli  bloodshed  was  at  an  end,  and  that  Austria 
and  Prussia  hail  made  peace. 

Neither  of  tlu^  two  had  gained  any  thing  by  this  long  war,  except 
glorious  victories,  honorable  wounds,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  power 
and  l)ravery  of  its  enemy.  Both  had  serious  burdens  to  bear,  which, 
for  many  j'ears  to  come,  would  be  painful  remindei's  of  the  past. 
Austria,  to  cover  the  expenses  of  the  war,  had  invented  pai:>er 
money,  and  had  flooded  the  empire  with  millions  of  coupons. 
Prussia  liad  coined  base  money,  and  all  the  employes  of  the  state 
had  received    notes,    which    were  nicknamed    '' Beaniteiischeine." 


"IN  THREE  YEARS,  WE  MEET  AGAIN."  85 

After  the  war  these  notes  were  exchanged  for  this  base  currency, 
which  soon  afterward  was  withdrawn  from  circulation  as  worth- 
less. But  Prussia  had  obtained  from  Austria  full  recognition  of  her 
rights  to  Silesia,  and  she  in  return  had  pledged  herself  to  vote  for 
Joseph  as  candidate  for  the  crown  of  Rome,  and  to  supjwrt  the  pre- 
tensions of  the  empress  to  the  reversion  of  the  duchy  of  Modena. 

We  have  said  that  all  Vienna  was  rejoicing,  and  turned  out  to 
receive  the  returning  army  with  laurel  wreaths  and  oaken  boughs. 
The  people  breathed  freely  once  more ;  they  shouted  and  feasted, 
and  prepared  themselves  to  enjoy  to  their  utmost  the  blessings  of 
peace. 

But  while  the  nation  shouted  for  joy,  a  cloud  was  gathering  over 
the  imperial  palace,  and  its  black  shadow  darkened  the  faces  of  the 
once  happy  family. 

There  wanted  now  but  a  few  months  to  complete  the  third  year 
of  the  archduke's  marriage,  and  the  youug  princesses  seized  every 
opportunity  to  make  schemes  of  pleasure  for  the  joyous  anniversary. 
Isabella  viewed  these  projects  with  a  mournful  smile.  Her  counte- 
nance became  sadder  and  more  serious,  except  when  in  the  presence 
of  her  husband.  There  she  assumed  an  appearance  of  gayetj' ; 
laughing,  jesting,  and  drawing  from  her  violin  its  sweetest  sounds. 
But,  with  her  attendants,  or  in  the  company  of  the  other  members 
of  the  imperial  family,  she  was  melancholy,  and  made  her  prepara- 
tions for  death,  which  she  foretold  would  overtake  her  very  soon. 

"You  believe  this  terrible  presentiment,  my  daughter?"  said  the 
empress  to  her  one  day.  "  Will  you  indeed  forsake  us  who  love  you 
so  dearly  ?" 

"It  is  not  that  I  will,  but  that  I  must  go,"  replied  she.  "It  is 
God  who  calls  me,  and  I  must  obey. " 

"But  why  do  you  think  that  God  has  called  you?" 

Isabella  ^vas  silent  for  a  moment,  then  she  raised  her  eyes  with  a 
strange,  unspeakable  look  to  the  face  of  the  empress.  "  A  dream  has 
announced  it  to  me,"  said  she,  "a  dream  in  which  I  place  implicit 
faith." 

"A  dream?"  said  the  pious  empress  to  herself.  "It  is  true  that 
God  sometimes  speaks  to  men  in  dreams  ;  sometimes  reveals  to  us  in 
sleep  secrets  which  He  denies  to  our  waking,  earthly  eyes.  What 
was  your  dream,  love?" 

"What  I  saw?"  whispered  she,  almost  inaudibly.  "There  are 
visions  which  no  words  can  describe.  They  do  not  pass  as  pictui'es 
before  the  eye,  but  with  unquenchable  fire  they  brand  themselves 
upon  the  heart.  What  I  saw?  I  saw  a  beloved  and  dying  face,  a 
breathing  corpse.  I  lay  overwhelmed  with  grief  near  the  outstretched 
form  of  my — my — mother.  Oh,  believe  me,  the  prayer  of  despair 
has  power  over  death  itself,  and  the  cry  of  a  broken  heart  calls  back 
the  parting  soul.  I  wept,  I  implored,  I  prayed,  until  the  dim  eyes 
opened,  the  icy  lips  moved,  and  the  stiffening  corpse  arose  and 
looked  at  me,  at  me  who  knelt  in  wild  anguish  by  its  side. " 

" Horrible  !"  cried  the  empress.  "And  this  awful  dream  did  not 
awake  you  ?" 

"  No,  I  did  not  awake,  and  even  now  it  seems  to  me  that  all  these 
things  were  real.  I  saw  the  corpse  erect,  and  I  heard  the  words 
which  its  hollow  and  unearthly  voice  spoke  to  me  :  '  We  shall  meet 
again  in  three — '" 

"  Say  no  more,  say  no  more, "  said  the  pale  empress,  crossing  her- 


86  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

self.  "  Yoix  speak  with  such  an  air  of  conviction,  that  for  a  moment 
I  too  seemed  to  see  this  dreadful  dream.  When  had  you  your 
dream  ?" 

"  In  the  autumn  of  1760,  your  majesty.  " 

The  empress  said  nothing.  She  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  the  fore- 
head of  the  infanta,  and  hastily  withdrew  to  her  own  apartments. 

"I  will  pray,  I  will  pray  !"  sobbed  she.  "Perhaps  God  will  have 
mercy  upon  us. " 

She  ordered  her  private  carriage  and  drove  to  St.  Stephens, 
where,  prostrate  among  the  tombs  of  her  ancestors,  she  prayed  for 
more  than  an  hour. 

From  this  day  Maria  Theresa  became  sad  and  silent,  anxiously 
watching  the  countenance  of  Isabella,  to  see  if  it  betokened  death. 
But  weeks  passed  by,  and  the  infanta's  prophecy  began  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  delusion  only  fit  to  provoke  a  smile.  The  empress  alone 
remained  impressed  by  it.  She  still  gazed  with  sorrowing  love  at 
the  pale  and  melancholy  face  of  her  daughter-in-law. 

'■  You  have  made  a  convert  of  my  mother, "  said  the  Archduchess 
Christina  one  day  to  Isabella,  "altliough,"  added  she,  laughing, 
"you  never  looked  better  in  your  life." 

"And  you,  Christina,  you  do  not  believe?"  said  Isabella,  putting 
her  arm  around  Christina's  neck.  "You,  my  friend,  and  the  confi- 
dante of  my  sorrows,  you  would  wish  to  prolong  the  burden  of  this 
life  of  secret  wretchedness  and  dissimulation?" 

"I  believe  in  the  goodness  of  God,  and  in  the  excellence  of  your 
own  heart,  dear  Isabella.  These  three  years  once  passed  away,  as 
soon  as  you  will  have  been  convinced  that  this  prophecy  was  indeed 
nothing  but  a  dream,  your  heart  will  reopen  to  life  and  love.  A 
new  future  will  loom  up  before  you,  and  at  last  you  will  reward  the 
love  of  my  poor  brother,  not  by  noble  self-sacrifice,  but  by  veritable 
afi"ection. " 

"Would  that  you  spoke  the  truth!"  returned  Isabella  sadly. 
"  Had  my  heart  been  capable  of  loving,  I  would  have  loved  him  long 
ago — liim,.  whose  noble  and  confiding  love  is  at  once  my  pTide  and 
my  grief.  Believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  in  these  few  years  of 
married  life  I  have  suffered  terribly.  I  have  striven  with  my  sor- 
rows, I  liave  tried  to  overcome  the  past,  I  have  desired  to  live  and 
to  enjoy  life — but  in  vain.  My  heart  was  dead,  and  could  not  awake 
to  life — I  liavc  only  suffered  and  waited  for  release." 

"Gracious  Heaven  !"  cried  Christina,  immoved  by  the  confidence 
with  which  Isabella  spoke,  "  is  there  nothing  then  that  can  bind  you 
to  life?  If  you  are  cold  to  the  burning  love  of  your  husband,  are 
you  indifferent  to  yom-  child?" 

"  Uo  you  think  "that  I  will  leave  my  child?"  said  Isabella,  looking 
surprised.  "Oh,  no!  She  will  con\e  to  me  before  she  is  seven 
years  old. "  * 

"  Oh,  Isabella,  Isabella,  I  cannot  believe  that  you  will  be  taken 
from  us,"  cried  Christina,  bursting  into  tears,  and  encircling  her 
sister  with  her  arms,  as  though  she  fancied  that  they  might  shield 
her  from  the  touch  of  death.  "Stay  vvitJi  us,  darling,  we  love  you 
so  dearly  !" 

Her  voice  choked  by  emotion,  she  laid  her  head  upon  Isabella's 

♦The  infanta's  own  words.  This  interview  of  Isabella  with  Christina  Is  historic 
cal,  and  tlie  most  extraordinary  part  of  it  is,  that  the  prophecy  of  her  child's  death 
was  fulfilled. 


"IN  THREE  YEARS,  WE  MEET  AGAIN."  87 

shoulder,  and  wept  piteously.  Tlie  infanta  kissed  her,  and  whis- 
pered words  of  tenderness,  and  Christina's  sobs  died  away.  Both 
were  silent.  Together  they  stood  with  sad  hearts  and  blanched 
cheeks,  two  imperial  princesses  in  the  prime  of  youth,  beauty,  and 
worldly  station,  yet  both  bowed  down  by  grief. 

Their  lips  sliglitly  moved  in  prayer,  but  all  around  was  silent. 
Suddenly  the  silence  was  broken  by  the  deep,  full  sound  of  a  large 
clock  which  stood  on  the  mantel-piece.  Isalaella  raised  her  pale 
face,  and  listened  with  a  shudder. 

For  many  months  this  clock  had  not  struck  the  hour.  The  clock- 
maker,  who  had  been  sent  to  repair  it,  had  pronounced  the  machinery 
to  be  so  completely  destroyed,  that  it  would  have  to  be  renewed. 
Isabella  could  not  summon  resolution  to  part  with  the  clock.  It 
was  a  dear  memento  of  home,  and  of  her  mother.  She  had  there- 
fore preferred  to  keep  it,  although  it  would  never  sound  again. 

And  now  it  struck  !  Loud,  even,  and  full-toned,  it  jjealed  the 
hour,  and  its  clear,  metallic  voice  rang  sharply  through  the  room. 

Isabella  raised  her  head,  and,  pointing  to  the  clock,  said,  with  a 
shudder  :  "  Christina,  it  is  the  signal — I  am  called  !"  * 

She  drew  back,  as  if  in  fear,  while  the  clock  went  on  with  its 
relentless  strokes.  "  Come,  come,  let  us  away !"  murmured  Chris- 
tina, with  pale  and  trembling  lips. 

"  Yes,  come, "  sighed  Isabella. 

She  made  a  step,  but  her  trembling  feet  refused  to  support  her. 
She  grew  dizzy,  and  sank  down  upon  her  knees. 

Christina  uttered  a  cry,  and  would  have  flown  for  help,  but  Isa- 
bella held  her  back.  "My  end  approaches."  said  she.  "  My  senses 
fail  me.  Hear  my  last  words.  When  I  am  dead,  you  will  find  a 
letter  for  you.     Sv.-ear  that  you  will  comply  with  its  demands. " 

"  I  swear  !"  said  Christina,  solemnly. 

"  I  am  content.     Now  call  the  physician. " 

Day  after  day  of  anguish  went  by — of  such  anguish  as  the  hu- 
man heart  can  bear,  but  which  human  language  is  inadequate  to 
paint. 

Isabella  was  borne  to  her  chamber,  and  the  imperial  physician  was 
called  in.  The  empress  followed  him  to  the  bedside,  where  pale  and 
motionless  sat  Joseph,  his  eyes  riveted  upon  the  beloved  wife  who, 
for  the  first  time,  refused  to  smile  upon  him,  for  the  first  time  was 
deaf  to  his  words  of  love  and  sorrow. 

The  physician  bent  over  the  princess,  and  took  her  hand.  He 
felt  her  head,  then  her  heart,  while  the  empress,  with  folded  hands, 
stood  praying  beside  him  ;  and  Joseph,  whose  eyes  were  now-  turned 
ujion  him,  looked  into  his  face,  as  if  his  whole  soul  lay  in  one  long 
gaze  of  entreaty. 

Van  Swieten  spoke  not  a  word,  but  continued  his  examination. 
He  bade  the  weeping  attendants  uncover  the  feet  of  the  princess, 
and  bent  over  them  in  close  and  anxious  scrutiny.  As  he  raised  his 
eyes,  the  archduke  saw  that  Van  Swieten  was  very  pale. 

"Oh,  doctor,"  cried  he,  in  tones  of  agonj%  "do  not  say  that  she 
will  die !  You  have  saved  so  many  lives !  Save  my  wife,  my 
treasured  wife,  and  take  all  that  I  possess  in  the  world  beside  !" 

The  physician  replied  not,  but  went  again  to  the  head  of  the 
bed,  and  looked  intently  at  the  face  of  the  princess.  It  had  now 
turned  scarlet,  and  here  and  there  was  flecked  with  spots  of  purple. 

*  Historical.    Wraxall,  p.  387. 
7 


88  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Van  Swieten  snatched  from  Joseph  one  of  the  burning  hands  which 
he  held  clasped  within  his  own. 

"  Let  me  hold  her  dear  hands, "  said  he,  kissing  them  again  and 
again. 

The  doctor  held  up  the  little  hand  he  had  taken,  which,  first  as 
white  as  fallen  snow,  was  now  empurpled  with  disease.  He  turned 
it  over,  looked  into  the  palm,  opened  the  fingers,  and  examined 
them  closely. 

"Doctor,  in  mercy,  speak!"  said  the  agonized  husband.  "Do 
you  not  see  that  I  shall  die  before  your  eyes,  tmless  you  promise 
that  she  shall  live  !" 

The  empress  prayed  no  longer.  When  she  saw  how  Van  Swieten 
was  examining  the  fingers  of  the  archduchess,  she  uttered  a  stifled 
cry,  and  hiding  her  head  with  her  hands,  she  wept  silently.  At  the 
foot  of  the  bed  knelt  the  attendants,  all  with  their  tearful  eyes  lifted 
to  the  face  of  him  who  would  promise  life  or  pronounce  death. 

Van  Swieten  gently  laid  down  the  hand  of  his  patient,  and 
opened  her  dress  over  the  breast.  As  though  he  had  seen  enough,  he 
closed  it  quickly  and  stood  erect. 

His  eyes  were  now  fixed  upon  Joseph  with  an  expression  of  deep 
and  painful  sympathy.  "  Speak, "  said  Joseph,  with  trembling  lips, 
"  I  have  courage  to  hear. " 

"It  is  my  duty  to  speak,"  i-eplied  Van  Swieten,  "my  duty  to 
exact  of  her  majesty  and  of  your  highness  to  leave  the  room.  The 
archduchess  has  the  small-pox. " 

Maria  Theresa  sank  insensible  to  the  floor.  From  the  anteroom 
where  he  was  waiting  the  emperor  heard  the  fall,  and  hastening  at 
the  sound,  he  bore  his  wife  away. 

Joseph,  meanwhile,  sat  as  though  he  bad  been  struck  by  a  thunder- 
bolt. 

"  Arcliduke  Joseph, "  cried  Van  Swieten,  "  by  the  duty  you  owe 
to  your  country  and  your  parents  I  implore  you  to  leave  this  in- 
fected spot. " 

Joseph  raised  his  head,  and  a  smile  illumined  his  pale  face. 
"Oh,"  cried  he,  "I  am  a  happy  man  ;  I  have  had  the  small-pox  !  I 
at  least  can  remain  with  her  until  she  recovers  or  dies." 

"Yes,  but  you  will  convey  the  infection  to  your  relatives." 

"  I  will  not  leave  the  room,  doctor, "  said  Joseph  resolutely.  "  No 
inmate  of  the  palace  sliall  receive  the  infection  through  me.  I  my- 
self will  be  my  Isabella's  nurse  until — " 

He  could  speak  no  more  ;  he  covered  his  face  with  his  haiids, 
and  his  tears  fell  in  showers  over  the  pillow  of  his  unconscious 
wife. 

Van  Swieten  opposed  him  no  longer.  He  was  suffered  to  I'emain, 
nursing  the  archducliess  with  a  love  that  defied  all  fatigue. 

Of  all  tliis  Isalx'lla  was  ignorant.  Her  large,  staring  eyes  were 
fixed  ui)on  her  tender  guardian,  but  she  knew  him  not ;  she  spoke  to 
him  in  words  of  burning  tenderness,  such  as  never  before  had  fallen 
from  her  lips  ;  but  wliile  she  poured  out  her  love,  she  called  him  by 
another  name — she  called  him  Riccardo  ;  and  while  she  told  him 
that  h(^  was  dearer  to  lier  than  all  tlie  world  beside,  she  warned  him 
tohewareof  her  father.  Sometimes,  in  her  delirium,  slie  saw  a  bloody 
corpse  beside  her,  and  she  prayed  to  die  by  its  side.  Then  she  seemed 
to  listen  to  another  voice,  and  lier  little  liands  were  clasped  in  agony, 
while,  exhausted  with  the  horror  of  the  vision,  she  murmured,  "Three 


CHE  FARO  SENZA  EURYDICE.  89 

years !  three  years !  O  God,  what  martyrdom  !  In  three  years  we 
meet  again  !" 

Her  husband  heeded  not  her  wild  language,  he  listened  to  the 
music  of  her  voice.  That  voice  was  all  that  was  left  to  remind  him 
of  his  once  beautiful  Isabella ;  it  was  still  as  sweet  as  in  the  days 
when  her  beauty  had  almost  maddened  him— that  beauty  which  had 
flown  forever,  and  left  its  possessor  a  hideous  mass  of  blood  and  cor- 
ruption. 

On  the  sixth  day  of  her  illness  Isabella  recovered  from  her  de- 
lirium. She  opened  her  eyes  and  fixed  them  upon  her  husband 
with  a  look  of  calm  intelligence.  "Farewell,  Joseph!"  said  she 
softly.     "Farewell !     It  is  over  now,  and  I  die." 

"No,  no,  darling,  you  will  not  die, "  cried  he,  bursting  into  tears. 
"You  would  not  leave  me,  beloved,  you  will  live  to  bless  me  again." 

"  Do  not  sorrow  for  me, "  said  she.  "  Forgive  and  forget  me. " 
As  Joseph,  overcome  by  his  emotion,  made  no  reply,  she  repeated 
lier  words  with  more  emphasis  :  "Forgive  me,  Joseph,  say  that  you 
forgive  me,  for  otherwise  I  shall  not  die  in  peace." 

"Forgive  thee!"  cried  he.  "/forgive  thee,  who  for  three  years 
Jiast  made  my  life  one  long  sunny  day  !" 

"Thou  wert  happy,  then,"  asked  she,  "happy  through  me?" 

"I  was,  I  am  happy,  if  thou  wilt  not  leave  me." 

"Then,"  sighed  the  wife,  "I  die  in  peace.  He  was  happy,  I 
have  done  my  duty,  I  have  atoned — " 

Her  head  fell  back.  A  long,  fearful  silence  ensued.  Suddenly 
a  shriek— the  sliriek  of  a  man,  was  heard.  When  the  attendants 
rushed  in,  Isabella  was  dead,  and  Joseph  had  fallen  insensible  upon 
the  body.* 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

CHE  FARO  SENZA.  EURYDICE. 

The  funeral  rites  were  ended,  and  Isabella  of  Parma  slept  in  St. 
Stephen's,  in  the  tomb  of  the  kaisers. 

Joseph  had  refused  to  attend  the  funeral.  From  the  hour  hir 
consciousness  had  returned  to  him  he  had  locked  himself  within  his 
apartments,  and  night  and  day  he  was  heard  pacing  the  floor  with 
dull  aud  measured  tread.  Not  even  the  empress,  who  had  stood  im- 
ploring at  the  door,  could  obtain  a  word  in  answer  to  her  entreaties. 
For  two  days  and  nights  he  remained  within.  On  the  third  day  the 
emperor  knocked  at  the  door,  and  announced  to  his  son  that  all  was 
now  ready  for  the  funeral,  and  his  presence  was  indispensable. 

Joseph  opened  the  door,  and.  without  a  word,  leaned  upon  his 
father's  arm,  and  traversed  the  long  suite  of  apartments  hung  in 
black,  until  they  reached  the  room  where  lay  the  body  of  his  wife. 
There,  amid  burning  wax-lights,  was  the  hideous  coffin  that  enclosed 

*  This  extraordinary  account  of  the  life  and  death  of  the  infanta.  Isabella  of 
Parma,  is  no  romance:  it  rests  upon  facts  which  are  mentioned  bv  historians  of 
the  reign  of  Maria  Theresa.  Caroline  Pichler,  whose  mother  was  "tire- woman  to 
the  empress  when  tlie  archduchess  died,  relates  the  history  of  tlie  prophecy,  wherein 
Isabella,  first  in  three  hours,  then  in  as  many  days,  weeks,  months,  and  years, 
awaited  her  death.  She  also  relates  the  fact  of  her  death  at  the  expiration  of  three 
years,  "in  the  arms  of  her  despairing  husband."  Caroline  Pichler,  "Memoirs  of 
My  Life." 


90  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

his  beloved  one,  and  was  about  to  bear  away  forever  his  life,  his 
love,  and  his  happiness.  Wiien  he  saw  the  coffin,  a  stifled  cry  arose 
from  his  breast.  He  darted  with  oiien  arms  toward  it,  and,  bend- 
ing down,  hid  his  face  upon  the  lid. 

At  this  moment  the  doors  of  the  room  were  opened,  and  the  em- 
press entered,  attended  by  her  daughters,  all  in  deep  mourning. 
Their  faces  were  wan  with  weeping,  as  were  those  of  all  who  fol- 
lowed the  bereaved  sovereign.  Meanwhile  Joseph  neither  saw  nor 
heard  what  passed  arovmd  him.  The  ceremonies  began,  but  while 
the  priest  performed  the  funeral  rites,  the  archduke  murmured  words 
which  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  his  father  and  mother. 

IMaria  Theresa  approached  her  stricken  son.  She  kissed  his  hair, 
and  laid  her  liand  lovingly  upon  his  shoulder. 

"My  son,"  said  she,  with  quivering  lip,  "arise  and  be  a  man. 
Her  soul  is  with  God  and  with  us  ;  let  us  give  her  body  to  the  earth 
that  bore  it." 

While  the  empress  spoke,  the  bells  of  the  churches  began  to  toll, 
and  from  the  streets  were  heard  the  beating  of  muffled  drums,  and 
tlie  booming  of  the  cannon  that  announced  to  Vienna  the  moving 
of  the  funeral  procession. 

"Come,  my  son,  come,"  repeated  the  empress.  "Our  time  of 
trial  is  at  hand." 

Joseph  raised  his  head  from  the  coffin,  and  stared  wildly  around. 
He  saw  the  priests,  the  acolytes  with  their  smoking  censers,  the 
weeping  attendants  of  his  wife ;  he  saw  the  black  hangings,  the 
groups  of  mourners,  and  his  father  and  mother  standing  pale  and 
sad  beside  him  ;  he  heard  the  tolling  of  the  bells  and  the  dull  sound 
of  the  funeral  drum  ;  and  now,  now  indeed  he  felt  the  awful  reality 
of  his  bereavement,  and  knew  that  as  yet  he  had  sufi'ered  nothing. 
Tears  filled  his  eyes,  and  he  sank  upon  his  fathers  breast. 

Sobs  and  wailings  filled  the  funeral  hall,  while  without  the  in- 
exorable knell  went  on,  the  drums  still  beat,  the  cannon  roared,  all 
calling  for  the  coftin,  for  whose  entrance  the  imperial  vault  lay  open. 

Once  more  Joseph  approached  this  dreadful  coffin.  He  kissed  it, 
and  taking  from  it  one  of  the  roses  with  which  it  had  been  decked, 
he  said,  "Farewell,  my  wife,  my  treasure;  farewell,  my  adored 
Isabella !"  Then  turning  toward  the  empress,  he  added,  "  Thank 
you,  dearest  mother,  for  tlie  courage  whicli  bears  you  througli  this 
bitter  trial ;  for  me,  I  cannot  follow  you.  Greet  my  ancestors  and 
say  to  them  that  never  came  a  nobler  victim  to  the  grave  than  the 
one  which  you  bear  thither  to-day." 

"You  will  not  go  with  us  !"  said  the  empress,  astounded. 

"No,  mother,  no.  Mingle  dust  with  dust,  but  do  not  ask  me  to 
look  into  my  Isabella's  grave." 

He  turued,  and  without  a  word  or  another  look  at  the  coffin,  he 
left  the  room. 

"  Let  him  go,"  whispered  the  emperor.  "I  believe  that  it  would 
kill  him  to  witness  tli(>  funeral  ceremony." 

The  empress  gave  a  sign,  and  the  corteije  moved  with  the  coffin 
to  the  catafalque,  which,  drawn  by  twelve  black  horses,  awaited  the 
body  in  front  of  the  palace. 

Joseph  once  more  retreated  to  his  room,  and  there,  through  the 
stillness  of  the  deserted  palace,  might  b(^  heard  his  ceaseless  tramp, 
that  sounded  as  though  it  might  bo  tlie  hammer  that  was  fashioning 
another  cofiin  to  break  the  hearts  of  the  imperial  family.     At  least 


CHE  FARO  SENZA  EUEYDICE.  91 

it  seemed  so  to  the  soiTowing  empress,  who  listened  to  the  dull 
sound  of  her  son's  footsteps  with  superstitious  fear.  She  had  gone 
to  him,  on  her  return  from  the  funeral,  to  console  him  with  her 
love  and  sympathy.  But  the  door  was  locked,  and  her  affectionate 
entreaties  for  admission  were  unanswered. 

She  turned  to  the  emperor.  "Something  must  be  done  to  bend 
the  obstinacy  of  this  solitary  grief,  "  said  she  anxiously.  "  I  know 
Joseph.  His  is  a  passionate  and  obdurate  nature,  strong  in  love  as 
iu  hate.  He  had  yielded  his  whole  soul  to  his  wife,  and  now,  alas  ! 
I  fear  that  she  will  draw  him  with  her  to  the  grave.  Wliat  shall  we 
do,  Franz,  to  comfort  him?  How  shall  we  entice  him  from  this 
odious  room,  which  lie  paces  like  a  lion  in  his  cage?" 

"  Go  once  more  and  command  him  to  open  the  door.  He  will  not 
have  the  courage  to  defy  you, "  said  the  emperor. 

Maria  Theresa  knocked  again,  and  cried  out,  "  My  son  Joseph,  I 
command  you,  as  your  sovereign  and  mother,  to  open  the  door." 

No  answer.     Still  the  same  dull,  everlasting  tread. 

The  empress  stood  awhile  to  listen  ;  then,  flushing  with  anger, 
she  exclaimed,  "It  is  in  vain.  We  have  lost  all  control  over  him. 
His  sorrow  has  made  him  cruel  and  rebellious,  even  toward  his 
mother. " 

"But  tills  is  unmanly,"  cried  the  emperor  with  displeasure.  "It 
is  a  miserable  weakness  to  sink  so  helpless  under  grief. " 

"Think  you  so?"  said  the  empress,  ready  to  vent  upon  the  em- 
peror her  vexation  at  the  conduct  of  her  son.  "  In  your  pride  of 
manhood  you  deem  it  weak  that  Josepli  grieves  for  his  wife.  I  dare 
say  that  were  5'our  majesty  placed  in  similar  circumstances,  you 
would  know  full  well  how  to  bear  my  loss  like  a  man.  But  your 
majesty  must  remember  that  Joseph  has  not  your  wisdom  and  ex- 
jjerience.  He  is  but  a  poor,  artless  youth,  who  has  been  weak 
enough  to  love  his  wife  without  stint.  This  is  a  fault  for  which  I 
crave  the  emperor's  indulgence." 

"Oh,  your  majesty, "  replied  the  emperor,  smiling,  "God  forbid 
that  he  should  ever  grow  less  affectionate  !  I  was  only  vexed  that 
the  voice  of  Maria  Theresa  should  have  less  power  over  my  son  than 
it  has  over  his  father ;  that  silvery  voice  which  bewitched  me  in 
youth,  and  througli  life  has  soothed  my  every  pang. " 

The  empress,  completely  softened,  reached  out  her  hand. 

"Would  you,  indeed,  movu-n  for  me,  Franz?"  said  she  tenderly. 
"  Would  you  refuse  to  listen  to  father  or  mother  for  my  sake  ?  Yes, 
dearest,  you  would,  I  believe.  From  our  childhood  we  were  lovers, 
we  will  be  lovers  in  our  old  age,  and  when  we  part  the  one  that  ia 
left  will  mourn  as  deeply  as  Joseph.  Let  us,  then,  be  lenient  with 
his  grief,  until  our  love  and  forbearance  shall  have  won  him  to 
come  and  weep  upon  his  mother's  breast." 

"  If  your  majesty  permit, "  said  Christina,  stepping  forward,  "  I 
will  try  to  soften  his  grief." 

"  What  can  you  do,  dear  child?"  asked  the  empress  of  her  favorite 
daughter. 

"I  have  a  message  for  him,"  replied  Christina.  "I  swore  to 
Isabella  that  no  one  but  myself  should  reveal  it  to  Joseph.  I  know 
that  it  will  prove  consolatory,  and  Isabella  also  knew  it.  For  this 
reason  she  intrusted  it  to  me." 

"Try,  then,  my  daughter,  try  if  your  voice  will  have  more  power 
than  mine.     Meanwhile  I  will  essay  the  power  of  music.     It  over- 


92  ^  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

came  him  once  when  he  was  a  boy.     We   will  try  him  with  the 
music  that  Isabella  loved  best. " 

She  called  a  page  and  spoke  with  him  in  a  low  voice.  In  con- 
clusion she  said,  "Let  the  carriage  go  at  once  and  bring  him  hither 
in  a  quarter  of  an  hour. " 

The  page  withdrew,  and  the  imperial  family  were  again  alone. 

"  Now,  my  daughter, "  said  the  empress,  "  see  if  he  will  speak  to 
you. " 

Christina  approached  the  door.  "  My  brother  Joseph, "  said  she, 
"  I  beseech  you  open  the  door  to  me.  I  come  from  Isabella  ;  it  is  she 
who  sends  me  to  you. " 

The  bolt  was  withdrawn,  and  for  a  moment  the  pale  face  of 
Joseph  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in, "  said  he,  waving  his  hand  to  Christina.  She  followed 
him  into  the  room  where  so  many,  many  tears  had  been  shed. 
"Now  speak, "  said  he,  "  what  did  Isabella  say  to  you?" 

His  sister  looked  with  pity  upon  his  ghastly  face  and  those  hol- 
low eyes  grown  glassy  with  weeping.  "  Poor,  poor  Joseph  !"  said 
she  softly,  "'  I  see  that  your  love  for  her  was  beyond  all  bounds. " 

He  made  a  motion  of  impatience.  "Do  not  pity  me, "  said  he. 
"  My  grief  is  too  sacred  for  sympathy.  I  do  not  need  it.  Tell  me  at 
once,  what  said  Isabella?" 

Christina  hesitated.  She  felt  as  if  the  balm  she  was  about  to 
bring  would  prove  more  painful  than  the  wounds  it  was  intended 
to  heal. 

"Speak,  I  tell  you,"  cried  Joseph  angrily.  "If  you  have  made 
use  of  Isabella's  name  to  gain  access  to  my  presence,  it  is  a  trick  for 
which  I  will  never  forgive  you.  Why  did  you  disturb  me?  I  was 
with  her, "  continued  he,  staring  at  the  divan  where  so  often  they 
had  sat  together.  "  She  wore  her  white  dress  and  the  pink  roses, 
and  she  smiled  with  her  enchanting  smile.  I  lay  at  her  feet,  I 
looked  into  her  eyes,  I  heard  the  melody  of  her  voice. " 

"Did  she  ever  say  that  she  loved  you?"  asked  Christina. 

He  looked  at  her  intently  and  grew  thoughtful.  "  I  do  not  know, " 
said  he  after  a  pause,  "  whether  she  ever  told  me  so  in  words.  But 
there  needed  no  words.  I  saw  her  love  in  every  glance,  in  every 
smile.     Her  whole  life  was  love,  and  oh  !  I  have  lost  it  forever  !" 

"You  have  not  lost  it,  for  you  never  possessed  it, "  said  Christina. 

Joseph  drew  back  and  frowned.     "  What  is  that?"  said  he  hastily. 

Christina  approached  him,  and  laying  her  hand  upon  his  shoul- 
der, she  looked  into  his  face  until  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"I  say,"  whispered  she  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "do  not  mourn  any 
longer,  dear  brother.  For  she  for  whom  you  grieve,  she  whom  you 
call  your  Isabella,  never  loved  you. " 

"That  is  not  true,"  cried  Joseph  vehemently.  "It  is  a  lie,  a 
wicked  lie  that  you  have  devised  to  lessen  my  grief. " 

"It  is  nothing  but  the  ti'uth,  and  I  promised  Isabella  to  tell  it  to 
you." 

Joseph  sank  almo.st  insensible  upon  the  divan.  Christina  seated 
herself  near  him,  and  throwing  her  arms  around  him,  sobbed,  "  My 
brother,  my  darling  brother,  think  no  more  of  the  dead,  but  turn 
your  heart  toward  us  ;  for  we  love  j'ou,  and  Isabella  never  did.  She 
merely  endured  your  love. " 

"Endured  my  love!"  murmured  Joseph,  and  his  head  sank 
powerless  upon  Christina's  bosom.     But  suddenly  he  rose,  and  look- 


CHE  FARO  SENZA  EURYDICE.  93 

ing  with  a  beseeching  expression  at  his  sister's  beautiful  face,  he 
said  : 

"Bethink  you,  Christina,  of  what  you  do.  Think  that  I  love 
Isabella  with  all  the  strength  and  glow  of  my  heart ;  think  that  for 
me  she  was  the  embodiment  of  all  beauty,  goodness,  and  purity. 
Do  not  seek  to  comfort  me  by  destroying  my  faith  in  the  truth  of 
the  only  woman  I  have  ever  loved.  In  whom  shall  I  have  faith,  if 
not  in  her?  If  her  love  was  a  lie,  is  there  love  in  this  world?  Oh, 
Christina,  in  mercy  say  that  you  have  sought  to  comfort  by  deceiv- 
ing me !" 

"  I  have  sought  to  comfort  you,  by  telling  you  the  truth.  If  you 
will  not  believe  me,  believe  her  own  words. " 

She  drew  a  paper  from  her  dress  and  handed  it  to  Joseph.  "It 
is  a  letter, "  said  she,  "  which  Isabella  gave  me,  and  she  naade  me 
swear  that  I  would  fulfil  its  behests.     Read,  and  be  satisfied. " 

Joseph  unfolded  the  letter.  "  It  is  her  handwriting, "  said  he  to 
himself,  and  he  tried  to  read  it  but  in  vain ;  his  hand  trembled, 
and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

He  gave  it  back  to  Christina,  who  read  it  aloud  : 

"  My  Christina — confidant  of  my  sufferings  and  sorrow — hear  my 
dying  request.  To  jou  I  leave  the  task  of  consoling  my  husband. 
His  noble  tears  shall  not  be  shed  over  the  grave  of  one  who  is  un- 
worthy of  them.  Tell  him  the  truth,  tell  him  all  you  know,  show 
him  this  letter,  and  bid  him  not  grieve  for  one  who  never  loved  him. 
Do  this  for  me,  it  is  my  last  request.  Isabella.  " 

Suddenly,  from  the  adjoining  room,  the  sweet  tones  of  music 
were  heard  ;  the  air  was  tremulous  with  melody,  which  at  first  soft 
and  low,  swelled  louder  and  louder  until  it  filled  the  room  with  a 
gush  of  harmony  that  stirred  the  hearts  of  those  who  listened  with 
sweetest  and  holiest  emotions. 

Joseph  bent  eagerlj-  forward.  He  knew  those  strains  so  well! 
He  remembered  the  night  when  Isabella's  tears  had  fallen  among 
the  rose-leaves,  and  he  had  kissed  them  away.  He  saw  her  once 
more  in  the  pride  of  her  beauty,  looking  at  him  from  the  depths  of 
those  glorious  dark  eyes  which  he  had  so  madly  loved.  The  music 
gave  life  and  being  to  these  memories,  and  its  glamour  brought  back 
the  dead  from  her  grave  !  He  remembered  how  he  had  asked  her 
if  she  loved  him,  and  how,  avoiding  the  words  so  difficult  to  speak, 
she  had  answered  with  the  witching  tones  of  her  violin.  Oh,  that 
heavenly  evening  hour  upon  the  balcony  !  She  had  said,  "Love  has 
its  own  language :  come  and  listen."  And  Christina  said  she  had 
not  lotted !    He  could  not,  would  not  believe  her  ! 

He  took  the  letter  from  Christina's  hand  and  kissed  the  paper. 
"I  do  not  believe  yovi, "  he  said  softly.  "My  trust  in  her  is  like 
my  soi'row — for  eternity  !" 

This  imperturbable  faith  had  the  effect  of  hardening  Christina, 
and  making  her  cruel.  "You  shall  believe  me,"  said  she  hastily. 
"You  shall  see  in  her  own  handwriting  that  she  loved  another." 

"  Another  !  "  cried  the  wretched  husband.     "  I  will  kill  him  !" 

"He  died  before  you  ever  knew  her,"  said  Christina,  frightened 
at  the  effect  of  her  own  heartlessness. 

A  smile  overspread  his  face.  "Dead,  before  I  knew  her  !  Tlien 
she  forgot  him  when  I  loved  her. "     He  took  up  the  letter  and  read 


94  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

it  again.  "Oh,"  said  he,  "see  how  magnanimous  was  my  Isabella. 
She  has  been  false  to  her  own  heart  that  she  might  save  me  from 
sorrow.  She  thought  it  would  dry  my  tears  to  think  that  she  did 
not  love  me.  Oh,  beloved,  I  see  througli  thy  noble  falsehood — in 
death  as  in  life  I  know  every  working  of  that  unselfish  heart !" 

Christina  said  nothing,  but  she  grew  more  inflexible  in  her  pur- 
pose. "  He  shall  be  convinced, "  said  she  to  herself.  "  I  will  give 
him  her  letters  to  me,  and  then  he  will  know  that  he  never  has  been 
loved." 

Again  pealed  forth  the  sounds  of  that  heavenly  music.  Now 
the  violin,  mingling  with  the  tones  of  the  harpsichord,  glide  into  a 
melody  of  divinest  beauty  ;  and  the  full,  rich  tones  of  a  woman's 
voice  warbled  the  complaint  of  Orpheus  :  "  Che  faro  senza  Eurydice !  " 

Joseph  sighed  convulsively,  and  a  faint  color  tinged  his  pale 
cheeks.  This  was  Isabella's  favorite  air  ;  and  once  more  the  vision 
started  up  before  him,  once  more  he  saw  the  tears,  he  kissed  them, 
and  looked  into  the  depths  of  those  starry  eyes  ! 

He  rose  from  the  divan,  and,  drawn  thither  by  a  power  which 
he  could  not  contend,  he  left  the  room,  and  followed  the  music  that 
was  calling  him  from  madness  back  to  reason. 

At  the  harpsichord  sat  Ritter  Gluck,  and  by  him  stood  the  Arch- 
duchess Elizabeth,  whose  rich  and  beautiful  voice  had  exorcised  the 
evil  spirit. 

The  emperor  and  empress,  with  ail  their  childi-en,  came  forward 
to  meet  the  unhappy  one,  and  all  with  tearful  eyes  kissed  and  wel- 
comed him  with  tender  words  of  love. 

Gluck  alone  seemed  not  to  have  seen  the  archduke.  He  was 
chiding  Elizabeth  for  singing  falsely,  and  called  upon  her  to  repeat 
her  song.  Nevertheless,  while  he  corrected  his  pupil,  the  big  tears 
were  coursing  one  another  down  his  cheeks,  and  fell  upon  his  hands, 
as  they  wandered  over  the  instrument,  enrajituring  every  ear. 

Elizabeth  began  again  ;  and  again  were  heard  the  heart-breaking 
tones  of  "  Che  faro  senza  Eurydice ! " 

All  eyes  turned  upon  the  bereaved  Orpheus.  The  empress  opened 
her  arms,  and  completely  subdued,  he  darted  to  his  mother's  heart, 
and  cried  out,  "  Che  faro  senza  Eurydice ! " 

Again  ajid  again  the  mother  kissed  her  weeping  son.  The  em- 
peror folded  them  both  to  his  loving  heart.  The  brothers  and  sisters 
wept  for  mingled  grief  and  joy.  Elizabeth's  voice  failed  her,  and 
she  sang  no  more.  But  Gluck  played  on,  his  hands  weaving  new 
strains  of  harmony  such  as  earth  had  never  heard  before.  His  head 
thrown  back,  liis  eyes  upturned  toward  heaven,  his  face  beaming 
with  inspiration,  he  listened  to  his  music,  while  from  Joseph's 
anguish  was  born  the  wondei-ful  song  in  Alceste,  '''' No  crudel,  no 
posso  vivere,  tu  lo  sai,  senza  de  te. " 

The  melody  went  on,  the  parents  caressed  their  child,  and  on 
his  mother's  bosom  Joseph  wept  the  last  tears  of  his  great  youthful 
sorrow.  The  dream  of  love  was  over !  Grief  had  made  of  him  a 
man. 


KING  OF   EOME. 


CHAPTER    XXIII, 

FATHER  PORHAMMER   AND  COUNT  KAUNITZ. 

The  empress  paced  her  cabinet  with  hasty  steps.  Near  the  large 
table,  covered  with  papers  of  state,  stood  Father  Porhanimer. 

"Are  you  sure  of  what  you  say?"  said  Maria  Theresa  with  impa- 
tience. "Are  you  sure  that  the  lord  chancellor  so  far  forgets  his 
honor  and  dignity  as  to  spend  his  hours  of  leisure  in  the  company  of 
disreputable  actresses?  Is  it  true  that  his  house  is  the  scene  of 
shameful  orgies  and  saturnalian  feasts?" 

"  It  is  even  so,  your  majesty, "  replied  Porhanimer.  "  It  is  un- 
happily true  that  he  whom  your  majesty  has  raised  to  the  first  place 
in  the  empire  of — " 

"The  first  place!"  echoed  the  empress  angrily.  "Know,  sir, 
that  the  first  place  in  the  empire  is  mine.  From  God  I  hold  my 
power  and  my  crown,  and  I  depute  them  to  no  man — I  alone  reign 
in  Austria. " 

"  Your  majesty, "  resumed  the  father, "  did  not  allow  me  to  finish. 
I  was  about  to  say  that  he  whom  your  majesty  has  made  your  most 
illustrious  subject,  he  who  ought  to  give  to  all  your  subjects  an  ex- 
ample of  moral  conduct,  is  a  profligate  and  libertine.  That  infamous 
school  of  Paris,  where  reigns  the  wanton  Marquise  de  Pompadour, 
the  debauched  court  of  Versailles — " 

"Hold,  father,  and  remember  that  France  is  Austria's  dearest 
ally, "  interrupted  the  empress. 

The  father  bowed.  "  The  school  of  Parisian  gallantly,  of  which 
the  lord  chancellor  is  a  graduate,  has  borne  its  fruits.  Count 
Kauuitz  mocks  at  religion,  chastity,  and  every  other  virtue.  In- 
stead of  giving  an  honorable  mistress  to  liis  house,  it  is  the  home  of 
Foliazzi,  the  singer,  who  holds  him  fast  with  her  rosy  chains." 

"We  must  send  her  away  from  Vienna." 

"Ah,  your  majesty,  if  you  send  her.  Count  Kaunitz  will  go  with 
her.  He  cannot  live  without  La  Foliazzi.  Even  when  he  comes 
hither  to  your  majesty's  august  presence,  La  Foliazzi  is  in  his 
coach,  and  she  awaits  his  return  at  the  doors  of  the  imperial  palace. " 

"Impossible  !  I  will  not  believe  such  scandalous  reports.  Count 
Kauuitz  never  would  dare  bring  his  mistresses  to  my  palace  doors  ; 
he  never  would  have  the  audacity  to  treat  his  official  visits  to  myself 
as  episodes  in  a  life  of  lasciviousness  with  an  unchaste  singer.  You 
shall  withdraw  your  words.  Father  Porhammer,  or  you  shall  prove 
them. " 

"  I  will  prove  them,  your  majesty. " 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  a  page  announced  the  lord  chan- 
cellor. Count  Kaunitz. 


96  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Admit  Count  Kaunitz,"  said  the  empress,  "and  you,  Father 
Porhamnier,  remain. " 

The  father  withdrew  within  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  while 
the  lord  chancellor  followed  the  page  into  the  presence  of  the  empress. 
The  count's  face  was  as  fair  and  his  cheeks  as  rosy  as  ever  ;  he  wore 
the  same  fantastic  peruke  of  his  own  invention,  and  his  figure  was 
as  straight  and  slender  as  it  had  ever  been.  Ten  years  had  gone  by 
since  he  became  prime  minister,  but  nothing  had  altered  Jiim.  So 
marble-like  his  face,  that  age  could  not  wrinkle,  nor  care  trace  a 
line  upon  its  stony  surface. 

He  did  not  wait  for  the  imperial  greeting,  but  came  forward  in 
his  careless,  unceremonious  way,  not  as  though  he  stood  before  his 
sovereign,  but  as  if  he  had  come  to  visit  a  lady  of  his  own  rank. 

"  Your  majesty  sees, "  said  he,  with  a  courteous  inclination  of  the 
head,  "that  I  use  the  permission  which  has  been  granted  me,  of 
seeking  an  audience  whenever  the  state  demands  it.  As  I  come, 
not  to  intrude  upon  your  majesty  with  idle  conversation,  but  to 
speak  of  grave  and  important  matters  of  state,  I  do  not  apologize 
for  coming  unbidden." 

The  easy  and  unembarrassed  manner  in  which  Kaunitz  announced 
himself  had  its  effect  uj^on  the  empress.  She  who  was  so  accus- 
tomed to  give  vent  to  the  feelings  of  the  moment,  overcame  her  dis- 
pleasure and  received  her  minister  with  her  usual  affability. 

"Your  majesty,  then,  will  grant  an  audience  to  your  minister  of 
state?"  said  Kaunitz,  looking  shar^^ly  at  the  priest  who  stood  un- 
concerned at  the  window. 

"  Since  the  lord  chancellor  comes  at  such  an  unusual  hour, "  re- 
plied the  empress,  "  I  must  conclude  that  his  business  is  of  an  im- 
perative nature.     I  am  therefore  ready  to  hear  him. " 

Kaunitz  bowed,  and  then  turning  with  an  arrogant  gesture  toward 
the  empress's  confessor,  he  said,  "Do  you  hear,  Father  Porham- 
mer?  the  empress  will  hold  a  council  with  me. " 

"  I  hear  it,  my  lord, "  said  the  priest. 

"  Then  as  we  are  not  on  the  subject  of  religion,  you  will  have  the 
goodness  to  leave  the  rooiB. " 

"  I  was  ordered  by  her  majesty  to  remain, "  replied  Father  Por- 
hamnier quietly. 

Kaunitz  tvirned  toward  the  empress,  who,  with  knit  and  angry 
brow,   was  listening  to  her  minister. 

"If  it  be  the  empress's  pleasure,"  said  he,  bowing,  "I  will  take 
the  liberty  of  retiring  until  her  majesty  is  at  leisure  for  earthly 
affairs.  Religion  and  politics  are  not  to  be  confounded  together ; 
the  former  being  the  weightier  subject  of  the  two,  I  give  way. " 

He  bowed  agaiu,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  when  the 
empress  recalled  him. 

"Stay!"  said  she.  "Father  Porhammer  will  leave  us  for  a 
while. " 

Without  a  word,  the  father  bowed  and  withdrew. 

"Now  speak.  Count  Kaimitz, "  said  the  empress,  hastily,  "and 
let  the  affair  be  important  that  has  led  you  to  drive  my  confessor, 
in  such  an  uncourteous  fashion,  from  my  presence. " 

"Weighty,  most  weighty  is  the  news  that  concerns  the  imperial 
house  of  Austria, "  said  Kaunitz,  with  his  unruffled  equanimity. 
"A  courier  has  brought  me  tidings  of  the  archduke's  election  as 
King  of  Rome. " 


FATHER  PORHAMMER  AND  COUNT  KAUNITZ.         97 

"  Is  that  all  ?"  said  Maria  Theresa.  "  That  is  no  news.  The  voice 
of  Prussia  decided  that  matter  long  ago ;  and  this  is  the  only  advan- 
tage we  have  ever  reaped  from  our  long  and  terrible  war  with 
Frederick?" 

"  No,  your  majesty,  no,  this  is  not  the  only  thing  we  have  ob- 
tained. This  war  has  yielded  us  material  advantages.  It  has  in- 
creased the  military  strength  of  the  country;  it  has  placed  before 
the  eyes  of  all  Europe  the  inexhaustible  nature  of  Austria's  re- 
sources ;  it  has  brought  all  the  little  Germanic  principalities  under 
Austria's  dominion.  It  has  united  Hungary,  Sclavonia,  Italy, 
Bohemia,  and  Lombai'dy  under  Austria's  flag  and  Austria's  field- 
marshals.  Indeed,  your  majesty,  this  war  has  given  us  something 
of  far  more  value  than  Prussia's  vote.  The  bloody  baptism  of  the 
battle-field  has  made  Austrians  of  all  those  who  bled  for  Austi'ia's 
rights. " 

"That  does  not  prevent  that  abominable  man  from  clinging  to 
my  fair  domain  of  Silesia.  How  will  my  ancestor,  the  great 
Charles,  greet  me,  when  I  go  to  my  grave,  bearing  the  tidings  that 
imder  my  reign  Austria  has  been  shorn  of  a  principality?" 

"  No  such  tidings  shall  your  majesty  bear  to  your  forefathers, " 
replied  Kaunitz,  fervently.  "  Leave  Frederick  alone  with  his  bit  of 
a  principality ;  more  trouble  than  profit  may  it  be  to  him !  Long 
before  he  will  have  transformed  his  Silesian  Austrians  into  loyal 
Prussians,  we  shall  have  repaired  the  damage  he  has  done  us  by  new 
and  richer  acquisitions. " 

"No,  no,  no!"  cried  the  empress,  "let  us  have  no  more  war. 
What  we  do  not  possess  by  just  right,  I  never  will  consent  to  win 
with  the  sword. " 

"But  inheritance  and  alliance  bestow  rights,"  persisted  the  min- 
ister. "  Your  majesty  has  marriageable  daughters  and  sons,  and  it 
is  time  to  think  of  negotiating  honorable  alliances  for  them. " 

The  eyes  of  the  empress  sparkled,  and  her  face  beamed  with 
happy  smiles.  The  establishment  of  her  children  was  her  constant 
thought  by  night  and  day,  and  in  broaching  this  subject,  Kaunitz 
was  meeting  her  dearest  wishes.  Her  displeasure  against  him 
melted  away  like  snow  before  the  sun,  and  she  gave  herself  up 
entirely  to  the  pleasing  discussion. 

"  It  will  be  difficult  to  find  husbands  for  my  daughters, "  said  she. 
"  All  the  reigning  heads  of  European  families  are  married,  and  their 
sons  are  too  young  for  Elizabeth  and  Amelia.  I  cannot  marry  my 
gi-own-up  daughters  to  boys  ;  nor  can  I  bring  a  set  of  insignificant 
sons-in-law  to  hang  about  the  court.  My  husband  the  emperor 
would  never  consent  to  bestow  his  daughters  upon  petty  princes, 
who,  instead  of  bringing  influence  with  them,  would  derive  their 
reflected  consequence  from  an  alliance  with  us.  If  we  cannot  find 
them  husbands  worthy  of  their  station,  my  daughters  must  remain 
single,  or  devote  their  lives  to  God. " 

"If  your  majesty's  eldest  daughters  choose  that  holy  vocation, 
politics  need  not  interfere  with  their  inclinations.  The  boyish 
heirs  of  European  kingdoms  can  await  the  advent  of  the  younger 
princesses. " 

"  Let  them  wait, "  said  the  empress ;  "  we  will  train  noble  queens 
for  them. " 

"But 'the  Archduke  Leopold  need  not  wait,"  said  Kaunitz  ;  "we 
will  begin  with  him.     The  Spanish  ambassador  has  received  from 


98  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

his  sovereign,  Carlos  IV. ,  a  letter  directing  him  to  offer  his  daugh- 
ter Maria  Louisa  to  your  majesty's  second  son.  Knowing  that  his 
highness  the  Archduke  Joseph  is  your  majesty's  successor,  he  sup- 
poses that  the  Emperor  Francis  will  bestow  upon  his  second  son  the 
grand  duchy  of  Tuscany. " 

"  A  very  good  alliance, "  returned  Maria  Theresa,  nodding  her 
head.  "The  women  of  tlie  house  of  Bourbon  are  all  estimable.  Our 
lost  Isabella  was  a  lovely  woman.  Well,  the  grand-daughter  of  the 
King  of  Spain  having  died,  let  us  renew  our  connection  with  him 
through  his  daughter  ;  and  may  God  grant  to  Leopold  happier  nup- 
tials than  were  those  of  my  poor  Joseph. " 

"  The  Archduke  Joseph,  too,  must  marry, "  said  Kaunitz. 

"Poor  Joseph  !"  sighed  the  empress;  "even  now  his  heart  is  full 
of  sorrow  ;  and  while  he  mourns  his  dead,  we  make  plans  to  marry 
him  to  another !  But  you  are  right,  count;  he  must  marry.  We 
cannot  listen  to  his  heart,  he  must  sacrifice  himself  to  duty.  Aus- 
tria must  have  another  heir.     But  let  us  give  him  a  little  respite. " 

"He  will  forget  his  sorrow  when  he  is  crowned  King  of  Rome," 
said  Kaunitz.  "Ambition  is  certain  to  cure  love  ;  and  the  posses- 
sion of  a  crown  may  well  console  any  man  for  the  loss  of  a  woman. " 

Maria  Theresa  was  displeased.  "Do  you  deem  it,  then,  so  light 
a  thing?"  said  she,  with  a  frown,  "to  lose  a  beloved  wife?  Do  you 
think  it  great  happiness  to  wear  a  crown?  You  know  notliing  either 
of  the  pains  of  power  or  the  joj's  of  marriage  ;  but  I  can  tell  you 
that  many  a  time  I  would  have  fainted  under  the  burden  of  my 
crown,  had  my  Franz  not  sustained  me  with  his  loving  and  beloved 
hand.  But  what  know  yovi  of  love?  Your  heart  is  a  market-place 
wherein  you  seek  slaves  for  your  harem,  but  no  honorable  woman 
would  make  it  her  home.  I  have  heard  scandalous  reports  concern- 
ing your  house.  Count  Kaunitz  ;  I  have — " 

A  light  knock  was  lieard  at  the  door,  and  as  the  empress  gave  the 
word,  Father  Porhammer  entered  the  room. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

MATRBIONIAL  PLANS. 

Father  Porhammer  came  forward,  while  the  empress  looked  at 
him  with  a  glance  of  astonishment. 

"Forgive  me,  your  majesty,  for  this  intrusion.  It  is  in  accord- 
ance with  your  gracious  commands,  whose  fulfilment  I  have  no 
right  to  delay.  I  was  ordered  by  your  majesty  to  prove  the  fact 
which  I  asserted."  ' 

"Well,  have  j-ou  the  proof  ?"  said  the  empi-ess,  impatiently. 

"  I  have,  your  majesty.  It  is  in  the  carriage  of  the  lord  chancel- 
lor, at  the  great  door  of  the  palace. " 

The  empress  made  an  exclamation  ;  and  her  face  grew  scarlet 
with  anger.  Her  stormy  looks  rested  upon  Kaunitz,  who,  perfectly 
unconcerned,  seemed  not  to  have  heard  what  Porhammer  liad  said. 
Tliis  undisturbed  serenity  on  the  part  of  h<n"  minister  gave  the  em- 
press time  for  recollection.  She  knew  from  experience  that  the 
lightning  of  her  wrath  would  play  harmlessly  about  the  head  of  this 
living  statue,  and  she  felt  more  keenly  than  she  had  ever  done  be- 


MATRIMONIAL  PLANS.  99 

fore,  that  however  Kaunitz's  private  life  might  shock  her  own 
sense  of  honor  and  decency,  his  vast  intellect  as  minister  of  state 
was  indispensable  to  Austria. 

With  a  quick  and  haughty  gesture,  she  motioned  the  priest 
away,  and  then  began  to  i^ace  up  and  down  the  length  of  the  apart- 
ment. 

Kaunitz  remained  tranquil  near  the  table,  his  cold  glances  rest- 
ing now  on  the  papers,  now  on  the  pictures  that  hvmg  opposite  to 
him.  He  was  busily  engaged  arranging  his  Alengon  ruffles,  when 
the  empress  stopped,  and  fixed  her  tiery  eyes  upon  him. 

"  Mj  lord  chancellor,  Count  Kaunitz,  tell  me  who  sits  in  your 
cai'riage  before  the  doors  of  my  palace,  awaiting  your  return  from 
this  conference?" 

"Who  sits  in  my  carriage,  j'our  majesty?  I  was  not  aware  that 
any  one  was  there  whose  name  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  announce 
to  your  imperial  majesty.  '• 

"  I  can  well  believe  that  you  would  not  dare  to  pronounce  the 
name  of  that  jierson  in  my  presence, "  cried  the  empress,  indignantly  : 
"  but  let  me  tell  you,  sir  count,  that  your  behavior  is  highly  dis- 
l^leasiug  to  me,  and  that  I  blush  to  hear  the  things  I  do,  to  the 
disparagement  of  your  honor  and  morality. " 

"Has  your  majesty  any  complaint  to  make  of  me  as  minister,  or 
as  president  of  coimcilV"  asked  Kaunitz,  almost  roughlj-.  "Havel 
not  fulfilled  the  vows  I  made  to  your  majesty  ten  years  ago?  Have 
I  discharged  my  duties  carelessly?  The  ship  of  state  which,  in  her 
liour  of  peril,  was  confided  to  my  hands,  have  I  not  steered  her 
safely  through  rocks  and  reefs?  Or,  have  I  been  unfaithful  to  my 
trust?  If  your  majesty  can  convict  me  of  crime,  or  even  of  negli- 
gence, then  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  culprit.  Tell  me  of  what 
state  oftence  am  I  accused  ?" 

"I  do  not  speak  of  my  prime  minister,"  replied  the  empress 
somewhat  embai-rassed.  "I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  hi7n.  On 
the  contrary,  he  has  nobly  kept  the  pledge  he  made  to  me  and  to  my 
Austria,  and  he  has  been  a  wise,  faithful,  and  conscientious  servant. 
But  this  is  not  enough  ;  there  are  also  duties  to  perform  toward  God, 
toward  society,  and  toward  one's  self." 

"  For  your  majesty,  as  well  as  for  me,  it  suffices  that  I  am  true  to 
my  duties  as  your  subject.  As  to  my  duty  as  a  man,  this  is  no  place 
to  discuss  a  matter  which  lies  between  God  and  myself.  It  would 
be  indecorous  for  me  to  raise  the  veil  of  my  private  life  before  the 
eyes  of  your  majesty.  I  came  here  to  speak  of  Austria's  welfare 
and  yours,  not  of  me  or  mine. " 

Without  giving  the  empress  time  to  make  any  reply,  Kaunitz 
resumed  the  subject  which  had  been  interrupted  by  the  visit  of 
Father  Porhammer. 

"Though  your  majesty  may  deem  it  expedient  to  postpone  the 
marriage  of  the  Archduke  Joseph,  still,  that  need  not  prevent  us 
from  taking  the  steps  that  will  be  necessaiy  to  secure  an  advanta- 
geous alliance  for  the  heir  to  the  throne.  We  can  grant  a  respite  to 
the  Archdvike  of  Austria,  but  the  King  of  Rome  must  stifle  his  grief, 
and  attend  to  the  calls  of  duty.  He  must  silence  his  heart,  for  the 
Emperor  of  Austria  must  have  a  successor." 

"At  least  let  us  choose  him  a  bride  worthy  to  succeed  in  his 
affections  the  angelic  wife  he  has  lost,"  said  the  empress,  with 
feeling. 


100  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

Something  like  a  smile  flitted  over  Kaunitz's  sardonic  face. 
"  Your  majesty  must  pardon  me,  but  you  view  this  matter  entirely 
too  much  as  a  thing  of  sentiment ;  whereas,  in  effect,  it  is  an  affair 
of  policy.  The  main  object  of  the  archduke's  marriage  is  to  find  a 
princess  whose  family  can  advance  the  interests  of  the  state,  and 
who  is  in  a  condition  to  bear  children. " 

"And  have  you  already  found  such  a  wife  for  my  poor  child?" 
asked  the  empress.  "  Have  you  one  to  propose  wliom  policy  will 
approve,  and  who  will  not  be  distasteful  to  the  eye  or  the  heart?" 

"She  must  be  a  German  princess,"  said  Kaunitz. 

"Why  MUST?" 

"Because  the  house  of  Hapsburg  must  court  the  good  will  of  all 
Germany,  which,  through  this  long  war  and  from  the  divided  in- 
terests of  the  German  people,  it  is  in  danger  of  losing.  Prussia, 
grown  morally  strong  by  the  war,  is  about  to  become  the  rival  of 
Austria,  and  even  now  she  seeks  to  have  a  voice  in  German  politics. 
Northern  Germany  already  inclines  to  Prussia  by  its  sympathies  of 
creed  and  opinion.  If  we  allow  this  to  go  on,  Prussia  will  divide 
Germany  into  two  halves.  The  northern  half,  that  whicli  is  Protes- 
tant, and  in  my  opinion  the  wiser  half,  because  free  from  the  prejvi- 
dices  of  religion,  will  belong  to  enlightened  Prussia  ;  the  southern 
half,  the  bigoted  Catholic  portion,  that  which  believes  in  the  pope 
and  his  Jesuits,  may  perhaps  adhere  to  Austria.  Then  comes  revo- 
lution. Prussia  will  have  for  her  allies,  not  only  northern  Germany, 
but  Sweden,  England,  Holland,  Denmark,  even  Russia.  Every 
step  she  takes  in  advance  will  drive  back  Austria  ;  and  tlie  day  may 
come  when  Prussia,  our  powerful  enemj^  will  seek  for  the  Margrave 
of  Brandenburg  the  crown  of  the  Kaisers. " 

"Never!  never!"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  passionately.  "To 
think  of  this  little  Burgrave  of  Nuremberg,  the  vassal  of  Rudolf  of 
Hapsburg,  growing  to  be  the  rival  of  the  stately  house  of  Austria! 
No,  no !  Never  shall  the  day  dawn  when  Austria  descends  to  an 
equality  with  Prussia  !  We  are  natural  enemies  ;  we  can  no  more 
call  the  Brandenburgs  brothers  than  the  eagle  can  claim  kindred 
with  the  vulture  1  You  are  right,  count ;  the  strife  of  the  battle- 
field is  over,  let  us  gird  ourselves  for  that  of  diplomac3^  Let  us  be 
wary  and  watchful ;  not  only  tlie  state  but  the  holy  church  is  in 
danger.  I  can  no  longer  allow  this  prince  of  infidels  to  propagate 
his  unbelief  or  his  Protestantism  throughout  my  Catliolic  fatlierland. 
We  are  the  ally  and  the  daughter  of  our  holy  father,  the  pope,  and 
we  must  be  up  and  doing  for  God  and  for  our  country.  Now  let  us 
think  how  we  are  to  check  this  thirst  of  Prussia  for  power." 

"  There  are  two  expedients, "  said  Kaunitz,  calmly  interrupting 
the  empress  in  her  torrent  of  indignation. 

"  Let  us  hear  th(>m. " 

"  TJie  first  one  is  to  sti-engthen  our  interest  with  Germany  either 
by  offers  of  advantages  and  lionors,  payment  of  subsidies,  or  by 
matrimonial  alliances.  For  this  reason  it  is  that  the  future  King  of 
Rome  must  choose  his  wife  among  the  princesses  of  Germany. 
Through  your  majesty's  other  children  we  will  ally  ourselves  to  the 
rest  of  Enro]ie.  Tlie  Bourbons  reign  in  the  south,  and  they  must 
all  be  allied  to  the  hotise  of  HMi)suhrg.  TIn-ough  the  marriage  of 
Archduke  Tjcopold  with  the  daiigiitei-  of  the  King  of  S])ain,  we  shall 
gain  a  powerful  ally  ;  and  the  archduke  himself,  as  Grand  Duke  of 
Tuscany,  will  represent  Austria's  interest  in  Italy.     If  the  Crown 


MATRIMONIAL  PLANS.  101 

Prfnce  of  Parma  and  the  young  King  of  Naples  unite  themselves  to 
two  of  your  majesty's  daughters,  then  all  Italy  will  be  leagued  with 
Austria.  When  this  is  accomplished,  the  word  'Italy'  will  be  a 
geographical  designation,  but  the  country  will  be  an  Austrian  de- 
pendency. Now  for  Western  Europe.  For  Fi-ance,  we  must  con- 
firm our  alliance  with  her  also.  The  son  of  the  dauphin,  the  grand- 
son of  Louis  XV. ,  is  now  eleven  years  old ;  just  three  years  older 
than  the  Archduchess  Marie  Antoinette. " 

"  Truly,  Kaunitz,  your  plans  are  great, "  cried  the  empress,  her 
face  full  of  smiles  and  radiant  with  joy.  "The  emperor  often  calls 
me  a  match-maker,  but  I  am  an  insignificant  schemer  by  your  side. 
I  must  say  that  I  approve  your  plans,  and  will  do  all  that  I  can  to 
insure  them  success. " 

"  The  most  of  them  are  for  the  future  ;  before  all  things  we  must 
bestir  ourselves  about  the  present.  You  have  seen  how  later,  we 
can  secure  the  friendship  of  the  south  ;  that  of  the  north  must  come 
through  the  marriage  of  the  King  of  Rome.  His  selection  of  a  Ger- 
man princess  will  incline  all  Germany  toward  your  majesty's 
imperial  house.  Nearest  to  Prussia  are  the  two  important  princi- 
palities of  Bavaria  and  Saxony. " 

"  And  both  have  unmarried  princesses, "  exclaimed  the  empress, 
joyfully.  "  I  wish  we  might  select  the  daughter  of  the  Elector  of 
Saxony,  for  that  house  has  suffered  so  much  for  Austi'ia,  that  I 
would  gladly  do  it  this  favor.  But  I  have  heard  that  the  Princess 
Mary  Kunigunde  has  verj'  few  charms. " 

"  Perhaps  Josepha  of  Bavaria  may  be  handsomer, "  said  Kaunitz 
dryly. 

"  She  is  nevertheless  the  daughter  of  Charles  VII. ,  and  he  has 
never  been  my  friend.  I  have  suffered  much  from  this  man,  and 
would  5"ou  have  me  accept  his  daughter  as  mine?" 

'"There  can  be  no  resentment  for  bygones  in  politics,"  said 
Kavinitz,  deliberately. 

"  But  there  may  be  gratitude  for  past  services, "  exclaimed  the 
empress,  warmly.  "I  shall  never  forget  how  Hungar}'  sustainec 
me  when  this  man  would  have  robbed  me  of  my  crown.  I  never 
would  have  worn  my  imperial  diadem  but  for  the  help  of  God,  and 
the  sword  of  St.  Stephen,  which  my  brave  Magyars  drew  for  me  on 
tlie  battle-field !  Without  Hungary  I  would  have  been  dethroned, 
and  shall  I  now  place  the  crown  of  St.  Stephen's  ujjon  the  brow  of 
an  enemy's  daughter  !  It  would  be  an  injustice  to  my  loyal  Hunga- 
rians. I  shall  give  my  voice  to  Mary  of  Saxony,  but  if  Joseph 
prefers  Josepha,  I  will  not  oppose  his  choice.  And  this  matter  set- 
tled, tell  me  your  other  plans  for  strengthening  the  power  of 
Austria. " 

"My  second  plan  is  to  humanize  the  Hungarian  nobles.  Tliese 
nobles  reign  in  Hungary  like  so  many  petty  sovereigns.  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  nationality  among  them.  The  country  is  divided 
into  nobles  and  vassals.  The  nobles  are  so  powerful  that  the  govern- 
ment is  completely  lost  sight  of,  and  the  real  sovereigns  of  Hungary 
are  the  Magyars. " 

"That  is  in  some  sense  tiaie, "  answered  the  empress.  "I  have 
often  felt  how  dangerous  to  my  rights  was  the  arrogance  of  my 
Hungarian  subjects.  They  lift  their  haughty  heads  too  near  the 
regions  of  royalty. " 

''And  your  majesty's  great  ancestor,  Charles  V.,  once  said  that 


102  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS  COURT. 

nothing  had  a  right  to  lift  its  head  in  the  vicinity  of  a  king.  The 
very  trees  would  he  lop,  that  their  branches  might  not  grow  too  near 
to  heaven ;  how  much  more  the  heads  of  men,  when  they  were 
raised  too  higli." 

"But  such  a  i^olicy  shall  never  be  mine — I  will  never  buy  obedi- 
ence with  oppression.  Besides,  I  have  already  said  that  I  am  under 
obligations  to  my  liuQgarian  nobles,  and  I  will  not  injure  a  hair  of 
their  heads." 

•'  Tliere  are  other  ways  of  conquering  besides  the  sword, "  said 
the  crafty  Kaunitz.  "  Coercion  would  but  fortify  the  Magyars  in 
their  insolence.  These  haughty  lords  must  be  enticed  from  their 
fastnesses  to  Vienna.  They  must  be  greeted  witli  honors,  titles, 
and  estates.  They  must  be  taught  to  love  splendor,  to  spend  money, 
to  accumulate  debts,  until  tliey  become  bankrupt,  and  their  posses- 
sions in  Hungary  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  crown. " 

"What  an  infamous  i^olicy  !"  cried  the  empress. 

"Good,  nevertheless,"  said  Kaunitz  calmly.  "Nothing  can  be 
done  with  the  Magyars  by  force.  They  must  be  vanquished  by 
pleasure,  and  also  by  marriage.  They  must  be  made  to  take  home 
Viennese  wives,  wlio  will  initiate  them  into  the  arts  of  refined  life, 
who  will  heliD  them  to  waste  their  money,  and  so  cut  off  the  wings 
of  their  freedom.  He  who  lias  learned  to  love  pleasure  will  have 
no  taste  for  sedition,  and  he  who  is  in  debt  is  no  longer  free.  Your 
majesty  must  bestow  gifts  and  places  at  court ;  the  Magyars  will 
grow  ambitious — they  will  become  hangers-on  of  princes,  and — dis- 
sipation, ostentation,  and  extravagance  will  do  the  rest." 

"While  Kaunitz  was  unfolding  his  satanic  schemes,  the  empress 
walked  up  and  down,  in  visible  agitation.  When  he  ceased,  she 
came  and  stood  before  liim,  and  with  her  searching  eyes  tried  to 
look  tlirough  the  mask  of  his  impenetrable  countenance. 

"  What  you  have  said  there, "  said  she,  "  is  a  mournful  leaf  from 
the  book  of  worldly  wisdom  which  guides  your  actions,  and  it  is 
enough  to  make  an  honest  lieart  ache  to  think  that  good  is  to  be 
readied  by  such  foul  means.  My  heart  struggles  against  such  a 
course,  but  my  head  approves  it,  and  I  dare  not  listen  to  my  womanly 
scruples,  for  I  am  a  sovereign.  May  the  wiles  of  the  women  of 
Vienna  make  loyal  subjects  of  my  brave  Hungarians  !  I  will  bestow 
honors  without  end  ;  but  for  aught  else,  let  it  come  as  it  may.  Ex- 
travagance, debt,  and  sequestration,  they  must  bring  about  them- 
selves. " 

"They  will  follow;  and  then  sequestered  estates  must  go  to 
Austrian  n()l)]es,  tliat  our  own  people  may  mingle  with  the  Magj'ars 
at  liome,  and  strengthen  the  influence  of  your  majesty's  house  in 
Hungary. " 

"Say  no  more,"  said  the  empress,  mournfull}-.  "Bring  them 
hitlier,  if  you  can.  But  my  heart  aches,  and  my  ears  burn  to  have 
heard  what  you  have  said.  Say  no  more  of  Hungary  to  me — let  us 
s])eak  of  our  briglit  plans  for  my  children.  It  makes  me  happy  to 
think  that  so  manv  of  tliem  will  wear  crowns." 

"The  first  will"  be  that  of  the  King  of  Rome,  and  I  trust  that, 
before  his  coronation,  yoiu-  majesty  will  have  persuaded  him  to 
Viarry  one  of  the  tAvo  German  ]iriiicesses  of  wliom  we  have  spoken." 

"The  Saxon  or  the  Bavarian,"  said  the  empress.  "I  think  he 
will  (■oini)ly — for  he  will  understand  as  well  as  ourselves  the  urgency 
of  the  case.     When  is  the  coronation  to  take  place?" 


MATRIMONIAL  PLANS.  103 

"  In  two  weeks,  your  majesty. " 

"  Then  poor  Joseph  has  but  fourteen  days  for  his  grief.  When 
he  returns  from  Frankfort,  I  shall  remind  him  of  his  duty  as  a 
sovereign.  But  hark  !  It  is  twelve  o'clock — the  hour  for  mass.  If 
the  lord  chancellor  has  nothing  more  to  propose,  I — " 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty.  I  have  an  insignificant  petition  to 
present — it  concerns  myself. " 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  me, "  said  Maria  Theresa,  "  to  think  that  in 
any  way  I  can  gratify  you.  Speak,  then,  without  fear.  What  can 
I  do  to  serve  you?" 

"  It  is  only  for  the  sake  of  decorum,  your  majesty, "  replied 
Kaunitz.  "You  say  that  I  have  been  useful  to  the  country.  I  con- 
fess that  I,  too,  think  that  I  deserve  something  from  Austria.  If  I 
were  another  man,  and  Kaunitz  stood  by,  as  I  reviewed  in  my  mind 
all  that  he  has  done  and  is  trying  still  to  do  to  make  Austria  power- 
ful, I  would  speak  thus  to  your  majesty  :  '  It  is  in  the  power  of  the 
empress  to  distinguish  merit  by  elevating  it  to  a  position  above  the 
common  herd.  Your  majesty  has  honored  Count  Kaunitz  by  call- 
ing him  your  right  hand.  When  the  head  of  a  body  politic  is  an 
empress,  it  is  not  enough  for  the  right  hand  to  be  called  a  count. '" 

"  Shall  I  call  you  prince  ?"  laughed  Maria  Theresa. 

"Just  what  I  was  about  to  propose  to  your  majesty,"  said 
Kaunitz,  as  he  made  a  deeper  inclination  than  usual  before  the 
empress. 

"Then  it  shall  be  so,"  said  she,  warmly.  "From  this  moment 
my  esteemed  minister  is  Prince  Kaunitz,  and  the  letters  patent  shall 
be  made  out  this  very  day. " 

She  extended  her  hand  to  the  new-made  prince,  who  kissed  it 
fervently . 

"I  take  this  title,  so  graciously  bestowed,  not  because  it  will 
confer  splendor  upon  my  own  name,  but  because  it  will  prove  to  the 
world  that  those  who  serve  Maria  Theresa  with  fidelity,  she  delights 
to  honor.  And  now  that  this  trifling  matter  is  arranged,  I  beg  your 
majesty's  permission  to  retire. " 

"Until  to-morrow,"  replied  the  empress,  with  a  smile. 

She  waved  her  hand  ;  but  as  Kaunitz  left  the  room,  he  heard  her 
following  him  into  the  anteroom.  He  had  already  opened  the  door 
leading  into  the  hall,  bvit  hearing  her  still  advance,  he  turned  again, 
and  made  a  profound  inclination. 

"  Au  revoir,  my  dear  prince, "  said  the  empress,  loud  enough  for 
Father  Porhammer,  who  waited  to  accompany  her  to  the  chapel,  to 
hear  her  greeting. 

The  father  could  not  withhold  some  trace  of  his  displeasure  from 
his  countenance,  while  Kaunitz,  with  a  faint,  derisive  smile, 
passed  on.  The  empress,  at  that  moment,  reopened  the  door,*and 
came  out  into  the  hall.  Father  Porhammer,  advancing  to  her,  said, 
"  Did  I  not  i)rove  to  your  majesty  the  truth  of  my  statement  con- 
cerning the  immorality  of — " 

"The  what?"  said  the  empress,  with  an  absent  air.  "Oh  yes, 
yes.  I  had  forgotten.  You  wished  to  prove  to  me  that  the  lord 
chancellor  had  some  person  in  his  can-iage  awaiting  his  retiu-n.  I 
believe  you,  father — dovibtless  there  is  some  one  in  the  carriage  of 
the  lord  chancellor,  whom  it  would  be  improper  to  name  in  my 
presence.  But  listen  to  what  I  liave  to  say  on  this  subject.  It  is 
better  for  you  and  for  me  not  to  see  what  goes  on  either  in  the  lord 

8 


104  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

chancellor's  house  or  in  his  carriage.  Close  your  eyes,  as  I  shall 
mine,  to  whatever  is  objectionable  in  his  life.  I  cannot  atf'ord  to 
lose  his  services.  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  he  is  blameless.  His 
life  may  be  loose,  but  his  loyalty  is  firm  ;  he  is  a  wise  and  great 
statesman,  and  that,  you  will  allow,  is  a  virtue  which  may  well 
cover  a  multitude  of  sins. " 

Father  Porhammer  bowed  to  the  will  of  his  sovereign  ;  Prince 
Kaunitz  went  on  with  his  life  of  debauchery. 

"  Let  us  hasten  to  the  chapel, "  added  the  empress ;  and  a  page 
throwing  open  the  doors  of  another  apartment,  Maria  Theresa  joined 
her  lords  and  ladies  in  waiting,  and  the  imperial  court  entered  the 
chapel. 

But  the  thoughts  of  the  empress  were  more  of  earth  than  heaven, 
on  that  morning.  Her  heart  was  filled  with  maternal  cares,  and 
when  the  services  were  over,  and  she  had  arrived  at  the  door  of  her 
cabinet,  she  dismissed  her  attendants,  and  summoned  to  her  presence 
the  marshal  of  the  household,  Count  Dietrichstein. 

As  soon  as  he  appeared,  Maria  Theresa  said  eagerh' :  "  Come 
hither,  covmt.  I  wisli  to  have  a  confidential  conversation  with  you. 
You  are  an  old  and  faithful  servant  of  my  family,  and  I  know  that 
I  can  depend  upon  your  discretion." 

"  Your  majesty  well  knows  that  I  would  sooner  die  than  betray  a 
secret  of  my  imperial  mistress, "  exclaimed  good,  fat,  old  Dietrich- 
stein, fervently. 

The  empress  looked  kindly  at  his  red,  good-humored  face.  "And 
you  would  rather  die  than  tell  me  an  untruth  also,  is  it  not  so?"  said 
she,  smiling. 

"That,"  replied  Count  Dietrichstein,  with  another  smile,  "that 
is  an  embarrassing  question ;  for  there  are  cases,  when  even  j'our 
majesty's  self — " 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  but  in  this  instance  I  earnestly  desire  to  hear  the  un- 
varnished truth. " 

"If  so,  your  majesty's  desire  is  for  ine  a  command,  and  I  will 
answer  truthfully  whatever  you  ask. " 

"Well,  then,  listen  to  me.  You  have  just  returned  from  a  tour 
in  Bavaria  and  Saxony.  Of  course  you  have  seen  the  two  princesses, 
Mary  Kunigunde  and  Josepha. " 

"I  know  them  both,"  said  Dietrichstein,  puffing. 

"Well,  tell  me  what  sort  of  person  is  the  Princess  Mary  Kvmi- 
gunde  ?" 

"  She  is  slender, "  replied  Dietrichstein,  shrugging  his  shoulders  ; 
"slender  as  a  beau-pole.  If  your  majesty  will  pardon  me  the  ex- 
pression in  favor  of  its  truth,  her  bones  rattle  as  she  walks,  and  if 
you  should  chance  to  touch  her  by  accident,  I  jjity  you." 

"What  for?" 

"Because  you  Avill  retreat  from  the  collision  bruised." 

"You  area  wicked  slanderer,  count,"  replied  the  empress.  "You 
mean  to  say  that  the  Princess  of  Saxony  is  frail  and  feminine  in 
her  ajipearance. " 

"If  your  majesty  pleases,  so  be  it;  but  if  you  looked  into  her 
serene  highness's  face,  you  might  mistake  her  for  a  man,  neverthe- 
less." 

"Holy  Virgin!  what  does  the  man  mean?"  cried  the  empress, 
astounded. 

"  I  mean, "  said  the  count,  with  a  sort  of  comic  seriousness,  "  that 


MATRIMONIAL  PLANS.  10-5 

the  frail  and  feminine  princess  has  a  black  beard  which  a  cornet 
might  envy. " 

"Nonsense,  count!  you  saw  her  at  twilight,  and  mistook  a 
shadow  on  her  face  for  a  beard. " 

'•  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  you  commanded  me  to  tell  the  truth. 
I  saw  the  princess  by  sunlight  as  well  as  by  candlelight.  Under  all 
circumstances,  this  black  shadow  overhung  her  not  very  small  mouth  ; 
and  I  have  strong  reason  for  persisting  in  my  opinion  that  it  was  a 
flourishing  beard. " 

"But  Josepha  of  Bavaria — is  she  handsomer?" 

"Handsomer,  your  majesty,"  cried  the  old  count.  "It  is  said 
that  she  is  a  good  and  estimable  person  ;  if  this  be  true,  her  soul  is 
very,  very  different  from  her  bodj-.  Indeed,  her  beautj'  may  be 
said  to  rival  that  of  the  Princess  Mary. " 

"  You  are  a  keen  critic, "  sighed  tlie  empress.  "  But  suppose  you 
were  obliged  to  marry  either  one  of  the  princesses,  which  one  would 
you  choose?" 

"Your  majesty !"  exclaimed  the  old  count,  horror-stricken.  "I 
never  would  have  the  assurance  to  raise  my  eyes  to  thoughts  of  mar- 
riage with  a  serene  highness. " 

"  Well,  then, "  said  the  empress,  "  suppose  you  were  a  prince  and 
her  equal  in  birth,  which  one  then  would  you  prefer?" 

Tlie  count  looked  at  the  floor,  and  was  silent. 

"The  truth,  the  truth!"  cried  the  empress.  "Speak  out  and  do 
not  fear.  W  hatever  you  say  shall  be  sacred  with  me.  Now  tell  me, 
which  of  the  two  would  you  take  to  wife?" 

"Well,  then,"  said  Count  Dietrichstein,  with  a  grimace  of  ex- 
cessive disgust,  "since  your  majesty  obliges  me  to  suppose  the  case, 
I  will  tell  the  truth.  If  by  any  artifice  I  could  escape,  nothing  on 
earth  would  induce  me  to  marry  either  one  of  them.  But  if  tlie 
knife  were  at  my  throat,  and  I  had  no  other  way  of  saving  my  life, 
I  would  take  the  Princess  Josepha,  for  she — " 

"Speak  out,"  said  the  empress,  amused,  though  sorely  disap- 
pointed.    "  You  would  marry  Josepha  of  Bavaria  because — " 

•'  Because, "  sighed  the  fat  old  count,  "  if  she  is  horribly  ugly,  she 
has,  at  least,  something  like  a  svoman's  bosom." 

Maria  Theresa  broke  out  into  a  hearty  laugh.  "  You  are  right, " 
said  she,  "the  reason  is  a  very  good  one,  and  has  its  weight.  I 
thank  you  for  your  candor,  and  will  turn  over  in  my  mind  what 
you  have  told  me." 

"  But  your  majesty  has  promised  not  to  betray  me, "  protested  the 
count  with  imploring  look. 

"And  I  will  keep  my  promise  faithfully, "  replied  the  empress, 
reaching  him  her  hand.  "  Nevertheless,  I  cling  to  the  hope  that  you 
liave  exaggerated  the  defects  of  the  princesses,  and  that  they  are 
not  altogether  as  ugly  as  you  have  pictured  them  to  me. "  * 

*This  conversation  is  historical,  and  the  criticism  of  Count  Dietrichstein  upon  the 
two  princesses,  as  here  related,  is  almost  verbatim.  See  Wraxall's  "  Memoirs,"  vol. 
ii.,  page  406. 


106  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER     XXV. 

JOSEPHA     OF     BAVARIA. 

Festivity  reigned  at  the  court  and  throughout  the  city  of  Vienna. 
The  weather  was  cold,  but  the  streets  were  thronged  with  people 
and  liung  with  garlands.  Nothing  was  thought  of  but  balls,  illu- 
minations, and  dress.  Every  one  was  curious  to  see  the  splendid 
spectacle  of  the  day — the  entrance  of  the  bride  of  the  King  of  Rome 
into  Vienna. 

The  plans  of  the  lord  chancellor  were  beginning  to  unfold  them- 
selves. The  Archduke  Joseph  had  been  crowned  King  of  Rome  at 
Frankfort,  and  the  emjiress  on  his  return,  had  prepared  him  for  his 
second  bridal.  He  had  stoutly  refused  at  first,  but  finally  had 
yielded  to  the  reasonings  of  his  mother  and  the  persuasions  of  his 
father.  He  had  been  told  to  choose  between  Mary  Kunigunde  and 
Josepha. 

Not  far  from  Toplitz,  as  if  by  accident,  he  met  the  Princess  Mary 
out  on  a  hunting  party.  The  princess  was  on  horseback ;  but  she 
rode  awkwardly,  and  her  demeanor  was  shy  and  ungraceful.  She 
well  knew  the  object  of  this  casual  meeting,  and  when  the  King  of 
Rome  approached  to  greet  her,  she  turned  pale  and  trembled  as  she 
felt  the  gaze  of  his  large  blue  eyes.  Her  paleness  did  not  increase 
her  beauty,  nor  did  her  shyness  contribute  to  make  her  interesting. 
Joseph  was  annoyed  at  her  taciturnity  and  disgusted  with  her  ugli- 
ness. After  a  few  brief  words  he  bowed,  and  galloped  off  to  join 
his  retinue.  The  princess  looked  sadly  after  him,  and  returned 
home  with  a  troubled  heart.  She  knew  that  she  had  been  dis- 
dained, and  that  the  King  of  Rome  would  never  choose  her  for  his 
bride. 

She  was  right.  Joseph  preferred  the  Princess  Josepha,  whom  he 
had  also  "met  by  chance."  He,  like  Count  Dietrichstein,  having 
tlie  knife  at  his  throat,  selected  her  for  his  bride  who  was  minus  the 
flourishing  black  beard. 

It  was  the  22d  of  January  of  the  year  1765,  and  the  wedding-day 
of  the  King  of  Rome.  From  early  morning  the  archduchesses  at  the 
palace  had  been  practising  a  lyric  drama  from  the  pen  of  Metastasio 
called  "  11  Paniasso  Confuso. "  The  music  was  by  Gluck,  and  his 
deep  bass  was  heard  accompanying  tlie  sweet  rich  voices  of  the 
bridegroom'.s  sisters.  They  had  studied  their  parts  diligently,  and 
felt  quite  confident  of  success,  as  they  gathered  around  the  maestro. 
But  Cluck  was  never  satisfied,  and  he  kept  Apollo  and  tlie  Muses  at 
their  music-lesson  until  tlieir  ladies  of  honor  were  obliged  to  inform 
them  tliat  they  nnist  jiositively  retire  to  their  toilets,  a  courier  hav- 
ing arrived  to  say  tliat  the  princess  had  entered  the  gates  of  the  city. 

While  all  thisse  prei)aiations  were  going  on  around  him,  the 
King  of  Rome  tarried  in  his  private  apartments.  He  was  in  the 
room  wherein  he  had  locked  liiniself  after  the  death  of  Isabella,  the 
room  wiu^re  day  and  night  he  had  (if'plorecl  his  lost  ha]ii)iness,  until 
Christina  had  so  rudely  awakened  liim  from  his  dream  of  love  and 
sorrow. 

This  miserable  consolation  had  had  its  effect.  Joseph  wiped 
away   his  tears,  and  having  read  Isabella's  letters  and  convinced 


JOSEPHA  OF  BAVARIA.  107 

himself  that  she  never  had  loved  him,  he  had  forborne  to  murmur 
at  her  loss. 

On  this,  his  bridal- day,  he  was  thinking  of  the  time  when  alone 
and  heart-broken  he  had  paced  this  room  for  three  days  and  nights  ; 
and  now,  surrounded  by  festivity  and  splendor,  he  paced  the  floor 
again,  awaiting  the  moment  when  he  should  have  to  mount  his  horse 
and  meet  the  princess.  He  was  not  with  the  living  bride,  but  with 
the  dead  one ;  and  as  he  thought  of  her  grace,  her  smiles,  her  sur- 
passing beauty,  his  lip  curled  with  a  sneer,  and  his  brow  grew  dark 
and  stormy. 

"  And  she,  too,  deceived  me, "  said  he ;  "  those  smiles,  those 
glances,  that  love,  all  were  false.  While  she  lay  in  my  arms  and 
listened  to  my  words  of  love,  her  heart  was  in  the  grave  with  her 
murdered  lover  !  Oh,  my  God  !  now  that  I  know  that  she  deceived 
me,  in  whom  can  I  place  my  trust?  Even  now,  what  am  I  but  a 
dependent  boy,  the  slave  of  the  empress  and  of  her  all-powerful 
minister,  who  force  upon  me  a  woman  wliom  I  hate,  and  bid  me 
make  her  the  mother  of  my  childi'enV  Oh,  when  will  my  shackles 
fall,  when  shall  I  be  free  !" 

In  tlie  distance  was  heard  the  dull  sound  of  a  cannon.  "  Already  !" 
cried  the  unhappy  bridegroom.  "It  is  time  for  me  to  meet  my 
bride,  and  to  begin  the  loathsome  farce  of  a  second  bridal.  Verily, 
if  I  did  not  hate  this  Josepha,  I  could  pity  her.  She  will  not  find 
me  a  loving  husband.  The  Queen  of  Rome  will  never  be  an  envi- 
able woman !" 

So  saying,  he  threw  around  his  shoulders  his  velvet  cloak  edged 
with  ermine,  and  left  the  room  to  .join  his  retinue.  They  were  to 
meet  the  princess  and  accompany  her  to  the  castle  of  Schonljrunn. 
It  was  there  that  the  imperial  family  awaited  the  bridal  party,  and 
there  in  the  chapel  the  marriage  was  to  be  solemnized. 

The  streets  were  thronged  with  people  that  shouted  for  joy  ;  the 
balconies  and  windows  were  filled  with  elegant  women,  who  smiled 
and  waved  their  hantls  in  greeting  to  tlie  royal  pair.  For  all  the 
world  this  was  a  day  of  rejoicing,  except  for  the  two  persons  for 
whose  sake  the  rest  rejoiced.  These  had  no  part  in  the  univerSal 
gayety  ;  and  the  mirth  which  was  inspired  by  their  presence  found 
no  echo  in  their  souls — Joseph's  heart  was  full  of  dislike  and  ill- 
will  toward  his  betrothed,  and  she  was  unhappy,  fearing  the  recep- 
tion that  awaited  her.  She  had  trembled  as  she  thought  of  the 
meeting  witli  Joseph,  and  then  of  the  proud,  powerful,  and  beauti- 
ful woman  who  was  his  mother.  The  fame  of  her  intellect,  fascina- 
tions, and  beauty  had  reached  the  court  of  Munich,  and  poor  Josepha 
knew  very  well  that  she  was  neither  handsome,  cultivated,  nor 
charming.  Her  education  had  been  neglected,  and  if  she  had 
attained  to  the  honor  of  being  Queen  of  Rome  and  Empress-elect  of 
Austi'ia,  it  was  not  that  she  had  any  right  to  a  station  so  exalted, 
it  was  that  her  brother  was  childless  and  had  promised  his  inheri- 
tance to  Austria. 

Josepha  was  sad  as  she  thought  of  these  things,  but  she  could  not 
suppress  an  emotion  of  joy  when  she  saw  the  brilliant  cortege  that 
was  coming  from  Vienna  to  meet  her.  This  proud  and  handsome 
horseman,  whose  blue  eyes  shone  like  stars,  this  was  her  husband, 
the  lord  of  her  destiny !  She  had  seen  him  once  before,  and  had 
loved  him  from  that  moment.  True,  he  had  not  chosen  her  from 
inclination,  but  she  could  not  shut  her  heart  to  the  bliss  of  being 


108  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

his  wife,  he  who,  to-day  a  king,  would  in  future  years  place  an 
imperial  crown  upon  her  brow. 

And  now  tlie  two  cavalcades  met ;  the  carriage  of  the  princess 
drew  up,  and  the  King  of  Rome  dismounting,  came  toward  her  with 
a  low  inclination  of  the  head.  Around  them  stood  the  noblemen  of 
his  suite,  whose  splendid  uniforms  and  decorations  dazzled  the  eye 
with  their  brilliancy.  They  sprang  from  their  horses  and  each  one 
reverentially  saluted  tlie  bride-elect.  This  done,  the  King  of  Rome 
assisted  her  to  alight,  that  she  might  mount  the  magnificent  horse 
which  was  now  led  forward  by  the  empress's  chief  master  of  the 
horse. 

When  her  betrothed  held  out  his  hand  to  her,  Josepha,  blushing, 
looked  at  him  with  a  timid  and  tender  glance,  which  seemed  to 
implore  a  return  of  her  love.  She  could  not  speak  a  word,  but  she 
pressed  his  hand. 

Joseph,  so  far  from  returning  the  pressure,  looked  surprised — 
almost  disdainful ;  and,  stepping  back,  he  left  to  the  master  of  the 
horse  and  the  other  lords  in  waiting  the  care  of  assisting  the  princess 
to  mount.  She  sprang  into  the  saddle  with  perfect  confidence,  and 
grasped  her  reins  with  so  much  skill,  tliat  although  the  beautiful 
animal  reared  and  pranced  until  his  bridle  was  covered  with  foam, 
his  rider  was  perfectly  at  ease. 

"She  is,  at  least,  a  good  horsewoman, "  said  Joseph  to  himself, 
as  he  took  his  place  by  her  side. 

And  now  the  bells  chimed  merrily,  and  the  cannon  proclaimed 
to  all  Vienna  that  the  royal  pair  were  about  to  enter  the  city. 

Silently  they  rode  througli  the  flower-strewn  streets,  silently 
they  heard  the  joyous  shouts  of  the  multitude,  here  and  there  smil- 
ing wearily  in  return,  but  both  tired  of  splendor,  and  both  longing 
for  rest.  Neither  spoke  to  the  other ;  what  had  they  to  say  to 
one  another — they  whom  policy  had  chained  together  for  life? 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  city  the  state -coach  of  the  empi-ess 
awaited  the  princess.  With  an  indifl'erent  and  careless  air,  Joseph 
handed  Josepha  to  the  carriage.  This  time  slie  dared  not  press  his 
hand  ;  but  as  the  door  closed  upon  herself  and  her  governess,  she 
threw  herself  back  upon  the  velvet  cushions  and  wept  bitterly. 

"For  tlie  love  of  Heaven,  what  meantliese  tears,  your  liighness?" 
cried  the  governess.  "Your  highness's  head-dress  will  be  ruined, 
and  your  eyes  will  bo  swollen." 

"'Tis  true, "  murmured  Josepha,  "I  have  no  right  to  weep,  as 
other  women  do,  at  such  a  time.  I  am  nothing  but  a  puppet,  that 
laughs  or  w(>ops  as  etiquette  ordains. " 

"Your  liighness  is  excited  and  does  not  see  your  destiny  in  its 
true  light,"  replied  tlie  lad}',  witli  sympathy.  "It  is  one  which  any 
woman  on  earth  might  envy.  You  are  about  to  become  the  wife  of 
the  handsomest  prince  in  all  Europe,  an  emperor  in  prospect,  and 
son  of  the  great  I\Iaria  Theresa,  whose  beauty  and  goodness  are  the 
theme  of  the  whole  world.  And  then  the  lovely  and  accomplished 
Archduchesses  of  Austria — they  are  to  \)v  your  sisters-in-law  !" 

"Yes,"  said  the  princess,  passionately,  "and  look  at  me.  You 
have  known  me  since  my  infancy,  dear  friend,  therefore  you  need 
not  flatter  me  because  of  my  station.  Look  at  nie,  and  tell  me  if  it 
is  not  enough  to  break  my  lieart,  that  I  must  appear  before  this 
beautiful  empress  and  her  daughters,  and  that  I  must  try  to  win  the 
aifectious  of  this  prince,  tlie  glance  of  whose  eye  is  enough  to  kindle 


JOSEPHA  OF  BAVARIA.  109 

love  in  the  heart  of  every  woman  living — oh  say,  and  speak  without 
reserve — tell  me  if  a  woman  so  obscure,  so  ignorant,  and  so  destitute 
of  charms,  can  ever  hope  to  be  loved  or  cherished  by  such  a  family?" 
"Your  highness  is  worthy  of  all  affection,  and  deserves  the 
choicest  of  the  blessings  that  are  in  store  for  you, "  replied  the  lady 
of  honor  warmly.  "  No  one  knowing  your  noble  heart  would  say 
that  any  station  is  too  exalted  for  you. " 

"  Oh !  who  will  be  troubled  with  looking  into  my  heart  in 
imperial  Vienna?"  sobbed  the  disheartened  Josepha.  "Externals 
are  every  thing  in  court ;  and  I,  unhapj^y  one,  who  scarcely  dare  not 
utter  my  heart's  yearnings  to  those  who  encourage  me,  what  will 
become  of  me  if  I  meet  with  cold  glances  or  scoi'uful  words?  I  feel 
how  little  I  am  skilled  to  win  love,  and  the  consciousness  of  my 
defects  heightens  them  and  renders  me  still  more  repulsive. " 

"Your  highness  is  uujust  toward  yourself.  No  one  else  would 
ever  dream  of  speaking  in  such  terms  of  you.  Be  happy,  dear  lady, 
and  you  will  soon  grow  comely,  too. " 

"Happy!"  sighed  the  princess,  looking  from  the  window  at  the 
elegant  and  graceful  prince,  who,  cold  and  stern  as  though  he  had 
been  following  the  dead,  vouchsafed  not  a  look  toward  the  carriage 
where  sat  his  bride. 

With  another  sigh  she  turned  her  head.  Her  eyes  encountered 
those  of  the  governess,  fixed  upon  her  in  wondering  sympathy. 
With  a  bitter  smile  Josepha  laid  her  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  her 
friend. 

"I  must  tell  you  something,  Lucy,"  said  she — "something  terri- 
ble and  sad.  Hear  well  my  words,  and  mark  them  !  I  already  love 
my  betrothed  beyond  power  of  expression  ;  but  he  will  never  return 
my  love.     I  shall  worship  him,  and  1  feel  that  he  will  hate  me  !" 

Blushing  painfully  at  the  sound  of  her  own  words,  the  princess 
hid  lier  face  in  her  hands. 

The  carriage  stopped,  and  now  the  confused  and  self- tortured 
girl  had  to  go  forward  to  meet  the  emperor,  who  waited  at  the  foot 
of  the  great  staircase  to  conduct  her  to  the  presence  of  the  empress. 
Maria  Theresa  came  gracefully  forward,  surrounded  by  her  beau- 
tiful daughters  and  a  dazzling  train  of  lords  and  ladies.  Josepha's 
head  reeled  when  she  saw  them,  and  almost  fainting,  she  sank  down 
at  the  feet  of  the  empress. 

"Mercy,  gracious  empress,  mercy!"  sobbed  the  poor  girl,  almost 
beside  herself  with  terror ;  while,  regardless  of  all  courtly  decorum, 
she  covered  the  hand  of  Maria  Theresa  with  tears  and  kisses. 

A  sneer  was  pei'ceptible  on  the  faces  of  the  courtiers,  and  the 
young  archduchesses  smiled  derisively  ;  but  Maria  Theresa,  whose 
generous  heart  beat  in  sympathetic  response  to  the  emotion  and 
fright  of  the  poor  young  stranger,  kindly  raised  her  up,  and,  kissing 
her  foi'ehead,  encouraged  her  with  gracious  words. 

"  Be  welcome,  my  daughter, "  said  she,  in  her  clear  and  silvery 
voice.  "  May  all  the  happiness  be  yours  through  life  !  Come,  my 
children,  let  us  hasten  to  the  chapel. " 

She  made  a  sign  to  her  husband,  and  took  the  arm  of  the  King 
of  Rome.  The  emperor  followed  with  the  Princess  Josepha,  and 
now  through  the  splendid  halls,  that  dazzled  the  eye  with  festive 
magnificence,  came  the  long  train  of  courtiers  and  ladies  that  graced 
the  pageant  of  this  royal  bridal.  In  the  chapel,  before  the  altar, 
stood  Cardinal  Megazzi,   surrounded   by  priests  and   acolytes,  all 


110  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

arrayed  in  the  pomp  and  splendor  attendant  on  a  solemn  Catholic 
ceremony. 

The  princess  had  not  been  wedded  by  proxy ;  it  was  therefore 
necessary  that  she  should  be  married  with  the  blessings  of  the 
church,  before  she  proceeded  in  state  to  the  throne-room  to  receive 
the  homage  due  to  her  as  a  queen.  No  time  had  therefore  been 
given  her  to  retire  before  the  ceremony,  and  she  was  married  in  her 
travelling-dress.  At  the  entrance  of  the  chapel  stood  the  new  ladies 
in  waiting  of  the  Queen  of  Rome.  One  of  them  relieved  her  of  her 
hat,  which  the  empress  replaced  by  a  wreath  of  myrtle.  Then 
Maria  Theresa,  having  placed  the  hand  of  Josepha  in  that  of  her 
son,  the  imperial  cortege  approached  the  altar. 

As  they  stood  before  the  chancel,  the  King  of  Rome,  overcome 
by  the  bitterness  of  the  moment,  bowed  his  head  to  his  unfortunate 
bride  and  whispered,  "Poor  Josepha,  I  pity  you  !" 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE  MARRIAGE   NIGHT. 

The  ceremonial  was  over.  The  empress  herself  had  conducted 
the  young  Queen  of  Rome  to  her  apartments  ;  and  she  liad  stood  by 
her  side,  while  her  tire- woman  exclianged  her  dress  of  golden  tissue 
for  a  light  white  negligee  of  finest  cambric  trimmed  with  costly  lace. 
With  her  own  hand  Maria  Theresa  unfastened  the  myrtle-wreath 
and  coronet  of  diamonds  that  encircled  her  daughter-in-law's  brow. 
She  then  kissed  Josepha  affectionately,  and,  bidding  her  good-night, 
she  besought  the  blessing  of  God  upon  both  her  children. 

And  now  the  princess  was  alone  in  this  vast  apartment.  On  one 
side,  under  a  canopy  of  blue  velvet  embroidered  with  gold,  was  the 
state-bed  of  the  Queen  of  Rome.  Close  by  stood  the  toilet  of  gold 
with  its  wilderness  of  jewels  and  etuis,  all  the  gifts  of  the  empress. 
On  the  walls  of  blue  velvet  hung  large  Venetian  mirrors,  filling  the 
room  with  images  of  that  gorgeous  bed  of  state.  In  the  centre,  on 
a  marble  table,  thirty  wax-lights  in  silver  candelabra  illumined 
the  splendor  of  the  scene.  Tlie  heavy  velvet  window  curtains  were 
closed  ;  but  they  threw  no  shadow,  for  the  pai"k  of  Schonbrunn  was 
illuminated  by  two  hiuidred  thousand  lamps,  which  far  and  near  lit 
up  the  castle  on  this  festive  evening  with  a  fiood  of  fiery  splendor.* 

The  Queen  of  Rome  was  alone,  her  bridesniaids  and  attendants 
had  left  her,  and  she  awaited  her  husband,  who  would  enter  her 
room  through  a  pri v^ate^^door  which,  close  to  the  bed  of  state,  led  to 
his  own  apartments. 

With  beating  lieart  and  in  feverish  suspense,  trembling  with 
hope  and  fear,  Josepha  paced  lier  magnificent  room.  Heavy  sighs 
broke  from  her  bosom,  hot  tears  fell  from  her  eyes. 

"He  will  come,'"  cried  slie,  wringing  her  hands,  "he  will  come 
and  look  into  my  face  with  liis  heavenly  blue  eyes,  and  I — I  shall 
cast  down  mine  like  a  culprit,  and  dare  not  confide  my  secret  to 
him.  O  God  !  O  Goil !  I  liave  sworn  to  conceal  my  infirmity,  for 
it  is  not  contagious  and  will  harm  no  one — and  yet  my  heart  mis- 
gives me  when  I  tliink  that — Oli,  no  !  no  !  It  will  soon  be  over,  and 
*IIormayer,  "  Reiuiuiscences  of  Vienna,"  vol.  v.,  page  31. 


THE  MARRIAGE  NIGHT.  Ill 

he  will  never  have  known  it.  Were  he  told  of  it,  it  might  preju- 
dice him  against  me,  and  how  could  I  bear  to  see  those  beauteous 
eyes  turned  away  from  me  in  disgust?  I  will  keep  my  secret ;  and 
after — my  love  shall  atone  to  him  for  this  one  breach  of  faith.  Oh, 
my  God  !  teach  me  how  to  win  him  !  I  have  nothing  to  bring  to 
this  splendid  court  save  the  gushing  fountains  of  my  love  for  him — 
oh,  my  father,  why  have  I  nothing  but  this  to  offer— why  have  I 
neither  beauty  nor  grace  to  please  my  husband's  eyes — for  I  love 
him,  oh,  I  love  him  already  more  than  my  life  !" 

She  started,  for  she  heard  a  sound  near  the  side  door.  Now  the 
key  turned  in  the  lock,  and  in  another  moment  the  king  M-alked  in. 
He  still  wore  the  magnificent  Spanish  court-dress  in  which  he  had 
received  the  homage  of  his  marriage  guests.  The  order  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  was  on  his  breast,  and  also  the  sparkling  diamond 
cross  of  the  imperial  house  of  Hapsbui'g.  Josepha,  blushing,  recalled 
to  mind  her  night  negligee,  and  dared  not  raise  her  eyes. 

For  a  while  they  stood  opposite  to  one  another,  Josepha  in  pain- 
ful confusion  ;  Joseph,  his  eyes  bent  with  cold  scrutiny  upon  her 
person.  At  length  he  approached  and  touched  her  gently  on  the 
arm. 

"Why  do  you  tremble  so?"  asked  he  kindly.  " Raise  your  head 
and  look  at  me. " 

Slowly  she  lifted  her  eyes,  and  looked  at  him  with  a  gaze  of 
entreaty. 

"  Now, "  said  he,  with  a  bitter  smile,  "  am  I  so  frightful  that  you 
have  reason  to  tremble  at  my  coming?" 

"I  did  not  tremble  from  fear  or  fright,"  said  she,  in  a  voice 
scarcely  audible. 

"Ah,  you  have  no  confidence  in  me,"  said  he,  "you  wish  to  hide 
your  emotions  from  me.  And  yet  madame,  let  me  tell  you  that 
nothing  but  mutual  and  perfect  confidence  will  help  us  through  this 
hour  and  through  life.  Come,  then,  Josepha,  I  will  set  you  the 
example.  I  will  confide  in  you  without  reserve.  Give  me  your 
hand  and  let  us  sit  together  on  yonder  divan." 

She  placed  her  trembling  hand  within  his,  and  he  led  her  to  the 
sofa.  A  flood  of  deep  and  silent  joy  overwhelmed  her  heart,  as 
alone  in  that  roj'al  apartment,  which  was  hers,  she  sat  by  the  side  of 
this  man  whom  she  had  aheady  loved  with  passion. 

"First,  madame,  let  me  ask  your  forgiveness  for  accepting  a 
hand  which  was  not  freely  bestowed  by  yourself,  but  was  placed  in 
mine  by  the  inexorable  policy  of  the  destiny  that  rules  kings.  In 
obeying  the  commands  of  your  brother,  you  have  not  only  married 
one  whom  you  did  not  know,  but  perhaps  you  have  been  forced  to 
stifle  other  wishes,  other  inclinations. " 

"No,"  cried  she,  earnestly,  "no.  I  have  left  nothing  to  regret, 
I  have  made  no  sacrifice,  I — " 

"  Yes,  you  have  sacrificed  your  freedom,  the  most  precious  boon 
that  Heaven  has  bestowed  on  man,  to  become  the  galley-slave  of 
policy  and  princely  station.     Poor  Josepha,  I  pity  you  !" 

"  Do  not  pity  me, "  said  Josepha,  tearfully,  "  pity  yourseK,  whose 
freedom  has  been  sacrificed  to  me.  You  have  given  your  honored 
hand  to  a  woman  whom  you  do  not  love,  a  woman  who  would  be 
too  happy — " 

"  Had  she  the  power  to  free  herself  and  me  from  this  compulsory 
union,"  interrupted  Joseph.      "I  believe  you,   for  I  read  in  your 


112  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

countenance  that  your  heart  is  good  and  noble,  and  gladly  would 
contribute  to  the  happiness  of  your  fellow-creatures.  But  we  must 
both  accept  the  destiny  which  the  hand  of  diplomacy  has  woven  for 
us.  The  heads  that  wear  the  crowns  must  also  wear  the  thorns. 
But  we  will  try  to  lighten  the  pain  to  one  another.  You  have  be- 
come my  wife  without  love,  and  I,  too,  have  become  your  Imsband 
— without  love. " 

Josepha's  head  fell,  she  sighed,  and  murmured  something  which 
Joseph  could  not  hear. 

He  went  on  :  "I  do  not  come  to  you  with  vain  pretensions  of  a 
man  who  fancies  he  has  won  an  honorable  woman's  heart  because 
the  priest  has  bid  them  love  one  another.  I  will  not  take  advantage 
of  the  rights  which  either  dijjlomacy  or  church  has  given  me  over 
you.  Here  at  least  there  shall  be  no  dissimulation  ;  here  we  shall 
both  be  privileged  to  avow  honestly  and  honorably  that  we  are  not 
lovers.  Then  let  us  be  friends.  I  come  to  you  in  all  frankness, 
offering  myself  to  be  to  you  as  a  brother.  Perliaps  it  may  come  to 
pass  that  I  win  your  love  ;  perchance  your  goodness  and  your  worth 
may  win  my  sad  heart  back  again  to  life — the  day  may  come  when 
we  shall  be  able  to  say  that  we  love  each  other.  Let  us  await  this 
day,  and  soften  the  interval  by  mutual  confidence  and  trust.  And 
should  it  ever  come  to  us,  Josepha,  we  will  tlien  seal  with  heart-felt 
embrace  the  bond  which  the  church  has  made  between  us  to-day. 
Take  me,  then,  as  brother  and  friend,  and  be  to  me  a  sister  and 
companion.     Will  you,  Josepha?" 

He  reached  out  his  hand,  and  looked  at  her  with  a  glance  of 
brotherly  kindness.  Slie  gave  him  hers  with  a  mournful  smile,  and 
her  eyes  sought  tlie  ground. 

"Welcome,  then,  my  friend  and  sister,"  said  Joseph  warmly. 
"Now  for  unreserved  confidence.  You  promise  me  that,  do  you 
not?" 

'•  I  promise, "  gasped  the  poor  girl. 

"And  you  will  open  your  heart  that  I  may  read  its  every  page?" 

"I  will — I  promise  to  keep  nothing  from  you." 

"I  promise  the  same  to  you,  and  perhaps  this  plant  of  friendship 
may  one  day  bear  the  flowers  of  love.  You  are  inexperienced  in 
the  ways  of  court-life.  You  will  need  a  pilot  to  steer  you  safe  amid 
reefs  and  breakers.  I  will  be  this  pilot  to  you,  I  will  teach  you 
what  to  suspect  and  to  avoid.  Above  all,  never  venture  to  have  an 
o]iinion  that  does  not  coincide  witli  that  of  the  empress.  We  are 
ail  a  i)ious  and  well-brouglit-up  family  who  see  with  her  eyes,  and 
liear  with  her  ears,  and  never  dare  confess  that  we  possess  sight  or 
liearing  in  our  own  persons.  Recollect  that  you,  too,  must  fall  in 
the  line  of  puppets,  and  give  up  j'our  senses  to  the  empress." 

"But  in  the  depths  of  my  own  lieart  I  trust  that  I  may  see  with 
the  eyes  of  the  King  of  Rome,"  replied  Jospplia  with  a  smile.  "For 
if  I  am  to  leai'n  from  you,  I  nmst  surely  dare  to  use  my  senses." 

"Yes  ;  but  let  no  one  suspect  that  you  learn  any  thing  from  me. 
In  tliis  court  we  tread  on  flowers  ;  and  if  one  of  our  flowers  chances 
to  witlier  we  cover  it  over  with  a  pater-nostcr,  and  that  makes  all 
right  again." 

"But  suppose  it  will  not  be  made  right?"  returned  Josepha. 
"Suppose  tliat  prayer  should  fail?" 

"Gracious  Heaven,  what  do  I  hear  !"  cried  Joseph.  "What  pro- 
fane doubt  are  you  so  bold  as  to  utter !    You  do  not  belong  to  the 


THE  aiARRIAGE  NIGHT.  113 

stupid,  pious  band,  who  think  that  prayer  cures  all  woes?  Poor 
Joseplia,  let  no  one  but  me  hear  such  heresy  from  your  lips — pray, 
pray  ;  or  make  believe  to  pray  ;  no  one  will  ever  ask  you  whether 
your  heart  is  in  it  or  not.  And  if  any  one  seeks  to  know,  answer 
nothing.     Pray  on,  and  mistrust  every  one." 

"  What !  mistrust  the  generous  friend  whom  kind  Providence  has 
given  to  me  this  day  !"  cried  Josepha  with  feeling.  "That  I  can 
never  do.  You  have  encouraged  me  to  confide  in  you,  and  even  had 
you  not  done  so,  you  would  have  won  my  confidence  unsought. " 

"I  am  glad  that  you  think  so, "  returned  Joseph.  "Let  us  begin 
at  once,  then.  Have  you  a  wish  that  I  have  it  in  my  power  to 
gratify?  Or  have  you  any  thing  in  your  lieart  which  you  will  con- 
tide  to  me  as  a  proof  of  your  faith  in  my  friendship?" 

Josepha  started,  and  her  cheeks  grew  white  with  fear.  This 
question  avv'akened  her  from  her  short  dream  of  hope  and  happiness, 
and  she  remembered  tliat  she  had  a  secret  which  it  was  her  duty  to 
reveal  to  her  husband.  She  looked  furtively  at  liim.  Perhaps  lie  had 
heard  something,  and  this  was  a  trial  of  her  trutli.  But  no  !  His 
face  was  tranquil  and  unsuspecting ;  there  was  nothing  searching 
in  the  glance  of  his  deep-blue  eyes.  No!  he  knew  nothing,  and 
wherefore  cloud  the  brightness  of  the  hour  with  a  confession  which 
might  crush  its  promise  of  future  bliss? 

"  Well, "  said  Joseph  kindly,  "  is  there  nothing  on  your  heart  that 
you  would  confide  to  your  friend?" 

"No!"  at  last  said  Josepha  resolutely.  "My  life  has  been  dull 
and  uneventful.  It  is  only  to-day  that  I  begin  to  live ;  the  sun  of 
hope  is  dawning  upon  ni}'  heart ;  I  feel  as  if  I  might — " 

"Hark!"  said  Joseph,  "I  think  I  hear  some  one  coming.  Yes; 
there  is  surely  a  light  tap  at  the  door. " 

The  king  rose  hastily  and  crossed  the  room  toward  the  little  side- 
door. 

"Is  any  one  there?"  asked  he  in  a  loud  tone  of  displeasure. 

"Yes,  your  majesty,"  whispered  a  trembling  voice,  "and  I  pray 
you  earnestly  to  open  the  door.  " 

"  It  is  my  valet  Anselmo, "  said  Joseph  to  the  princess,  while  he 
withdrew  the  bolt. 

It  was  Anselmo,  in  truth,  who,  with  mysterious  mien,  beckoned 
to  his  lord  to  come  out. 

"  Will  your  majesty  condescend  to  step  into  the  corrido;-,  that  I 
may  deliver  the  message  with  which  I  am  intrusted?"  said  the  valet. 

"Is  it  so  weighty,  Anselmo,  that  it  cannot  lie  upon  your  con- 
science until  morning?" 

"  Not  one  moment  can  I  defer  it,  your  majesty,  for  I  was  told 
that  your  majesty's  well-being  and  health  depended  upon  my 
speed. " 

The  king  stepped  outside  and  closed  the  door.  "  Who  sent  you 
hither,  Anselmo?"  asked  he. 

"  I  do  not  know,  sire,  but  I  suspect.  It  was  a  female  form  en- 
veloped in  a  long  black  cloak,  with  a  hood  which  concealed  her 
face.  She  came  from  the  gallery  which  leads  to  the  apartments  of 
their  iiuperial  highnesses,  your  majesty's  sisters,  and  entered  your 
majesty's  own  cabinet,  which  I  had  left  open  while  I  was  lighting 
your  majesty  hither. " 

"And  what  said  she?"  asked  the  king  impatiently. 

"  She  asked  if  your  majestj'  had  gone  into  the  queen's  apartments. 


114  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Wlien  I  told  her  that  you  had,  she  held  out  this  note  and  said : 
'  Speed  to  the  king,  and  as  you  value  his  health  and  welfare,  give 
him  this  note  at  once. '  She  disappeared,  and  here,  your  majesty, 
is  the  note. " 

The  king  took  the  paper,  which  by  the  dim  light  of  the  corridor 
he  could  not  read. 

"And  who  do  you  think  is  the  mysterious  lady,  Anselmo?" 
asked  he. 

"Sire,  I  do  not  know.  Perhaps  your  majesty  will  recognize  the 
handwriting." 

"I  wish  to  know,  Anselmo,  who  you  think  was  hidden  under 
that  cloak?" 

"Well,  then,  your  majesty,"  said  Anselmo,  in  a  whisper  scarcely 
audible,  "  I  think  it  was  the  Archduchess  Christina. " 

"  I  suspected  as  much, "  said  the  king  to  himself.  "  It  is  some 
intrigue  of  hers  against  the  Princess  Josepha,  whom  she  hates  be- 
cause I  selected  her  in  preference  to  the  sister  of  Christina's  lover, 
the  Elector  of  Saxony. "  * 

Perhaps  Anselmo  understood  a  few  words  of  this  soliloquy,  for 
he  continued  :  "  A  courier  arrived  from  Saxony,  and  I  was  told  by 
my  sister,  the  tire -woman  of  her  highness,  that  the  Archduchess 
Christina  had  received  a  packet  of  letters. " 

"  Very  well,  Anselmo, "  said  the  king,  "  if  to-morrow  you  should 
be  asked  whether  you  delivered  the  note,  say  that  I  tore  it  up  with- 
out opening  it.     Do  you  hear?" 

Dismissing  the  valet  with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  he  returned  to 
the  princess. 

"  Pardon  me, "  said  he,  "  for  leaving  you,  and  allow  me  in  your 
presence  to  read  a  note  which  has  just  been  mysteriously  delivered 
into  my  hands.  I  wish  to  give  you  a  proof  of  my  confidence,  by  in- 
trusting you  at  once  with  my  secrets. " 

So  saying,  he  approached  the  marble  centre-table,  and  opened 
the  letter. 

What  was  it  that  blanched  Josepha' s  cheek  and  made  her  tremble, 
as  Joseph  smiled  and  looked  at  her?  Why  did  she  stare  at  him 
while  he  read,  and  why  did  her  heart  stand  still  with  fright,  as  she 
saw  his  expression  change? 

He  seemed  shocked  at  the  contents  of  the  note,  and  when  he 
raised  liis  eyes  and  their  glance  met  that  of  Josepha,  she  saw  them 
filled  with  aversion  and  scorn. 

"Madame, "  said  he,  and  his  voice  had  grown  harsh,  "madame, 
I  asked  you  in  good  faith  whether  you  had  anything  to  confide  to 
my  ho7ior.  I  expressed  a  desire  to  win  your  confidence.  You 
answered  that  you  had  notliiug  to  tell.  Once  more  I  ask,  have  you 
any  thing  to  say?  Tlie  more  humiliating  the  confession,  the  more 
will  I  appreciate  your  candor.     Speak,  therefore." 

Josepha  answered  not  a  word.  Her  teeth  chattered  so  painfully 
that  she  could  not  articulate  ;  slie  trembled  so  violently  that  she  had 
to  grasp  tlie  back  f)f  an  arm-cliair  for  support. 

Joseph  saw  this,  and  he  laughed    a  hoarse  and  contemptuous 

*  The  Princess  Christina  was  in  love  with  the  Elector  of  Saxony;  but  the  Em- 

f)eror  Francis  was  opposed  to  the  niarriafr''.  Christina  used  all  her  influence  to 
)rintc  about  a  inarriase  between  lier  l)r()tlier  and  ;\Iary  KiniiKtinde.  tlie  sister  of  her 
lover,  liopinf;  thereby  to  pave  the  way  for  her  own  union  with  the  haudsonie  Albert. 
FniliiiK  in  tliis.  .shi>  besanie  the  bitter  enemy  of  the  unhappy  woman  to  whom  Joseph 
had  given  the  i)reference. 


THE  MARRIAGE  NIGHT.  115 

laugh.  She  did  not  ask  him  why  he  sneered.  She  threw  herself  at 
Ms  feet,  and  raised  her  arms  imploringly. 

"  Mercy, "  cried  the  unhappy  woman,  "  mercy !" 

He  laughed  again,  and  held  the  paper  before  her  eyes. 

"Read,  madame,  read!"  said  he  rudely. 

"I  cannot,"  sobbed  she.  "I  will  not  read  what  has  been  written 
of  me.  I  will  tell  you  myself  all  that  I  know.  I  will  confide  my 
secret  to  you  ;  I  will  indeed. " 

"  You  have  nothing  to  confide,  madame,"  cried  Joseph.  "With 
a  sincere  and  holy  desire  to  perform  my  duty,  I  asked  for  your 
friendship  and  your  confidence.  I  cast  them  both  back,  for  you 
have  allowed  the  hour  of  trust  to  go  by  !  Now  it  is  too  late  !  You 
are  accused.  Do  not  look  to  me  for  protection  ;  vindicate  yourself 
if  you  can.  Read  this  letter,  and  tell  me  if  the  writer  speaks  the 
truth. " 

Josepha  still  knelt  at  his  feet ;  but  her  arms  had  fallen  in  de- 
spair. She  knew  that  she  had  nothing  more  to  hope  from  her  hus- 
band :  she  felt  that  she  was  about  to  be  sentenced  to  a  life  of  utter 
misery. 

"You  will  not  read?"  said  Joseph,  as  unnoticed,  Josepha  lay  at 
his  feet.  "  If  so,  I  must  read  the  letter  for  you  myself.  It  warns  me 
not  to  come  too  near  to  your  royal  person.     It — " 

"I  will  spare  you,  sire,"  exclaimed  she,  as  with  the  energy  of 
despair  she  rose  to  her  feet.  "  You  will  not  let  me  speak,  you  shaU 
see  for  yourself !" 

With  a  frantic  gesture,  she  tore  her  dress  from  her  neck  anl 
shoulders,  and  heedless  that  she  stood  with  arms  and  bosom  exposed, 
she  let  it  fall  to  the  floor,  and  bowed  her  head  as  if  to  receive  the 
stroke  of  the  headsman's  axe. 

"  Know  my  secret, "  said  she,  as  she  folded  her  hands  and  stood 
before  her  outraged  husband.  "And  now  hear  me.  A  few  months 
ago  I  had  a  beloved  brother,  whom  I  loved  the  more  that  lie  was  un- 
fortunate and  afilicted.  From  his  childhood  he  had  suffered  from  a 
malady  which  his  physicians  called  leprosy.  The  very  servants 
deserted  him,  for  it  was  said  that  the  disease  was  contagious.  I 
loved  my  brother  with  devotion ;  I  went  to  him,  and  nursed  him 
until  he  died.  God  shielded  me,  for  I  did  not  take  the  malady. 
But  on  my  neck  and  back  there  came  dark  spots  which,  although 
they  are  painful,  are  not  contagious.  My  physicians  told  me  that 
my  strong  constitution  had  rejected  the  leprosy,  and  these  spots 
were  a  regeneration  of  my  skin,  which  would  soon  disappear.  This, 
sire,  is  my  fatal  secret ;  and  now  judge  me.  It  is  in  your  powei-  to 
make  me  the  happiest  of  mortals,  by  granting  me  a  generous  pardon  ; 
but  I  will  not  complain  if  you  condemn  and  despise  me." 

"Complain  if  you  choose,  it  is  indifferent  to  me,"  cried  Joseph, 
with  a  hoarse  laugh.  "  Never  in  this  world  shall  you  be  my  wife. 
If  the  hateful  tie  that  binds  me  to  you  cannot  be  unloosed,  I  will 
make  you  answerable  for  every  day  of  disgust  and  misery  that  I  am 
forced  to  pass  under  the  same  roof  with  you.  If  I  am  cursed  before 
the  world  with  the  name  of  your  husband,  I  shall  punish  you  in 
secret  with  my  everlasting  hate. " 

As  if  stricken  by  lightning,  she  fell  to  the  floor.  Her  fallen 
dress  exposed  to  view  her  beautiful  form.  Her  arms,  which  were 
folded  above  her  head,  were  round  and  white  as  those  of  a  Greek 
statue  ;  and  as  she  lay  with  her  full,  graceful  shoulders  bared  almost 


116  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

to  the  waist,  she  looked  like  Niobe  just  stricken  by  the  wrath  of  a 
god. 

Joseph  was  uumiudful  of  this.  He  had  no  sympathj^  with  the 
noble  sacrifice  which  her  loving  heart  had  offered  to  a  dying  brother. 
He  saw  neither  her  youth  nor  her  grace  ;  he  saw  but  those  dark  spots 
upon  her  back,  and  he  shuddered  as  she  raised  her  arm  to  clasp  his 
feet. 

"Do  not  touch  me, "  exclaimed  he,  starting  back.  "Your  touch 
is  pollution.  We  are  forever  divorced.  To  day  the  priest  joined 
our  hands  together,  but  to-night  I  part  them  never  more  to  meet. 
Farewell. " 

And  hurling  at  her  prostrate  form  the  letter  which  had  betrayed 
her,  he  turned  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

AN  UNHAPPY  MARRIAGE. 

It  was  the  morning  after  the  wedding.  Maria  Tlieresa  had  just 
completed  her  toilet,  and  was  smiling  at  her  own  beautiful  image 
reflected  in  the  looking-glass.  She  looked  every  inch  an  empress  in 
her  rich  crimson  velvet  dress,  with  its  long  and  graceful  train,  and 
its  border  of  ermine.  Her  superb  blond  hair  had  been  exquisitely 
dressed  by  her  little  favorite  Charlotte  von  Hieronymus.  It  was 
sprinkled  witli  gold-powder,  and  the  coiffure  was  heightened  by  a 
little  cap  of  crimson  velvet,  attached  to  the  hair  by  arrows  of  gold 
set  with  costly  brilliants.  The  complexion  of  the  empress  was  so 
lovely,  that  she  never  wore  j-oiige ;  and  surely  such  eyes  as  hers 
needed  none  of  the  "adulteries  of  art"  to  heighten  their  brilliancy 
or  beauty.  Although  she  was  in  her  forty-ninth  year,  and  had 
given  birth  to  sixteen  children,  Maria  Theresa  was  still  beautiful ; 
not  only  youthful  in  appearance,  but  youthful  in  heart,  and  in  the 
strength  and  greatness  of  her  intellect.  She  loved  the  emperor  as 
fondlj-  as  she  had  done  twenty -eight  years  before,  and  each  of  her 
ten  living  cliildren  was  as  dear  to  her  maternal  heart  as  if  each  had 
been  an  only  child. 

She  liad  arrayed  herself  with  unusual  magnificence  to  celebrate 
the  entry  of  the  newly-married  couple  into  Vienna.  The  imperial 
cortege  was  to  stop  at  the  cathedral  of  St.  Steplieu,  there  to  witness 
the  bridals  of  twenty-five  young  couples,  all  of  whom  the  empress 
had  dowered  in  honor  of  her  son's  second  marriage. 

"Surely  the  prayers  of  these  fifty  lovers  will  bring  happiness 
upon  the  heads  of  my  son  and  his  wife,"  said  the  emj^ress  to  herself. 
"They  need  prayers  indeed,  for  poor  Josepha  is  very  unlike  oiir 
peerless  Isabella,  and  I  fear  she  will  not  be  attractive  enougli  to 
cause  the  dead  to  1)(>  forgotten.  Still,  she  seems  mild  and  kind- 
hearted,  and  I  have  already  read  in  her  eyes  that  she  is  in  love  with 
Joseph.  I  liope  this  will  lead  him  to  love  her  in  return.  Some- 
times a  man  will  love  a  woman  through  pitv,  afterward  through 
habit." 

A  nervous  and  impatient  knock  at  her  door  interrupted  the  cur- 
rent of  the  empress's  thoughts  ;  the  door  was  flimg  open  without 
further  ceremony,  and  the  King  of  Rome  entered  the  room.     He 


AN  UNHAPPY  MARRIAGE.  11? 

was  pale  and  agitated,  and  to  his  mother's  affectionate  welcome  he 
replied  by  a  deep  inclination  of  the  head. 

The  empress  perceived  at  once  that  something  was  wrong,  and 
her  heart  beat  rapidly. 

,     "  My  dear  boy, "  said  she,  "  you  do  not  wear  a  holiday  face,  and 
your  young  bride — " 

"I  have  no  bride,"  inteiTupted  Joseph,  angrily.  "I  have  come 
to  beg  of  your  majesty  to  discontinue  these  rejoicings,  or  at  least 
to  excuse  me  from  appearing  in  public  at  the  side  of  the  Princess  of 
Bavaria.     She  is  not  my  wife,  nor  ever  shall  be  !" 

"What  means  this?"  stammered  the  empi'ess,  bewildered. 

"  It  means  that  my  marriage  is  null  and  void  ;  and  that  no  human 
power  shall  force  me  to  be  husband  of  a  creature  tainted  with 
leprosy." 

The  empress  uttered  a  cry  of  horror. 

"My  son,  my  son!"  exclaimed  she,  "what  xmheard-of  charge  is 
thisV" 

"A  charge  which  is  a  miserable  ti'uth,  your  majesty.  Do  you 
not  remember  to  have  heard  that  the  natural  son  of  Charles  of  Ba- 
varia had  died,  not  long  ago,  of  leprosy  which  he  had  contracted 
during  a  journey  to  the  East?  Well,  his  tender  and  self-sacrificing 
half-sister  volunteered  to  nurse  him,  and  was  with  him  until  he 
died.  Your  majesty,  no  doubt,  will  look  upon  this  as  something 
very  fine  and  Christian-like.  I,  on  the  contrary,  would  have  found 
it  more  honorable,  if  the  princess  had  advised  us  of  the  legacy  she 
wears  upon  her  back. " 

"  Woe  to  her  and  to  the  house  of  Bavaria,  if  jou  speak  the  truth, 
my  son  !"  cried  the  empress,  indignantly. 

"  If  your  majesty  will  send  Van  Swieten  to  her,  you  may  con- 
vince yourself  of  the  fact. " 

A  few  moments  later  Van  Swieten  entered  the  room.  His  fame 
was  European.  He  was  well  known  as  a  man  of  great  skill  and 
science  ;  added  to  this,  his  noble  frankness  and  high  moral  worth 
had  greatly  endeared  him  to  the  imperial  family.  Maria  Theresa 
went  hastily  forward  to  meet  him. 

"Van  Swieten,"  said  she,  with  a  voice  trembling  from  agitation, 
"you  have  been  our  friend  in  many  an  hour  of  sorrow,  and  many 
a  secret  of  the  house  of  Hapsburg  has  been  faithfully  buried  in  your 
loyal  heart.  Help  me  again,  and,  above  all,  let  it  be  in  secrecy. 
The  King  of  Rome  says  fearful  things  of  his  wife.  I  will  not  be- 
lieve them  imtil  I  hear  your  verdict.  Go  at  once,  I  implore  you,  to 
the  princess,  and  command  her,  in  mj^  name,  to  declare  her  malady. " 

"  But,  your  majesty,  she  has  not  called  for  my  advice, "  replied 
Van  Swieten,  with  surprise. 

"Then  she  mvist  take  it  unasked,"  said  the  empress.  "The  prin- 
cess will  receive  you,  and  you  will  know  how  to  win  her  to  reveal 
her  condition.     As  soon  as  you  leave  her,  return  to  me." 

Van  Swieten  bowed  and  left  the  room.  The  empress  and  her  son 
remained  together.  Neither  spoke  a  word.  The  King  of  Rome 
stood  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  looking  sullenly  up  at  the  sky. 
The  empress  walked  hurriedly  to  and  fro,  careless  that  her  violent 
motions  were  filling  her  dress  with  the  gold  powder  that  fell  from 
her  head  like  little  showers  of  stars. 

"  Christina  was  right  to  warn  me, "  said  she,  after  a  long  pause. 
*  I  never  should  have  consented  to  this  alliance  with  the  daughter 


118  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

of  my  enemy.  It  is  of  no  use  to  patch  up  old  enmities.  Charles 
was  humbled  and  defeated  by  me,  and  now  comes  this 
Josepha  to  revenge  her  father's  losses,  and  to  bring  sorrow  to  my 
child.  Oh,  my  sou,  why  did  you  not  follow  my  counsel,  and  marry 
the  Princess  of  Saxony?  But  it  is  useless  to  reproach  j^ou.  The 
evil  is  done — let  us  consult  together  how  best  we  may  bear  it. " 

"Not  at  all!"  cried  Joseph.  "We  must  consult  how  we  may 
soonest  cast  it  away  from  us.  Your  majesty  will  never  require  of 
me  the  sacrifice  of  remaining  bound  to  that  woman.  I  obeyed  your 
behest ;  and  in  spite  of  my  disinclination  to  a  second  marriage,  I 
bent  my  will  before  the  necessities  of  diplomacy,  and  the  command 
of  mj'  sovereign.  But  we  are  now  on  a  ground  where  the  duty  of  a 
subject  ends,  and  the  honor  of  a  man  stands  preeminent.  I  never 
will  consent  to  be  the  husband  of  this  woman  whose  person  is  dis- 
gusting to  me.  Far  above  all  claims  of  political  expediency,  I  hold 
my  right  as  a  man. " 

"But  you  hold  them  with  unbecoming  language, "  replied  the 
empi'ess,  who  did  not  at  all  relish  the  tone  of  the  King  of  Rome. 
"And  let  me  tell  you,  my  royal  son,  that  an  upright  and  honorable 
prince  thinks  less  of  his  rights  as  a  man  than  of  his  duties  as  a  ruler. 
He  strives,  while  a  prince,  to  be  a  man  ;  and  while  a  man,  to  sacri- 
fice his  inclinations  to  the  calls  of  a  princely  station." 

"But  not  his  personal  honor, "  cried  Joseph.  "Your  majesty's 
code  is  that  of  Macchiavelli,  who  counsels  a  prince  rever  to  let  his 
feelings  as  a  man  interfere  with  his  policy  as  a  ruler. " 

The  empress  was  about  to  make  an  angry  rejoinder  to  this  remark, 
when  the  door  oi^ened,  and  Van  Swieten  reappeared. 

"Ah  !"  said  the  empress,  "did  you  see  her,  Van  Swieten?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty, "  replied  Van  Swieten,  with  emphasis,  "I 
have  seen  the  Queen  of  Rome. " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  she  has  no  disease  that  unfits  her  to  be 
the  wife  of  the  King  of  Rome?"  asked  Maria  Theresa. 

"Her  onl}-  malady  is  a  cutaneous  one,  which  in  a  short  time  will 
be  completely  cured.  Some  persons  are  so  happily  organized  that 
they  throw  off  disease,  even  when  in  contact  with  it.  The  princess 
possesses  this  sound  and  healthy  organization.  The  poison  which 
she  inhaled  by  her  brother's  bedside,  has  settled  upon  her  skin  in  a 
harmless  eruption — her  constitution  is  untouched.  In  a  few  weeks 
all  trace  of  it  will  disappear,  and  nothing  will  remain  to  remind  us 
of  her  noble  disregard  of  self,  save  the  memory  of  her  heroism  and 
magnanimity.  For,  indeed,  your  majesty,  it  is  easier  to  confront 
death  on  the  battle-field  than  to  face  it  in  the  jiestiferous  atmos- 
pliere  of  a  sick-room." 

Maria  Theresa  tiu-ned  with  a  radiant  smile  toward  her  son.  "  You 
see.  my  son, "  said  she,  "  that  you  have  done  injustice  to  your  noble 
wife.     Go,  then,  and  entreat  her  forgiveness." 

"  No,  your  majesty, "  said  a  soft  voice  behind  them,  "  it  is  for  me 
to  implore  my  husl)and's  forgiveness." 

The  empress  turn<'(l  and  l)eheld  her  daughter-in-law,  splendidly 
attired,  but  pale  and  wan  witli  immistakable  grief. 

"Josepha,  how  came  you  hither?"  asked  she. 

" I  followed  Herr  van  Swieten, "  replied  Josepha.  "He  told  me 
that  your  majesty  ;nid  tb(>  King  of  Rome  were  here,  awaiting  his 
verdict,  and  I  judged  from  his  maimer  that  it  would  be  in  my  favor. 
Therefore  I  came,  and  having  heard  his  flattering  words,  which  I 


AN  UNHAPPY   MARRIAGE.  119 

do  not  deserve,  I  am  here  to  inculpate  myself.  No,  Herr  van 
Swieten,  if  there  were  any  merit  in  suffering  for  a  brother  whom  I 
dearly  loved,  it  would  all  be  effaced  by  tlie  wrong  which  I  have  done 
to  the  King  of  Rome.  I  feel  that  I  was  guilty  in  not  confiding  my 
malady  to  your  majesty,  and  I  bow  my  head  before  the  justice  of 
my  pvinishment,  severe  though  it  may  be. " 

"  It  shall  not  be  severe,  my  daughter, "  said  the  empress,  whose 
kind  heart  was  completely  overcome  by  Josepha's  humility — "I,  for 
my  part,  forgive  you  ;  you  are  already  sufficiently  punished. " 

"  I  thank  your  majesty, "  returned  Josepha,  kissing  her  out  • 
stretched  hand.  "It  is  easy  for  one  so  magnanimous,  to  pardon  the 
guilty  ;  but  my  husband,  will  he  also  forgive  me?" 

She  turned  her  pale  and  imploring  face  toward  Joseph,  who,  with 
his  arms  crossed,  looked  scornfully  back. 

"No, "said  she  sadly,  "no.  To  obtain  his  forgiveness,  I  must 
make  a  full  confession  of  my  fault. " 

She  approached  the  window,  but  her  head  was  cast  down  so  that 
she  did  not  see  with  what  a  look  of  hate  Joseph  beheld  her  advanc- 
ing toward  liim. 

"  To  obtain  your  pardon,  sire, "  said  she,  "  I  must  say  why  I  de- 
ceived you.  It  was  because  I  prefen-ed  perjury  to  the  loss  of  my 
earthly  happiness — tlie  unspeakable  happiness  of  being  your  wife. 
I  was  afraid  of  losing  my  treasure.  For  I  love  you  beyond  all  power 
of  expression  ;  from  the  first  moment  of  our  meeting,  I  have  loved 
you,  and  this  love  which,  thanks  to  Almighty  God,  I  have  a  right 
to  avow  before  the  world — this  love  it  was  that  misled  me.  Oh,  my 
husband,  have  mercy,  and  forgive  the  fault  that  was  born  of  my  ex- 
cessive love  for  you.  A  whole  life  of  love  and  obedience  shall  atone 
for  my  sin.     Forgive  me,  forgive  me,  for  the  sake  of  my  love  !" 

And,  overwhelmed  by  her  grief,  the  princess  knelt  at  the  feet 
of  her  husband,  and  raised  her  hands  in  supplication  for  pardon. 

The  empress  looked  on  with  sympathetic  heart  and  tearful  eyes  ; 
she  expected  at  every  moment  to  see  Joseph  raise  up  his  wife,  and 
press  her  to  his  heart  for  her  touching  avowal  of  love.  She  expected 
to  hear  him  implore  forgiveness  ;  but  she  was  sadly  mistaken. 

Joseph  stood  immovable,  his  eyes  flashing  scorn  and  fury  at  the 
kneeling  princess  before  him. 

This  outraged  all  the  pride  of  Maria  Theresa's  womanhood. 
Hastily  approaching  Josepha,  and  stretching  her  arms  toward  her, 
she  said  :  "  If  Joseph  has  no  mercy  in  his  obdurate  heart,  I  at  least 
will  not  witness  such  humiliation  on  the  part  of  his  wife.  Rise, 
my  daughter,  and  take  shelter  under  my  love  ;  I  will  not  suffer  you 
to  be  oppressed — not  even  by  my  own  son." 

She  would  liave  raised  Josepha,  but  the  poor  girl  waved  her 
gently  back.  "  No,  dear  lady, "  said  she,  sobbing,  "  let  me  remain 
until  he  forgives  me. " 

"  Let  her  remain,  your  majesty,  "•  cried  Joseph  with  a  burst  of 
wrath,  "  she  is  in  her  pi-oper  pl^ce.  But  if  she  means  to  kneel  until 
she  has  obtained  my  forgiveness,  let  her  kneel  throughout  all  eter- 
nity !  I  consented  to  this  maiTiage  for  expediency's  sake,  and  I 
would  have  done  my  best  to  make  tlie  burden  as  light  for  us  both  as 
lay  in  my  power.  Your  majesty  knows  how  she  has  deceived  me  ; 
you  have  heard  her  pitiful  lie  with  its  pitiful  excuse.  I  might  have 
forgiven  her  for  marrying  me,  with  her  disgusting  disease,  but  for 
being  a  liar — never !" 

g 


120  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Enough,"  cried  the  empress,  as  much  excited  by  her  son's  ob- 
duracy as  by  Josepha's  touching  confession.  "  This  scene  must  end, 
and  so  help  me  God,  it  shall  never  be  enacted  a  second  time  !  You 
are  bound  to  one  another  for  life,  and  together  you  shall  remain. 
Each  mortal  has  his  weight  of  grief  to  bear.  Bear  yours  in  silence, 
and  bear  it  as  becomes  your  dignity  and  station.  Have  the  manli- 
ness to  smile  before  the  world,  my  son,  as  beseems  a  prince  who  has 
more  regard  for  his  princely  duties  than  for  his  rights  as  a  man  to 
happiness." 

And  with  that  imposing  grandeur  which  Maria  Theresa  knew  so 
well  how  to  assume,  she  continued  :  "  Rise,  Queen  of  Rome,  and 
never  again  forget  either  your  own  royal  station  or  the  dignity  of 
your  womanhood.  Give  her  your  hand,  my  son ;  if  you  will  not 
love,  you  must  at  least  lionor  and  respect  your  wife.  The  bells  of 
Vienna  even  now  are  pealing  your  w^elcome  ;  the  people  await  their 
sovereigns,  and  it  does  not  become  us  to  keep  them  in  suspense  on 
such  an  occasion  as  this. " 

Without  looking  back  to  see  the  effect  of  her  words,  the  empress 
left  the  room,  and  called  to  her  pages  to  fling  wide  the  palace  doors. 

"  Apprise  the  court  that  we  are  ready  to  move, "  said  she,  in  a 
commanding  voice,  "and  let  the  carriages  approach." 

The  pages  threw  open  the  wide  doors  ;  the  emperor  and  the  arch- 
duchesses entered,  and  following  them  came  the  courtiers  and  ladies 
of  the  imperial  household  in  alfthe  splendor  of  flashing  jewels  and 
costly  robes. 

The  empress,  with  unruffled  serenity,  advanced  to  meet  them. 
Not  once  were  her  eyes  cast  behind  toward  the  unhappy  couple, 
whom  she  knew  perfectly  well  had  yielded  to  the  force  of  circum- 
stances, and  were  already  throwing  the  veil  of  etiquette  and  courtly 
deconun  over  their  bleeding  hearts. 

An  hour  later  the  imperial  family  made  its  entry  into  Vienna. 
In  her  gilded  state-carriage  sat  the  proud  and  beautiful  empress, 
and  at  her  side  was  the  pale  Queen  of  Rome.  On  either  side  of  the 
carriage  rode  the  two  husbands,  the  Emperor  Francis  of  Lorraine 
and  the  King  of  Rome.  The  people  once  more  shouted  for  joy, 
wishing  long  life  to  the  imperial  pair,  and  joy  to  the  newly-married 
couple.  From  one  side  to  another  the  empress  and  the  queen  bowed 
and  smiled  to  all,  while  the  King  of  Rome  thanked  the  enrajitured 
Viennese  for  their  welcome.  On  this  day  appeared  a  new  color  in 
Vienna,  so  called  in  honor  of  Joseph's  deep-blue  eyes  ;  it  was  called 
"  imperial  blue." 

And  the  bells  chimed  ;  the  cannon  roared  ;  while  in  the  cathedral 
th(>  fiftv  lovers  awaited  the  King  and  Queen  of  Rome,  whose  mar- 
riage filled  all  hearts  with  joy,  and  seemed  to  realize  every  dream 
of  hajjpiness  on  earth. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

A  STATESMAN'S  HOURS  OF   DALLIANCE. 

"Are  there  many  people  in  the  anteroom?"  asked  Prince  Kaunitz 
of  the  state  referendarius,  Baron  Binder. 

"Yes,  your  highness, "  returned  Binder,  "all  waiting  impatiently 
for  your  appearance. " 


A  STATESMAN'S   HOURS  OF  DALLIANCE.  121 

"Let  them  wait,  the  stupid,  stiaitting  representatives  of  little- 
ness !  The  more  insignificant  the  petty  masters,  the  more  conceited 
are  the  petty  ambassadors.  I  have  no  time  to  see  them  to-day.  We 
are  at  peace  with  the  whole  world,  and  our  only  diplomacy  regards 
marrying  and  giving  in  marriage. " 

"So  far  you  have  nothing  to  boast  of  in  that  line, "  said  Binder, 
laughing.  "  There  are  all  sorts  of  stories  afloat  about  the  unhappy 
marriage  of  the  King  of  Rome.  Some  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  he 
sliows  his  dislike  in  public." 

"Bah!  what  matters  it  whether  a  prince  is  a  happy  husband  or 
not?  When  a  king  sets  up  pretensions  to  conjugal  felicity,  he  is 
either  an  egotist  or  a  fool.  If  the  King  of  Rome  cannot  love  his 
good,  stupid,  ugly  wife,  he  can  make  love  to  the  dowry  she  brings 
him.  A  goodly  inheritance  comes  with  her;  what  matters  it  if  a 
v.-oman  be  thrown  into  the  bargain?" 

"Ah,  prince,  a  woman  is  sometimes  harder  to  conquer  than  a 
province  ;  and  I  think  the  King  of  Rome  would  much  rather  have 
won  his  Bavaria  with  the  sword." 

"Because  he  is  a  blockhead  full  of  sublime  nonsense,  who  mis- 
takes his  love  of  novelty  for  wisdom.  He  would  break  his  head 
against  a  wall,  this  obstinate  King  of  Rome,  while  I  crept  safely 
through  a  mouse-hole.  Walls  are  not  so  easilj^  battered  down  as  he 
supposes  ;  but  mouse-holes  abound  everywhere,  as  this  sapient  king 
will  find  out  some  of  these  days.  It  was  much  easier  for  us  to  creep 
into  Bavaria  Avith  tlie  lielp  of  the  lovely  Josepha,  than  to  flourish 
our  sword  in  her  brother's  face.  He  has  not  long  to  live,  and  we 
shall  come  peacefully  in  possession  of  his  fair  province. " 

"Or  rather,  the  war  for  its  possession  will  be  waged  in  the  king's 
private  apartments." 

"On  that  silly  subject  again  !"  exclaimed  Kaunitz,  impatiently. 
"If  your  heart  bleeds  so  freely  for  the  sentimental  sorrows  of  the 
King  of  Rome,  you  may  have  another  opportunity  for  your  sensi- 
bilities in  the  marriage  of  his  brother  Leopold  ;  for  I  assure  you 
that  his  intended  is  not  one  whit  handsomer,  or  more  intelligent, 
than  Josepha  of  Bavaria.  So  you  see  that  the  King  of  Rome  will 
not  be  apt  to  envy  his  brother. " 

"Your  highness  is  to  escort  the  Infanta  of  Spain  to  Innspruck?" 

"  Not  I,  indeed  ;  that  honor  I  do  not  confer  upon  insignificant 
princesses  who  are  nothing  but  grand-duchesses  elect.  I  go  to 
Innspruck  one  day  sooner  than  the  imperial  family,  to  inspect  the 
preparations  lor  the  festivities,  and  tlieu  I  shall  go  as  far  as  the 
gates  of  Innspruck — no  farther,  to  receive  Donna  ]\Iaria  Louisa.  " 

"Tliat  is  the  reason  why  your  levee  is  so  crowded  to-day, "  replied 
Binder  laughing.  "  The  foreign  ministers  wish  to  take  leave  of  their 
master.     And  now  they  have  waited  long  enough  for  you,  prince. " 

"I  shall  not  see  one  of  them.  Austria,  thanks  to  me,  is  now  so 
powerful,  that  I  need  give  myself  no  concern  to  soothe  the  anger  of 
a  dozen  petty  envoys,  and  to-day  there  are  none  other  in  the  ante- 
room. " 

"The  Dutch  and  Saxon  ministers,"  urged  Binder. 

"Little  nobodies, "  said  Kaunitz,  with  a  shrug.  "I  will  not  see 
them. " 

"But,  indeed,  you  presume  too  much  upon  their  littleness.  Only 
yesterday  you  invited  tlie  Hessian  ambassador  to  dine,  and  then  you 
sat  down  to  table  without  him. " 


122  JOSEPH   II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"He  was  three  minutes  behind  the  time.  And  do  you  imagine 
that  Prince  Kaunitz  waits  for  a  poor  little  Hessian  envoy?  I  did  it 
on  purpose  to  teach  him  punctuality. " 

Here  the  prince  rang  a  bell,  and  ordered  a  page  to  dismiss  the 
gentlemen  in  the  anteroom.* 

Baron  Binder  looked  after  the  page  and  shook  liis  head.  Kaunitz 
smiled.  "  Enough  of  ambassadors  for  to-day.  The  ship  of  Austria 
lies  proudly  and  safely  in  the  haven  of  her  own  greatness ;  and 
would  you  deprive  the  pilot  of  a  few  liours  of  relaxation?  I  shall 
have  to  take  the  helm  again  to-morrow,  when  I  go  to  Innspruck, 
and  do  you  grumble  if  for  a  few  hours  I  enjoy  life  to-day?" 

"I  was  not  aware  that  dismissing  one's  visitors  was  a  way  to 
enjoy  life, "  said  Binder. 

"  I  do  not  mean  that,  you  old  pedant.  Do  you  hear  that  tapping 
at  the  door?" 

"  Yes,  I  hear  it.  It  is  from  the  little  private  door  that  leads  to 
the  corridor." 

"  Well,  tliat  corridor,  as  you  know,  leads  to  a  side-entrance  of 
the  palace,  and  if  you  look  out  of  the  window  you  will  see  there  the 
equipage  of  the  liandsomest,  frailest,  aud  most  fascinating  actress 
in  all  Vienna — the  equipage  of  the  divine  Foliazzi.  Hear  how  the 
knocking  grows  louder.     My  charmer  becomes  impatient. " 

"  Allow  me  to  retire,  then, "  said  Binder,  "  and  leave  the  field  to 
the  prima  donna."  As  he  left  the  room,  lie  mvittered  :  "If  Kaunitz 
were  not  a  great  statesman,  he  would  be  a  ridiculous  old  fop  !" 

Kaunitz  listened  with  perfect  unconcern  to  the  repeated  knock- 
ing of  his  cliarmer  until  Binder  was  out  of  sight,  then  lie  walked  up 
to  the  looking-glass,  smoothed  his  locks,  straightened  his  ruffles, 
and  drew  the  bolt  of  the  door.  Tlie  beautiful  Foliazzi,  in  a  coquet- 
tish and  most  becoming  morning- costume,  radiant  with  smiles  and 
beauty,  entered  the  room. 

Kaunitz  greeted  her  coldly,  and  answered  her  rapturous  saluta- 
tion ])y  a  faint  nod.  "  Your  impatience  is  very  annoying,  Olympia, " 
said  he  ;  "you  beat  upon  my  door  like  a  drum-major." 

"  Your  higlmess,  it  is  the  impatience  of  a  longing  heart,"  said 
the  singer.  "  Do  you  know  that  it  seems  to  me  a  thousand  years 
since  last  I  was  allowed  to  enter  these  gates  of  Paradise  !  For  eight 
days  I  have  been  plunged  in  deepest  sorrow,  watcliing  your  carriage 
as  it  passed  by  my  house,  snatching  every  note  from  my  footman's 
hands  in  the  ho{)e  tliat  it  might  be  one  from  you — hoiking  in  vain, 
and  at  last  yielded  myself  up  to  fell  despair." 

"  You  express  yourself  warmly,  "  said  Kaunitz,  unmoved. 

"  Yes,  indeed  ;  for  a  feeling  lieart  always  tiiids  strong  ex])ression, '' 
answered  thc^  signora,  showing  a  row  of  teeth  beLwcen  her  rosy  lijts 
that  looked  like  precious  pearls.  "And  now  my  adored  reprobate, 
why  have  you  banished  me  from  your  presence  for  an  eternity? 
Which  of  my  two  enemies  have  prevailed  against  me,  politics  or  the 
Countess  Clary?  Justify  yourself,  unkind  I)nt  beloved  prince  ;  say 
that  you  have  not  deceived  me,  for  my  heart  yearns  to  forgive  you?" 

She  came  very,  very  near,  and  with  her  bewitching  smiles  looked 
up  into  Kaunitz's  face. 

Kaunitz  bent  to  receive  the  caress,  and  laid  his  hand  fondly  upon 
her  raven  black  hair.  "  Is  it  true  that  you  liave  longed  for  me — vei-y 
true  indeed?"  said  he. 

*  Report  of  the  Prussian  ambassador  Baron  I'''iirKt  to  Frederick  II. 


A  STATESMAN'S  HOUES  OF  DALLIANCE.  123 

"  I  never  knew  how  dear  you  were  to  me  until  I  had  endured  the 
intolerable  pangs  of  your  absence, "  replied  Foliazzi,  leaning  her 
head  upon  the  prince's  shoulder. 

"You  love  me,  then,  Olympia?    Tell  me,  dearest,  tell  me  truly?" 

"Unjust !  You  ask  me  such  a  question  !"  cried  the  signora,  put- 
ting her  arms  around  the  prince's  neck.  "If  I  love  you?  Do  you 
not  feel  it  in  every  pulsation  of  my  heart?  do  you  not  read  it  in 
every  glance  of  my  eyes?  Can  you  not  feel  that  my  only  thought  is 
of  you — my  only  life,  your  love?" 

"  I  am  really  glad  to  hear  it, "  said  Kaunitz,  with  statue-like 
tranquillity.  "  And  now  I  will  tell  you  why  I  have  not  sent  for  you 
this  past  week.  It  was  that  I  might  not  interrupt  your  tender  in- 
terviews with  Count  Palffy,  nor  frighten  away  the  poor  enamoured 
fool  from  the  snares  you  were  laying  for  liim." 

The  signora  looked  perfectly  astounded.  "But  surely,"  stam- 
mered she,  "  j'our  liighness  does  not  believe — " 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  believe  nothing  ;  I  know  that  the  Olympia  who  loves 
me  so  passionately,  has  been  for  two  days  the  fair  friend  of  the 
young,  rich,  and  prodigal  Count  Palffy." 

Here  the  signora  laughed  outright.  "But,  your  highness,  if  you 
knew  tliis,  why  did  you  not  stop  me  in  my  protestations,  and  tell 
me  so?" 

"I  only  wanted  to  see  whether,  really,  you  were  a  finished 
actress.  I  congratulate  you,  Olympia ;  I  could  not  have  done  it 
better  myself. " 

"Prince, "  said  the  signora,  seriously,  "I  learned  the  whole  of 
this  scene  from  yourself  ;  and  in  my  relations  with  you  I  have  fol- 
lowed the  example  you  gave  me.  While  you  swore  eternal  love  to 
me,  you  were  making  declarations  to  the  Countess  Clary.  Oh,  my 
lord,  I  have  suffered  at  your  hands,  and  the  whole  world  sympa- 
thizes with  my  disappointment!  The  whole  world  knows  of  your 
double  dealings  with  women,  and  calls  you  a  heartless  young 
libertine. " 

"Does  it?"  cried  Kaunitz,  for  a  moment  forgetting  his  coldness, 
and  showing  his  satisfaction  in  his  face.  "  Does  it,  indeed,  call  me 
a  heartless  young  libertine?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  signora,  who  seemed  not  to  see  his  gratifica- 
tion. "  And  when  people  see  a  man  who  is  adored  by  women,  and 
is  false  to  them  all,  they  say,  'He  is  a  little  Kaunitz. '" 

Wlien  the  signoi'a  said  this,  Kaunitz  did  what  he  had  not  done 
for  years,  he  broke  out  into  a  laugh,  repeating  triumphantly,  "  A 
little  Kaunitz.  But  mark  you,"  continued  he,  "other  libertines  are 
called  little  Kaunitzes,    but  I  alone  am  the  great  Kaunitz. " 

"True,"  sighed  the  signora,  "and  this  great  Kaunitz  it  is  who 
has  abandoned  me.  While  I  worshipped  the  air  he  breathed,  he  sat 
at  the  feet  of  the  Countess  Clary,  repeating  to  her  the  self-same  pro- 
testations witli  which  an  liour  before  he  had  intoxicated  my  senses. 
Oh,  when  I  heard  tliis,  jealousy  and  despair  took  possession  of  my 
soul.  I  was  resolved  to  be  revenged,  and  so  I  permitted  the  advances 
of  Count  Palffy.  Ha!  while  I  endured  his  presence,  I  felt  that  my 
heart  was  wholly  and  forever  yours  !  Oh,  my  adored,  my  great 
Kaunitz,  say  that  you  love  me,  and  at  your  feet  I  throw  all  the  lesser 
Kaunitzes  in  token  of  my  fealtj^ !" 

The  signora  woidd  have  flung  her  arms  around  him,  but  Kaunitz 
with  a  commanding  gesture  waved  her  off. 


124  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Very  Avell  done,  Olympia, "  said  he,  nodding  liis  head.  "You 
are  as  accomplished  as  you  are  beautiful ;  and  well  I  understand 
how  it  is  that  you  infatuate  by  your  cliarnis  all  manner  of  little 
Kaunitzes.  But  now  listen  to  Kaunitz  the  great.  I  not  only  allow, 
but  order  you  to  continue  your  intrigue  with  Count  Palffy.  Take 
every  thing  he  offers  ;  wring  his  purse  dry  ;  and  the  sooner  yovi  ruin 
him  the  better. " 

"That  means  that  I  importune  j'ou  with  my  love.  Farewell, 
prince,  and  may  you  never  repent  of  your  cruelty  to  poor 
Olympia. " 

"Stay,"  said  Kaunitz,  coolly.  "I  have  not  done  with  you. 
Continue  your  amours  with  the  Hungarian,  and  love  him  as  much 
as  you  choose,  provided — " 

"Provided?"  echoed  the  singer  anxiously,  as  Kaunitz  paused. 

"Provided  you  affect  before  the  world  to  be  still  my  mistress." 

"Oh,  my  beloved  prince,"  cried  Foliazzi,  "you  will  not  cast  me 
off !"  and  in  spite  of  his  disinclination  she  folded  Kaunitz  to  her 
heart. 

The  prince  struggled  to  get  free.  "You  have  disarranged  my 
whole  dress,"  said  he,  peevishly.  "On  account  of  your  folly  I  shall 
have  to  make  my  toilet  again.  Hear  me,  and  let  me  alone.  I  said 
that  you  would  affect  to  be  my  mistress.  To  this  end  j-ou  will  drive 
as  usual  to  the  side-door  by  which  you  have  been  accustomed  to  enter 
the  palace,  and  while  your  carriage  stands  tliere  for  one  hour,  you 
shall  be  treated  to  a  costly  breakfast  in  my  little  boudoir  every 
morning." 

"By  your  side,  my  own  prince?" 

"  By  yourself,  my  own  Ol3anpia.  I  have  not  time  to  devote  an 
hour  to  you  every  day.  Your  carriage  shall  stand  at  my  door  in  the 
morning.  Every  evening  mine  will  be  for  an  hour  before  yours, 
and  while  it  remains  there  I  forbid  you  to  be  at  home  to  any  one 
whatsoever. " 

"  I  shall  think  of  nothing  but  you  until  that  hour, "  said  the 
signora,  fondly. 

"  Vraiment,  you  are  very  presuming  to  suppose  that  I  shall  trouble 
myself  to  come  in  the  carriage,"  replied  Kaunitz,  contemptuously. 
"It  is  enough  that  the  coach  being  there,  the  Avorld  will  suppose 
that  I  am  there  also.  A  man  of  fashion  must  have  the  name  of 
possessing  a  mistress ;  but  a  statesman  cannot  waste  his  valuable 
time  on  women.  You  are  my  mistress,  ostensibly,  and  therefore  I  give 
you  a  year's  salary  of  four  thousand  guilders." 

"You  are  an  angel — a  god !"  cried  La  Foliazzi,  this  time  with 
genuine  rapture.  "You  come  upon  one  like  Jupitei-,  in  a  shower  of 
gold." 

"  Yes,  but  I  have  no  wish  to  fall  into  the  embraces  of  my  Danae. 
Now,  hear  my  last  words.  If  you  ever  dare  let  it  transpire  that  you 
are  not  really  my  mistress,  I  sliall  ])unish  you  severely.  I  will  not 
only  stop  your  salary,  but  I  will  cite  you  before  the  conunittee  of 
morals,  and  you  slinll  be  forced  into  a  marriage  with  somebody." 

The  singer  shuddered  and  drew  back.  "  Let  me  go  at  once  into 
my  boudoir.     Is  my  breakfast  ready?" 

"No — your  morning  visits  tliere  begin  to-morrow.  Now  go 
home  to  (yount  PallTy,  and  do  not  forget  our  contract." 

"I  shall  not  forget  it,  prince,"  replied  tlie  signoj-a,  smiling.  "I 
await  your  coach  this  evening.     You  may  kiss  me  if  you  choose. " 


PRINCE  KAUNITZ  AND  RITTER  GLUCK.  135 

She  bent  her  head  to  his  and  held  out  her  delicate  cheek,  fresh  as  a 
rose. 

"Simpleton,"  said  he,  slightly  tapping  her  beautiful  mouth, 
"  do  you  suppose  that  the  great  Kaunitz  would  kiss  any  lips  but  those 
which,  like  the  sensitive  mimosa,  shrink  from  the  touch  of  man ! 
Go  away.  Count  Palffy  will  feel  honored  to  reajj  the  kisses  I  have 
left." 

He  gave  her  his  hand,  and  looked  after  her,  as  with  light  and 
graceful  carriage  she  left  the  room. 

"  She  is  surpassingly  beautiful, "  said  Kaunitz  to  himself.  "  Every 
one  envies  me  ;  but  each  one  thinks  it  quite  a  matter  of  course  that 
the  loveliest  woman  in  Vienna  should  be  glad  to  be  my  mistress. 
Ah!  two  o'clock.  My  guests  await  me.  But  before  I  go  I  must 
bring  down  the  Countess  Clary  from  the  airy  heaven  which  she  has 
built  for  herself. " 

He  rang,  and  a  page  appeared  ;  for  from  the  time  he  became  a 
prince,  Kaunitz  introduced  four  pages  in  liis  household,  and  kept 
open  table  daily  for  twelve  persons. 

"  Tell  the  Countess  Clary, "  said  he,  "  that  in  a  few  moments  I  will 
conduct  her  to  the  dining-room.  Then  await  me  in  my  puder- 
kaminer. " 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

PRINCE  KAUNITZ  AND  RITTER  GLUCK. 

Prince  Kaunitz  had  finished  his  promenade  in  the  powder- 
room,  and  having  ascertained  by  means  of  his  mirror  that  his  peruke 
was  in  order,  he  betook  himself  to  the  apartments  of  the  Countess 
Clary,  to  conduct  her  to  table. 

The  young  countess,  Kaunitz's  niece,  and  a  widow  scarcely 
thirty  years  of  age,  flew  to  greet  her  uncle,  radiant  with  smiles  and 
happiness. 

"What  an  unexpected  honor  you  confer  upon  me,  my  dear 
uncle!"  said  she.  with  her  sweet  low  voice.  "Coming  yourself  to 
conduct  me  to  the  table !  How  I  thank  you  for  preparing  me  a 
triumph  which  every  woman  in  Vienna  will  envy  me." 

"  I  came  with  no  intention  whatever  of  preparing  you  a  triumph 
or  a  pleasure.  I  came  solely  because  I  wish  to  have  a  few  words 
with  you  before  we  go  to  dinner. " 

"  I  am  all  ears,  your  highness, "  said  the  countess,  smiling. 

Kaunitz  looked  at  his  young  and  lovely  niece  with  uncommon 
scrutiny.     "  You  have  been  crying, "  said  he,  after  a  pause. 

"No,  indeed,"  said  she,  blushing. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  you  can  deceive  me?  I  repeat  it,  you  have 
been  crying.     Will  yovi  presume  to  contradict  me?" 

"No,  dear  uncle,  I  will  not." 

"  And  wherefore?     No  prevarication  ;  I  must  know. " 

The  young  countess  raised  her  soft  blue  eyes  to  the  face  of  the 
haughty  prince.  "I  will  tell  the  truth,"  said  she,  again  blushing. 
"I  was  crying  because  La  Foliazzi  was  so  long  with  you  to-day." 

"Jealous,  too  I"  said  Kaunitz,  with  a  sneer.  "And  pray,  who 
ever  gave  yon,  the  right  of  b'-ing  jealous  of  me?" 

The  countess  said  nothing,  but  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 


126  JOSEPH  II.   AND   HIS  COURT. 

"  Allow  me  to  discuss  this  matter  with  you.  I  came  for  this 
purpose.  Our  relations  must  be  distinctly  understood,  if  they  are 
to  last.  You  must  have  the  goodness  to  remember  their  origin. 
When  you  were  left  a  widow  you  turned  to  me,  as  your  nearest  rela- 
tive, for  assistance.  You  were  vmprotected,  and  your  husband  had 
left  you  nothing.  I  gave  you  my  i)rotection,  not  becavise  I  was  in 
any  way  pleased  with  you,  but  because  you  were  my  sister's  cliild. 
I  invited  yovi  hither  to  do  tlie  lionors  of  my  house,  to  give  orders  to 
the  cooks  and  steward,  to  overlook  my  household  arrangements,  and 
to  receive  my  guests  iu  a  manner  worthy  of  their  host.  To  insure 
you  the  appearance  and  consideration  due  to  you  as  my  niece  and  as 
the  lady  of  my  house,  I  gave  you  a  remuneration  of  two  thousand 
guilders  a  year.     Were  not  these  my  terms?" 

"  Yes,  your  highness,  they  were.  Tliey  filled  me  with  gratitude 
and  joy  ;  and  never  will  I  forget  j^our  kindness." 

"It  seems,  however,  that  you  do  forget  it, "  rejslied  the  heartless  un- 
cle. "  How  does  it  happen  that  you  take  the  liberty  of  being  unhappy 
because  La  Foliazzi  is  iu  my  room?  What  business  is  it  of  yours, 
whom  I  receive  or  entertain?  Have  I  ever  given  you  the  slightest 
hope  that  from  my  niece  I  would  ever  raise  you  to  the  eminence  of 
being  my  wife?" 

"Never,  never,  dear  uncle,"  said  the  countess,  scarlet  with 
shame.  "You  have  never  been  otherwise  to  me  than  my  generous 
benefactor. " 

"  Then  oblige  me  by  silencing  the  absurd  rumors  that  may  have 
led  you  into  the  delusion  of  supposing  that  I  intended  to  make  of 
you  a  princess.  I  wish  you  to  know  that  I  have  no  idea  of  marrying 
again  ;  and  if  ever  I  should  form  another  matrimonial  alliance,  it 
will  either  be  with  an  imperial  or  a  roj'al  princess.  Will  you  be  so 
good  as  to  remember  this,  and  to  act  accordingly?" 

"  Certainly, "  replied  the  countess,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears.  "  I 
assure  your  highness  that  I  have  never  been  so  presuming  as  to  regard 
you  otherwise  than  as  my  kinsman  and  guardian.  My  feelings  of 
admiration  for  you  are  indeed  enthusiastic  ;  but  I  have  never  felt 
any  thing  toward  you  but  the  attachment  of  a  daughter." 

"  Pray  do  not  trouble  yourself  to  feel  any  thing  at  all  on  my 
account, "  said  Kauuitz,  ill-humoredly.  "  I  am  not  under  the  neces- 
sity of  playing  the  part  of  a  tender  father  toward  you ;  therefore, 
dry  up  the  tears  you  took  the  trouble  to  shed  on  La  Foliazzi 's 
account.  But  enough  of  this  folly.  I  hope  that  we  understand 
each  other,  and  that  I  will  not  have  to  repeat  this  conversation.  Be 
so  good  as  to  take  my  arm.     We  will  go  forward  to  meet  our  guests. " 

The  young  countess  took  the  arm  of  the  prince,  and  tliey  entered 
the  drawing-room.  The  guests  had  long  been  assembled  there,  but 
it  never  occurred  to  Kaunitz  to  make  any  apology  for  his  late  ap- 
pearance. Nevertheless,  his  guests  were  all  noble ;  some  of  them 
representatives  of  })rineely  houses  or  powerfid  kingdoms.  Kaunitz, 
however,  was  not  only  the  all-]iowerful  minister  of  JNlaria  Theresa  ; 
it  was  well  known  that  his  slender,  diamond -studded  fingers  directed 
the  policy  of  all  Europe.  No  one  in  that  room  had  the  courage  to 
resent  liis  rudeness.  All  seemed  to  feel  honored  as  he  walked 
liaughtily  forward  with  a  slight  inclination  of  his  head  to  the 
many,  and  a  condescending  smile  to  the  few  whom  it  pleased  him 
to  distinguish  by  his  notice.* 

*  Wraxall,  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  i. ,  page  380. 


PRINCE   KAUNITZ  AND  RITTER  GLUCK.  127 

Prince  Kaunitz  did  not  choose  to  perceive  that  several  distin- 
p,uished  ambassadors,  as  well  as  a  German  prince,  himself  a  reign- 
ing sovereign,  were  present  as  his  guests.  He  passed  them  all  by. 
to  accost  a  small,  graceful  man  who,  seated  in  a  recess,  had  received 
no  further  attention  from  the  high-born  company  than  a  condescend- 
ing nod.  Kaunitz  gave  him  his  hand,  and  welcomed  him  audibly. 
Tlie  honored  guest  was  Noverre,  the  inventor  of  the  ballet  as  it  is 
Ijerformed  to-day  on  the  stage.  Noverre  blushed  with  pleasure  at 
t!ie  reception  given  him,  while  the  other  guests  scarcely  concealed 
llieir  chagrin. 

Just  then  the  folding-doors  were  thrown  wide  open,  and  the 
steward  announced  in  a  loud  voice  that  the  table  of  his  lord  the 
prince  was  served.  The  company  arose,  and  the  ladies  looked  to 
see  which  of  them  was  to  have  the  honor  of  being  conducted  to  the 
table  by  the  host.  Kaunitz  feigned  neither  to  see  nor  to  hear.  He 
continued  his  conversation  with  Noverre,  and  when  he  had  quite 
done,  he  sauntered  carelessly  up  to  his  other  guests.  Suddenly  he 
paused,  and  his  eyes  wandered  from  one  to  another  with  a  search- 
ing glance. 

"  Good  Heaven !"  exclaimed  he,  "  of  what  a  rlidenesswe  were 
about  to  be  guilty.  I  had  invited  Ritter  Gluck  to  meet  us  to-day, 
and  he  has  not  yet  arrived.  It  shall  not  be  said  of  me  that  I  was 
ever  wanting  in  respect  to  genius  as  transcendent  as  his.  I  must 
beg  of  my  distinguished  guests  to  await  his  arrival  before  going 
to  dinner."* 

Hereupon  he  resumed  his  conversation  with  Noverre.  The 
other  guests  were  indignant,  for  they  all  felt  the  insult.  The  nobles 
disapproved  of  the  fashion,  which  had  been  introduced  by  Kaunitz, 
of  mingling  artists  and  sav((ns  of  no  birth  with  the  aristocracy  of 
Vienna;  and  the  ambassadors  felt  it  as  a  personal  injury  that 
Kaunitz,  who  yesterday  had  refused  to  wait  for  them,  to-day  called 
upon  them  to  wait  for  a  musician. 

Kaunitz  pretended  not  to  see  the  displeasure  which,  nevertheless, 
his  guests  were  at  no  great  pains  to  conceal,  and  he  went  on  talking 
in  an  animated  strain  with  Noverre.  The  poor  dancer,  meanwhile, 
gave  short  and  embarrassed  answers.  He  had  remarked  the  discon- 
tent of  the  company,  and  the  prince's  over-politeness  oppressed  him, 
the  more  so  as  he  perceived  one  of  the  lords  g^-adually  approaching, 
with  the  intention  of  addressing  the  prince.  With  the  deepest 
respect  the  dancer  attempted  to  withdraw,  but  the  merciless  Kaunitz 
caught  him  by  one  of  the  buttons  of  his  velvet  coat,  and  held  him 
fast. 

"  Do  not  stir, "  said  the  prince.  "  I  see  the  duke  quite  as  well  as 
you  do,  but  he  is  a  liar  and  a  braggart — I  dislike  him,  and  he  shall 
not  speak  with  me.  Tell  me  something  about  the  new  ballet  that 
YOU  are  arranging  for  the  emperor's  festival.  I  hear  that  Gluck 
has  composed  the  music.     But  hush  !     Here  comes  the  viaestro. " 

Kaunitz  walked  rapidly  forward  and  met  Gluck  in  the  middle 
of  the  room.  They  greeted  one  another  cordially,  but  proudly — as 
two  princes  might  have  done.  Around  them  stood  the  other  guests, 
frowning  to  see  these  two  men,  both  so  proud,  so  conscious  of  great- 
ness, scarcely  seeming  aware  that  others  besides  themselves  were 
present.  Gliick  was  in  full  court-dress  ;  at  his  side  a  sword  ;  on  his 
breast  the  brilliant  order  of  the  pope.     With  unembarrassed  courtesy 

*  Swinburne,  vol.  i.,  page  80. 


128  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

he  received  the  greeting  of  the  prince,  and  made  no  apology  for  his 
tardy  appearance. 

"Thank  Heaven,  you  have  come  at  last !"  exclaimed  Kaunitz,  in 
an  audible  voice.  "  I  was  afraid  that  the  gods,  angels,  and  spirits 
who  are  the  daily  associates  of  the  great  maestro  would  deprive  us 
poor  mortals  of  the  honor  of  dining  with  the  favorite  of  the  Muses 
and  the  Gi'aces. " 

"  The  gods,  the  Muses,  and  the  Graces  are  the  associates  of  Prince 
Kaunitz, "  returned  Gluck.  "  If  they  are  not  to  be  found  in  their 
temples,  we  may  be  sure  that  they  have  taken  refuge  here. " 

Kaunitz,  who  never  vouchsafed  a  civil  word  in  return  for  com- 
pliments, bowed  his  head,  and  with  a  gratified  smile  turned  to  his 
assembled  guests. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "let  us  sit  down  to  dinner." 

But  the  company  waited  for  the  signal  to  rise  which  would  be 
given  when  the  host  offered  his  arm  to  the  lady  whom  he  compli- 
mented by  taking  her  in  to  dinner. 

The  prince  looked  aroimd,  and  his  eyes  rested  again  on  Gluck. 

"I  beg  of  the  Ritter  Gluck,"  said  he,  graciously,  "the  honor  of 
conducting  him'to  the  table. "  And  with  a  courteous  bow  he  offered 
his  arm.  "  Favorite  of  the  Muses,  come  with  me,  I  am  too  true  a 
worshipper  of  your  nine  lovely  mistresses,  to  resign  you  to  any  one 
else. " 

Gluck,  with  a  smile  appreciative  of  the  honor  conferred  upon 
him,  took  the  arm  of  the  prince,  and  was  led  into  the  dining- 
room. 

Behind  them  came  the  other  guests.  All  wore  discontented  faces  ; 
for  this  time  the  slight  had  been  offered  not  only  to  dukes  and  am- 
bassadors, but  to  the  ladies  themselves,  who  could  not  help  feeling 
bitterly  this  utter  disregard  of  all  etiquette  and  good- breeding. 

On  the  day  after  the  dinner  Kaunitz  started  for  Innspruck  to 
superintend  the  festivities  preparing  for  the  marriage  of  the  Arch- 
duke Leopold.  Count  Durazzo,  the  director  of  the  theatre,  had  pre- 
ceded the  prince  by  a  week.  Noverre,  with  his  ballet-dancers,  was 
to  follow.  The  great  opera  of  "  Orpheus  and  Eurydice, "  whose  fame 
was  now  European,  was  being  rehearsed  at  Innspruck,  for  repre- 
sentation on  the  first  night  of  the  festival. 

Although  Florian  Gassman  was  a  leader  of  acknowledged  skill, 
Gluck,  at  the  request  of  the  emperor,  had  gone  to  Innspruck  to  direct 
and  oversee  the  rehearsals. 

The  furies  had  just  concluded  their  chorus,  and  Gluck  had  given 
the  signal  for  dismissal,  when  Prince  Kaunitz  entered  the  theatre, 
and  came  forward,  offering  his  hand  to  the  maestro. 

"Well,  maestro,"  said  he,  "are  you  satisfied  with  your  artistes  ? 
Are  we  to  have  a  great  musical  treat  to-morrow?" 

Gluck  shrugged  his  slioulders.  "My  singers  are  not  the  angels 
who  taught  me  tliis  music,  but  for  mortals  tliey  sing  well.  I  scarcely 
think  that  Donna  Maria  Louisa  has  ever  heard  any  thing  compara- 
ble to  the  music  wliich  is  to  welcome  her  to  Innspruck. " 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it."  said  Kaunitz,  witli  his  usual -composure, 
although  he  was  inwardly  annoyed  at  Gluck 's  complacency.  "But 
as  I  promised  the  empress  to  see  and  hear  every  thing  nayself,  I  must 
hear  and  judge  of  your  opera  also.  Be  so  good  as  to  have  it 
repeated." 

Gluck  looked  at  the  prince  in  amazement. 


AN  UNFORTUNATE  MEETING.  129 

"  What, "  cried  he,  "  your  highness  wishes  them  to  go  through  the 
whole  opera  without  an  audience?" 

Prince  Kaunitz  raised  his  lofty  head  in  displeasure,  and  said : 
"Ritter  Gluck,  quality  has  always  been  esteemed  before  quantity. 
I  alone  am  an  audience.  Let  the  oi^era  begin,  the  audience  is 
here. "  * 

Gluck  did  not  answer  immediately.  He  frowned  and  looked 
down.  Suddenly  he  raised  his  head,  and  his  face  wore  its  usual 
expression  of  energy  and  power. 

"I  will  gratify  your  highness.  I  myself  would  like  to  hear  the 
opera  without  participating  in  it.  Ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
coulisses,  be  so  kind  as  to  return !  Gentlemen  of  the  orchestra,  re- 
sume your  instruments  !  Gassman,  have  the  goodness  to  lead.  Do 
your  best.  Let  us  have  your  highest  interpretation  of  art — for  you 
have  an  audience  such  as  you  may  never  have  again.  Prince 
Kaunitz  and  Ritter  Gluck  are  your  listeners  !" 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

AN  UNFORTUNATE  MEETING. 

Festival  followed  festival.  The  streets  of  the  beautiful  capital 
of  Tyrol  were  gay  with  the  multitudes  who  thronged  to  the  marriage 
of  the  empress's  second  son. 

It  was  the  second  day  after  the  wedding.  On  the  first  evening 
the  opera  of  "Orpheus  and  Eurydice  "  had  been  triumphantly  repre- 
sented before  the  elite  of  the  city.  A  second  representation  had 
been  called  for  by  the  delighted  audience,  although  at  the  imperial 
palace  a  magnificent  mask  ball  was  to  be  given,  for  which  two  thou- 
sand invitations  had  been  issued.  It  was  a  splendid  confusion  of 
lights,  jewels,  velvet,  satins,  and  flowers.  All  the  nations  of  the 
world  had  met  in  that  imperial  ballroom  ;  not  only  mortals,  but 
fairies,  sylphides,  and  heathen  gods  and  goddesses.  It  was  a  be- 
v.aldering  scene,  that  crowd  of  fantastic  revellers,  whose  faces  were 
every  one  hidden  by  velvet  masks,  through  which  dark  eyes  glit- 
tered, like  stars  upon  the  blackness  of  the  night. 

The  imperial  family  alone  appeared  without  masks.  Maria 
Theresa,  in  a  dress  of  blue  velvet,  studded  with  golden  embroidery, 
her  fair  white  forehead  encircled  by  a  coronet  of  diamonds  and 
sapphires,  walked  among  her  guests  with  enchanting  smiles  and 
gracious  words.  She  leaned  upon  the  arm  of  the  King  of  Rome, 
who,  looking  more  cheerful  than  usual,  chatted  gayly  with  his 
mother  or  with  the  crowd  around  them.  Near  them  were  the  Grand 
Duke  Leopold  and  his  bride,  so  absorbed  in  one  another  that  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  they  at  least  were  happy  in  their  affections.  Be- 
hind them  flocked  the  young  archduchesses,  who  were  enjoying  the 
ball  to  the  utmost.  Whenever  the  empress  approached  a  group  of 
her  guests,  tlaey  stood  in  respectful  silence  while  she  and  her  hand- 
some family  passed  by  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  had  left  them,  their 
admiration  bui'st  forth  in  every  imaginable  form  of  words.  The 
empress,  who  overheard  these  murmured  plaudits,  smiled  proudly 
upon  her  young  daughters,  who,  even  if  they  had  been  no  arch- 
duchesses, would  still  have  been  the  handsomest  girls  in  Austria. 
*The  pi-ince's  own  words.    Swinburne,  vol.  i.,  page  362. 


130  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

While  the  empress,  in  the  full  splendor  of  her  rank  and  beauty, 
was  representing  the  sovereign  of  Austria,  the  emperor,  mingling 
with  the  guests,  was  taking  the  liberty  of  amusing  himself  as 
ordinary  mortals  love  to  do  at  a  masked  ball.  On  his  arm  hung  a 
mask  of  most  graceful  figure,  but  so  completely  was  she  disguised 
that  nothing  could  be  ascertained  with  regard  to  her  name  or  rank. 
Some  whispered  that  it  was  the  emperor's  new  favorite,  the  Countess 
of  Auersberg. 

As  the  pair  went  by,  the  emperor  overheard  the  conjectures  of 
the  crowd,  and  he  turned  with  a  smile  to  the  lady  who  accompanied 
him. 

"  Do  not  fear, "  said  he  ;  "  there  is  no  danger  of  your  being  recog- 
nized. You  are  mistaken  for  another  lady.  I  promised  you  that 
you  should  meet  Joseph  here,  and  I  will  keep  my  promise.  Let  us 
trj'  to  make  our  way  through  the  crowd,  that  we  may  join  him  as 
soon  as  possible ;  for  I  feel  oppressed  this  evening,  I  know  not 
why." 

"Oh,  then,  your  majesty,  let  me  go  back  into  the  anteroom," 
said  the  veiled  lady.  "  I  begin  to  feel  all  the  rashness  of  my  under- 
taking, and  although  it  has  the  sanction  of  your  majesty  and  the 
empress,  I  feel  like  a  criminal,  every  moment  dreading  discovery. 
Let  us  go  back. " 

"No,  no,"  replied  the  emperor,  "let  us  remain  until  the  inter- 
view with  Joseph  is  over.  I  shall  feel  no  better  in  the  anteroom 
than  here.  I  never  shall  be  well  until  I  leave  this  beautiful,  fearful 
Tyrol.  Its  inountains  weigh  heavily  upon  my  head  and  my  brenst. 
But  let  us  sit  down  awhile.  I  love  to  listen  to  the  people's  talk, 
when  the  court  is  not  by. " 

"  But  while  your  majesty  is  present  the  court  is  here, "  said  the 
lady. 

"Not  so,  my  dear,"  whispered  the  emperor;  "the  empress  and 
my  children  are  the  court,  I  am  but  a  private  nobleman.  Ah,  there 
they  come  !  See  how  beautiful  and  stately  the  empress  looks  !  Who 
would  suppose  that  this  grown-up  family  were  her  children  ! — But 
she,  she  signs  us  to  approach.     Take  courage,  and  await  me  here. " 

So  saying,  the  emperor  hastened  toward  his  wife,  who  received 
him  with  a  loving  smile  of  welcome. 

"Now,  my  son,"  said  she,  withdrawing  her  arm  from  Joseph,  "I 
give  you  your  freedom.  I  advise  you  to  mix  among  the  masks,  and 
to  go  in  searc-h  of  adventures.  We  have  done  enough  for  ceremony, 
I  tliiuk  we  may  now  enjoy  ourselves  a  little  like  the  rest  of  man- 
kind. If  we  were  younger,  Franzel,  we,  too,  would  mix  with  yon- 
der crowd,  and  dance  awhile.  But  I  suppose  we  must  leave  that  to 
our  children,  and  betake  ourselves  to  the  card-table  or  to  tlie  opera- 
house.  " 

"If  your  majesty  leaves  me  the  choice, "said  the  emperor,  "I 
vote  for  the  opera.  " 

The  empress  took  his  .arm,  while  she  tui'ned  to  the  Countess 
Lerchenfeld,  Jhe  governess  of  the  archducliesses.  "  To  the  dancing- 
room,  countess, "  said  she;  "the  archducliesses  may  dance,  but  no 
masks  must  enter  tlie  room.  Now,  my  dear  husband,  follow  me. 
Adieu,  Jo.se ph  !  To-morrow  I  expect  to  hear  what  fortune  has  be- 
fallen you  to-night. " 

"Your  majesty  forgets  that  Fortune  is  a  woman,"  returned 
Joseph,  smiling,  "and  you  know  that  I  have  no  luck  with  women." 


AN  UNFORTUNATE  MEETING.  131 

"  Or  you  will  not  have  it, "  said  the  empress,  laughing,  and  leav- 
ing her  son  to  his  thoughts. 

"  Or  you  will  not  have  it, "  repeated  a  soft  voice  near,  and  Joseph, 
turning,  saw  an  elegant-looking  woman,  veiled  and  masked. 

"Fair  mask,"  said  he,  smiling,  "although  you  have  tlie  qualities 
of  Ekiho,  you  have  not  j^et  pined  away  to  invisibility. " 

"  Perhaps,  sire,  niy  body  is  only  the  coffin  of  my  heart,  and  my 
lieart  the  unfortunate  Echo  that  has  grieved  herself  to  death  and 
invisibility.  But  i^erhaps  your  majesty  does  not  believe  in  the 
power  of  grief,  for  doubtless  j^ou  ai'e  unacquainted  with  its  pangs. " 

"And  why  should  you  imagine  that  I  am  unacquainted  with 
grief?"  asked  Joseph. 

"Because  your  majesty's  station  is  exalted  above  that  of  other 
men  ;  because  God  has  blessed  j'ou  Avith  a  noble  heart,  that  is  worthy 
of  your  destiny — the  destiny  which  gives  you  the  power  of  making 
other  mortals  happy. " 

"  How  do  you  know  all  this?" 

"I  see  it,"  whispered  she,  "in  your  eyes — those  eyes  that  reflect 
the  blue  of  heaven.  Oh,  sire,  may  never  a  cloud  darken  that 
heaven !" 

"I  thank  you  for  your  pious  wish,"  replied  the  king  sadly,  "but 
if  you  are  mortal,  you  know  that  in  this  world  there  are  no  such 
tilings  as  cloudless  skies.  Let  us  not  speak  of  such  serious  matters  ; 
give  me  your  arm,  and  let  us  join  in  the  mirth  that  is  arovmd  us. " 

"If  your  majesty  will  permit  me,  I  will  while  away  the  hour  by 
relating  to  you  a  sad  story  of  life. " 

"  Why  a  sad  story,  why  not  a  merry  one?" 

"  Because  I  came  here  for  no  other  object  than  to  relate  this  sad 
story  to  yourself.  I  came  to  crave  your  majesty's  sympathy  and 
clemency  in  behalf  of  a  suffering  fellow-creature. " 

"Can  I  do  any  thing  in  the  matter? "  asked  the  king. 

"  From  your  majesty  alone  do  I  hope  for  succor. " 

"Very  well ;  if  so,  let  me  hear  the  story.     I  will  listen." 

"Sire,  my  mournful  history  will  ill  accord  with  the  merriment 
of  a  ballroom.  If  you  will  condescend  to  go  with  me  to  one  of  the 
boxes  in  the  gallery,  I  will  there  confide  my  secret  to  your  ear,  and 
there  I  hope  to  soften  your  heart.  Oh,  sire,  do  not  tariy  ;  it  is  a 
case  of  life  or  death." 

"  Well, "  said  Joseph,  after  a  pause,  "  I  will  go.  After  all,  I  am 
about  to  have  an  adventure. " 

The  riiask  bowed,  and  nmde  her  way  through  the  crowd  to  a  side- 
door  which  opened  upon  the  private  staircase  leading  to  the  boxes. 
Joseph  looked  witli  interest  at  the  light  and  elegant  form  that  pre- 
ceded him,  and  said  to  himself,  "  Truly  an  adventure  !  I  will  follow 
it  to  the  end." 

They  were  now  in  the  galleries,  from  whence  a  beavitiful  vie^v 
of  the  balh'oom  was  obtained.  The  lady  entered  a  box,  the  king 
followed.  The  sound  of  the  music,  and  the  gay  voices  of  the  dan- 
cers, came  with  softened  murmur  to  the  ears  of  the  king.  He 
thought  of  the  past ;  but  rousing  himself  to  the  exigencies  of  tlie 
present,  he  turned  to  the  lady  and  said  :  "  Now,  fair  mask,  to  your 
narrative." 

"  Swear  first  to  hear  me  to  the  end  !  Swear  it  by  the  memory  of 
Isabella,  wlioni  j'ou  so  passionately  loved  !" 

"  Isabella !"  cried  Josej)h,    turning  pale.     "  You  are  very  bold, 


132  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

niadame,  to  call  that  name,  and  call  it  here  !     But  speak.     By  her 
loved  memory  I  will  listen. " 

She  took  his  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips.  Then  she  begged 
the  king  to  be  seated,  and  took  her  place  by  his  side. 

"  Sire,  I  wisli  to  relate  to  you  the  history  of  a  woman  whom  God 
lias  either  blessed  or  cursed;  a  woman  who,  if  she  were  not  most 
unfortunate,  wovild  be  the  happiest  of  mortals." 

"You  speak  as  the  Sphinx  did  before  the  gates  of  Thebes.  How 
can  one  be  at  the  same  time  blessed  and  cursed?" 

"  Sire,  it  is  a  blessing  to  be  capable  of  loving  with  passion  ;  it 
is  a  curse  to  love,  and  not  be  loved  in  return. " 

"  And  a  greater  curse, "  murmured  Joseph,  "  to  feign  love  and  not 
to  feel  it.  I  have  been  a  victim  of  such  hjpocrisy,  and  never  shall 
I  outlive  its  bitter  memories. " 

"Sire,"  began  the  lady,  "the  woman  of  whom  I  speak  would 
willingly  give  a  year  of  her  life  if  the  man  she  loves  would  but 
vouchsafe  to  lier  thirsting  heart  one  single  glance  of  love.  Think 
how  wretched  she  must  be,  when  even  the  appearance  of  love  would 
satisfy  her.  But  do  not  suppose,  sire,  that  this  woman  is  the  victim 
of  a  guilty  passion  which  she  dare  not  own.  She  is  a  wife,  and  the 
man  she  adores,  and  who  loves  her  not,  is  her  husband. " 

"Why  does  he  not  love  her?"  asked  Joseph  quickly. 

"  Because, "  said  the  mask,  in  an  agitated  voice,  "  because  she  has 
sinned  against  him.  On  the  day  of  her  marriage,  although  he  nobly 
invited  her  confidence,  she  hid  from  him  a — a — malady.  Oh,  in 
mercy,  do  not  go  !  You  mnst  hear  me. "  cried  she,  almost  frenzied, 
"  you  swore  by  the  memory  of  Isabella  to  listen. " 

Josei^h  resumed  his  seat,  and  said  roughly,  "Goon,  then." 

"  It  was  a  crime, "  continvied  she  in  a  voice  of  deepest  emotion, 
"  but  she  has  paid  dearly  for  her  sin.  Her  husband  repulsed  her, 
but  her  heart  was  still  his  ;  he  despised  her,  and  yet  she  adores  him. 
Her  malady  has  long  since  disappeared  ;  her  heart  alone  is  sick  ; 
that  heart  which  will  break  if  her  lord  refuse  to  forgive  her  the 
offence  that  was  born  of  her  love  for  him  !  But  oh,  sire,  he  has  no 
pity.  When  she  meets  him  with  imploring  looks,  he  turns  away ; 
her  letters  he  sends  to  her  unopened.  Oli,  he  is  severe  in  his  wrath  ; 
it  is  like  vengeance  from  Heaven  I  But  still  she  loves,  and  still  she 
hopes  that  one  day  he  will  be  generous,  and  forgive  her  another 
crime — that  of  not  being  blessed  with  beauty.  For  months  she  has 
longed  to  tell  him  that  she  repents  of  her  faults,  that  her  punish- 
ment is  just :  but,  oh  !  oh  !  she  begs  for  mercy.  She  was  forbidden 
to  follow  him  to  Innspruck,  but  .she  could  not  stay  behind.  His 
parents  gave  their  consent,  and  she  is  here  at  your  knees,  my  lord 
and  king,  to  pletid  for  mercy.  Oh  !  has  there  not  been  enough  of 
cruelty?  See  me  humbled  at  your  feet;  reach  me  your  beloved 
hainl,  and  bid  me  sit  by  your  side  !  " 

She  had  sunk  to  the  ground,  and  now  tearing  from  her  face  the 
mask  and  veil,  the  King  of  Rome  beheld  the  death-like  countenance 
of  his  despised  wife. 

Joseph  rose  from  his  seat  and  looked  at  her  with  inexorable  hate. 
"Madame, "  said  he,  "thanks  to  the  name  which  you  used  to  force 
me  into  compliance,  I  liave  heard  you  out.  I  married  you  without 
allcction,  and  you  had  been  my  wife  but  a  few  short  hours  when 
you  turned  my  indifference  into  undying  hate.  You  come  and 
whine  to  me  for  my  love ;  and  you  inform  me  that  you  are  love- 


MOURNING.  133 

sick  on  my  account.  If  so,  I  dare  say  that  Van  Swieten,  who  cured 
you  of  leprosy,  can  also  cure  you  of  your  unfortunate  attachment. 
If  you  never  knew  it  before,  allow  me  to  inform  you  that  your  love 
gives  you  no  claim  to  inine ;  and  when  a  woman  has  the  indelicacy 
to  thrust  herseK  upon  a  man  who  has  never  sought  her,  she  must 
expect  to  be  despised  and  humbled  to  the  dust.  And  now,  madame, 
as  I  still  Iiave  the  misfortune  to  be  your  husband,  listen  to  my  com- 
mands. You  came  here  in  spite  of  my  prohibition  ;  as  you  pass  in 
the  world  for  my  wife,  you  shall  at  least  be  obedient  to  my  will. 
Go  back  this  night  to  Vienna,  and  never  again  presume  to  entrap 
me  into  another  interview  like  this  !" 

Without  vouchsafing  a  look  at  the  fainting  woman  who  lay  at 
his  feet,  Joseph  left  the  box,  and  descended  to  the  ballroom. 

But  what  wail  was  that,  which,  coming  from  the  imperial  ban- 
queting-hall,  hushed  every  sound  of  miisic  and  mirth,  and  drove 
the  ga}-  multitude  in  terror  from  the  ballroom? 

The  King  of  Rome  was  hastily  making  his  waj^  through  the  ter- 
rified crowd,  when  he  was  met  by  one  of  his  own  officers. 

"I  have  been  seeking  your  majesty,"  said  he  in  a  ti*embling 
voice.     "  The  emperor — " 

"In  Heaven's  name,  what  of  the  emperor?" 

"  He  is  very  ill,  your  majesty.  On  leaving  the  theatre,  he  was 
struck  down  by  apoplexy. " 

The  king  made  no  reply.  He  dashed  on  from  room  to  room  until 
he  reached  his  father's  sleeping-apartment. 

And  there  on  the  bed,'  that  white,  motionless  bod^^ ;  that  cold, 
insensible  piece  of  clay  ;  that  marble  image  without  breath — was 
all  that  earth  now  lield  of  the  Emperor  Francis  of  Lorraine. 

He  was  dead,  and  his  wish  had  been  granted.  He  had  gone  for- 
ever from  the  "  beautiful,  fearful  Tyrol ;"  and  its  mountains  lay  no 
longer  heavily  on  his  breast. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

MOURNING. 

The  sound  of  rejoicings  was  hushed.  The  people  of  Innspruck 
had  hastened  to  remove  from  the  streets  every  symbol  of  festivity. 
The  flowers  and  flags,  the  triumphal  arches,  and  the  wreathed 
arcades  had  disappeared.  The  epithalamium  had  been  followed  by 
the  dirge. 

Night  had  set  in— the  first  night  of  the  emperor's  death.  The 
corpse  still  lay  on  the  bed  where  its  last  breath  had  been  drawn,  and 
no  one  was  with  the  deceased  sovereign  except  two  night- watchers, 
whose  drowsy  heads  were  buried  in  the  arm-chairs  wherein  they 
sat.  Death  had  banished  ceremony.  In  the  presence  of  their  dead 
emperor,  his  attendants  were  seated  and  slept.  lu  the  centre  of  the 
room  stood  the  coffin  that  awaited  the  imperial  remains  ;  for  on  the 
morrow  the  funeral  ceremonies  were  to  begin.  But  tlie  empress  had 
ordered  that  on  this  night  all  ceremony  should  be  suspended. 

Deep  silence  reigned  throughout  Innspruck.  The  citizens,  worn 
out  with  the  excitement  of  the  day,  had  all  retired  to  I'est.  Even 
the  children  of  the  deceased  liad  forgotten  their  sorrow  in  sleep. 
Maria  Theresa  alone  sought  no  rest. 


134  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

All  that  day  she  had  been  overwhelmed  by  grief ;  even  prayer 
seemed  to  bring  no  relief  to  her  heart.  But  now  she  was  tranquil, 
she  had  thrust  back  her  tears  ;  and  the  empress-widow,  all  etiquette 
forgetting,  was  making  her  husband's  shroud. 

As  a  woman,  she  grieved  for  the  i^artner  of  her  joys  and  soitows  ; 
as  a  woman,  she  wished  to  pay  the  last  sad  honors  to  the  only  man 
whom  she  had  ever  loved.  She  whose  hands  were  accustomed  to 
the  sceptre,  now  held  a  needle,  and  to  all  offers  of  assistance  she 
made  but  one  reply. 

"  None  of  you  are  worthy  to  help  me  in  this  holy  work,  for  none 
of  you  loved  him.  For  you,  he  was  the  beneficent  and  honored 
sovereign  ;  but  for  me,  he  was  the  joy,  the  light,  the  air  of  my  life. 
I,  wlio  loved  liim,  have  alone  the  right  to  work  upon  his  shroud. " 

"Oh,  your  majesty,"  cried  the  Countess  Dauu,  while  her  eyes 
filled  with  sympathizing  tears,  "would  that  the  world  could  see 
with  what  devotion  the  great  Maria  Theresa  sits  in  the  stillness  of 
the  night,  and  with  her  own  hands  prepares  her  husband's  sliroud  !" 

The  empress  quickly  raised  her  head,  and,  with  something  like 
her  accustomed  imperiousness,  said  :  "  I  forbid  any  one  of  you  to 
speak  of  what  j'ou  liave  seen  to-night.  In  the  simplicity  of  my 
grief,  I  do  what  my  heart  urges  me  to  do  ;  but  let  not  my  sorrow 
become  the  subject  of  the  world's  idle  gossip.  When  the  husband 
dies  his  wife,  be  she  empress  or  beggar,  is  nothing  but  a  sorrowing 
w^idow.  Ah  !  I  am  indeed  beggared  of  all  my  wealth,  for  I  have  lost 
the  dearest  treasure  I  possessed  on  earth.  All  my  joys  will  die  with 
him." 

The  empress's  sobs  choked  her  utterance;  and  burying  her  face 
in  the  shroud,  she  wept  aloud. 

"In  the  name  of  Heaven,  your  majest>',  do  not  let  your  tears 
fall  upon  the  shroud !"  cried  the  Countess  Daun,  while  she  tried 
wnth  gentle  force  to  wrest  the  cloth  from  the  empress's  hands.  "I 
have  heard  it  said  that  what  is  laid  in  the  coffin  bedewed  with  tears, 
draws  after  it  to  the  grave  the  one  who  sheds  them. " 

"  Would  it  were  true  !  "  exclaimed  the  empress,  who  had  already 
resumed  her  work.  "Would  that  my  Francis  could  open  his  arms 
to  receive  me,  that  I  might  rest  by  his  side  from  the  cares  of  life  ! 
Would  that  I  were  with  him,  wJio  was  my  lover  from  earliest  child- 
hood ;  for  cold  and  cheerless  will  be  the  life  that  is  no  longer  lit  up 
by  his  smile." 

Slie  bent  over  her  work,  and  nothing  further  was  said  ;  but  her 
ladies  of  honor  gazed  with  tearful  eyes  uixm  the  high-born  mourner, 
who,  in  lier  long,  black  dress,  was  making  a  shroud  for  her  lost 
husband. 

At  last  the  task  was  completed,  and  she  rose  from  her  seat. 
With  a  sad  smile  she  threw  tlie  shroud  over  her  head,  and  it  fell 
around  her  majestic  form  like  a  white  veil. 

"  My  veil  of  eternal  widowdiood  !"  said  she.  "  Let  me  warm  it 
with  my  love,  tliat  it  may  not  lie  too  cold  upon  my  darling's  breast. 
Now,  my  friends,  go  and  rest.  Praj"^  for  the  emperor,  and  for  his 
heart-broken  wife." 

"Surely,"  said  the  Countess  Daun,  "your  majesty  will  not  send 
us  away  until  we  have  attended  to  your  wants.  Let  us  remain  ;  we 
will  watch  by  your  l)edsi(le. " 

"No,  countess,  I  will  dispense  with  your  services  to-night. 
Charlotte  von  Hieronymus  will  stay  with  me. " 


MOURNING.  135 

Turning  to  her  beloved  little  tire- woman  she  said  :  "I  want  your 
attendance  yet  awhile,  Charlotte  ;  you  are  to  dress  my  hair  to-night 
as  becomes  a  widow.     Good-night,  ladies." 

The  ladies  of  honor,  with  deep  courtesies,  left  the  room. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  them,  she  said  to  Charlotte:  "Now, 
Charlotte,  dear  child,  you  shall  go  with  me  on  my  last  visit  to  the 
emperor.     Take  a  pair  of  scissors,  and  come." 

"  Scissors,  your  majesty '?"  said  Charlotte. 

"Yes,  my  dear, "  replied  she,  as  she  advanced  to  her  work-table 
from  whence  she  took  up  a  silver  candelabrum,  and  signed  to  Char- 
lotte to  follow. 

Wrapping  the  shroud  close  about  her,  the  empress  went  forward 
through  the  long  suite  of  magnificent  but  dark  and  empty  rooms, 
that  lay  between  her  and  her  husband.  Her  tall  white  figure,  en- 
veloped in  the  shroud,  looked  in  the  gloom  of  night  like  a  ghost. 
The  light  which  she  carried,  as  it  flashed  across  her  face  gave  it  a 
weird  aspect ;  and  as  the  two  wanderers  went  flitting  by  the  large 
mirrors  that  here  and  there  ornamented  the  rooms,  they  looked  like 
a  vision  which  had  started  up  for  a  moment,  then  vanished  into 
utter  darkness. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  door  which  stood'ajar,  through  which  a 
light  was  visible. 

"We  are  here,"  said  the  empress,  leaning  against  the  door  for 
support.  "Step  lightly,  Charlotte,  and  make  no  noise,  for  the  em- 
peror sleeps. " 

There  on  the  bed,  with  its  yellow,  sunken  face,  was  the  corpse 
that  had  been  her  husband — the  only  man  she  had  ever  loved.  And 
that  hideous  black  cofhn,  which  looked  all  the  gloomier  for  the 
wax-lights  that  burned  around  it,  was  his  laSt  resting-place. 

Maria  Theresa  shuddered  when  she  saw  all  this  ;  but  her  strong 
will  came  to  her  help,  and  she  went  steadily  forward  until  she 
reached  the  night- watchers.  She  awoke  them  and  said,  "Go,  wait 
in  the  next  room  until  I  call  you."  Charlotte  was  already  on  her 
knees,  praying. 

The  empress  stood  once  more  irresolute,  then  rushing  forward 
with  a  cry  she  leaned  over  the  body. 

Presently  she  laid  her  hand  lovingly  upon  the  staring  eyes  of  the 
corpse,  and  looked  long  and  tenderly  at  the  face. 

"  Shut  your  eyes,  my  Franz, "  said  she  softly,  "  shut  your  eyes, 
for  never  have  they  looked  so  coldly  upon  me  before.  Do  not  forget 
me  in  heaven,  my  beloved ;  but  leave  your  heart  with  me ;  mine 
has  been  with  you  for  so  many  years  !  First  I  loved  you  as  a  child 
— then  as  a  maiden — and  lastly,  I  loved  you  as  a  wife  and  the  mother 
of  your  children.  And  I  will  ever  love  you,  my  own  one.  I  was 
true  as  your  wife,  and  I  will  be  true  as  your  widow.  Farewell,  my 
beloved,  farewell !" 

She  bent  over  and  kissed  the  emijeror's  mouth,  and  for  a  moment 
laid  her  head  upon  his  cold,  still  bosom.  Then  again  she  drew  her 
hand  softly  across  his  eyes,  and  tried  to  close  them.  A  proud  smile 
flitted  over  her  wan  face,  for  the  eyes  of  the  corpse  closed.  The 
loving  hand  of  the  wife  had  i^revailed  where  every  other  effort  had 
failed.  True  to  her  wishes  in  death  as  in  life,  the  dead  emperor 
had  shut  his  eyes  to  earth  forever. 

"Come,  Charlotte,  come,"  cried  the  empress,  almost  joyfully, 
''  see  how  my  emperor  loves  me  !    He  hears  me  still,  and  has  granted 

10 


136  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

my  last  request.  I  will  mourn  no  more,  but  will  think  of  the  day 
when  I  shall  go  to  him  again  and  share  his  home  in  heaven.  Until 
then,  my  Franz,  farewell !" 

She  bent  her  head,  and  taking  the  shroud  from  her  shoulders, 
she  spread  it  carefully  over  the  coffin,  smoothing  every  MT-inkle 
with  her  hands,  until  it  lay  as  perfect  as  the  covering  of  a  couch. 

"Call  the  valets,  Charlotte,"  said  she;  and  as  they  entered  the 
room,  she  motioned  them  to  advance.  "  Help  me  to  lay  the  emperor 
on  yonder  bed, "  said  she.  "  Take  the  feet  and  body,  and  I  will  bear 
his  head." 

With  her  strong  arms,  she  raised  him  as  a  mother  would  move 
her  sleeping  child,  and,  with  the  helj)  of  the  valets,  she  laid  her 
husband  in  his  coffin.  This  done,  she  again  sent  awaj'  the  attend- 
ants, and  then  wrapijed  the  body  in  the  shroud  as  though  she  had 
been  protecting  it  from  the  cold. 

"  Come  hither,  Charlotte, "  said  she,  "  with  your  scissors. "  Char- 
lotte approached  noiselessly.  "Cut  off  my  hair,"  continued  she, 
taking  out  her  comb,  and  letting  down  the  rich  masses  until  it  fell 
about  her  person  like  another  shroud. 

"  No,  your  majesty,  no, "  cried  Charlotte,  bursting  into  tears.  "  I 
never  can  cut  off  that  magnificent  hair. " 

"Good  child,"  said  the  empress,  "many  a  weary  hour  has  that 
magnificent  hair  cost  you,  and  do  j'ou  ask  to  have  it  spared  ?  It 
shall  give  you  no  more  ti'ouble.     Take  the  scissors  and  cut  it  off  !" 

"Has  your  majesty  then  forgotten,  "pleaded  Charlotte,  "how 
dearly  the  emperor  loved  this  hair?" 

"No,  Charlotte,  and  therefore  he  must  have  it.  'Tis  the  last 
love-token  I  have  to  give  him.  I  cannot  die  with  him  like  an 
Indian  wife  ;  but  religion  does  not  forbid  me  to  lay  this  offering  at 
least  in  his  coffin.  He  used  so  often  to  pass  his  hands  through  it — 
he  was  so  proud  of  its  beauty,  that  now  he  is  gone,  no  one  else  shall 
see  it.     Say  no  more,  Charlotte,  but  cut  it  off. " 

The  empress  bent  her  head,  while  Charlotte,  with  a  heart-felt 
sigh  and  trembling  hands,  cut  off  the  long  and  beautiful  blond  hair 
which  Maria  Theresa  laid  as  a  love- token  in  the  coffin  of  her  hus- 
band.* 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

THE    IMPERIAL    ABBESS. 

The  funeral  rites  were  over.  In  the  crypt  of  the  church  of  the 
Capuchins,  under  the  monument  which,  twenty  years  before,  the 
empress  had  built  for  lierself  and  Jier  husband,  lay  the  body  of  Em- 
peror Francis.  In  this  vault  slept  all  the  imperial  dead  of  the  house 
of  Hapsburg.  One  after  another,  with  closed  eyes  and  folded  hands. 
their  marble  effigies  were  stretched  across  their  tombs,  stiff  and 
oold  as  the  bones  that  were  buried  beneath.  The  eternal  night  of 
deatli  reigned  over  those  couchant  images  of  stone  and  bronze. 

But  Maria  Theresa  and  her  emperor  liad  conquered  death.  Both 
rising  from  the  tomb,  their  eyes  were  fixed  ujwn  each  other  with 
an  expression  of  deepest  tenderness ;  while  Azrael,  who  stood  be- 
*  Caroline  Pichler,  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  p.  28. 


THE  IMPERIAL  ABBESS.  137 

hind  with  a  wreath  of  cypress  in  his  hands,  seemed  to  have  trans- 
formed himself  into  an  angel  of  love  that  sanctified  their  union  even 
beyond  the  tomb. 

All  had  left  the  vault  save  the  widowed  empress  ;  she  had  re- 
mained behind  to  weep  and  pray.  Her  prayers  ended,  she  drew  her 
long  black  cloak  around  her  and  strode  through  the  church,  unmind- 
ful of  the  monks,  who,  on  either  side  of  the  aisle,  awaited  her 
appearance  in  respectful  silence.  She  heeded  neither  their  inclined 
heads  nor  their  looks  of  sympathy  ;  stunned  by  grief,  she  was  un- 
mindful of  externals,  and  scarcely  knew  that  she  had  left  the  vault, 
when  her  coach  stopped  before  the  imperial  palace. 

Once  there,  Maria  Theresa  passed  by  the  splendid  apartments 
which  she  had  inhabited  during  her  husband's  life,  and  ascending 
the  staircase  to  the  second  stcrj'  of  the  palace,  she  entered  upon  the 
dwelling  which  had  been  prepared  for  her  widowhood.  It  was 
simple  to  coldness.  Hung  with  black,  nothing  relieved  the  gloom 
of  these  rooms ;  neither  mirror,  picture,  gilding,  nor  flowers  were 
there.  The  bedroom  looked  sad  in  the  extreme.  The  walls  were 
hung  in  gray  silk  ;  gray  velvet  curtains  were  drawn  in  front  of  the 
small  widow's  bed  ;  the  floor  was  covered  with  a  gray  carpet  studded 
with  white  lilies,  and  the  furniture  was  like  the  curtains,  of  dim, 
dull  gray  velvet.* 

As  the  empress  entered  this  dismal  room  she  saluted  her  ladies 
of  honor  who  had  followed  her,  and  now  stood  awaiting  her  com- 
mands at  the  door. 

"  Bring  all  my  dresses,  shawls,  laces,  and  jewels  to  me  in  the 
reception-room,  and  send  a  messenger  to  Prince  Kaunitz  to  say  that 
I  await  his  presence." 

The  ladies  of  honor  left  the  room  silently,  and  the  empress, 
closing  the  door,  began  again  to  weep  and  pray.  Meanwhile  her 
attendants  were  occupied  bringing  up  the  costly  wardrobe  of  their 
imperial  mistress.  In  a  little  while  the  dark  rooms  were  brightened 
with  velvet  and  silk  of  every  color,  with  gold  and  silver,  with 
jewels  and  flowers. 

The  ladies  looked  with  eager  and  admiring  eyes  at  the  magnifi- 
cence which  had  transformed  this  funereal  apartment  into  a  bazaar 
of  elegance  and  luxury,  scarcely  daring  to  speak  the  hopes  and 
wishes  that  were  filling  all  their  hearts.  Suddenly  their  curious 
eyes  sought  the  ground,  for  the  empress  appeared  and  entered  the 
room.  What  a  contrast  between  this  pale  figure,  clad  in  simplest 
mourning,  and  the  rich  costumes  which  in  the  days  of  her  happiness 
had  heightened  her  beauty  ;  those  days  which  seemed  to  lie  so  far, 
far  away  from  the  bitter  present ! 

The  empress  laid  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  as  if  to  stifle  a  cry  of 
anguish ;  then  approaching  the  black  marble  table,  she  took  up 
some  of  the  dresses  that  lay  upon  it. 

With  a  voice  softer  and  more  pathetic  than  ever  they  had  heard 
before,  she  begged  the  companions  of  her  happier  days  to  accept 
and  wear  these  costly  things  as  a  legacy  from  the  emperor.  She 
then  divided  them  as  she  thought  best ;  assigning  to  each  lady  what 
best  became  her  and  was  most  appropriate. 

Her  ladies  stood  weeping  around,  while  Maria  Theresa  besought 
each  one  to  pardon  the  trouble  she  had  given  in  her  joyous  days,  for 
the  sake  of  the  misery  she  now  endured.     And  as  she  entreated 
*  Caroline  Pichler,  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  p.  30. 


138  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

them  to  forget  that  she  had  been  imperious  and  exacting,  they  knelt 
weeping  at  her  feet,  and  earnestly  implored  her  not  to  leave  them. 

The  empress  sadly  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  no  longer  an  empress, " 
said  she,  "I  am  a  poor,  humbled  woman,  who  needs  no  more  attend- 
ance, whose  only  aim  on  earth  is  to  serve  God  and  die  in  His  favor  ! 
Pray  for  the  emperor,  dsar  friends,  and  pray  for  me  also. " 

Slowly  turning  away,  she  left  the  room  and  entered  her  cabinet, 
which  opened  into  the  gray  bedroom. 

"  And  now  to  my  last  worldly  task, "  said  she,  as  ringing  a  silver 
hand-bell  slie  bade  a  page  conduct  Prince  Kaunitz  to  her  presence. 

The  page  opened  the  door,  and  the  prince  came  in. 

The  empress  greeted  him  with  a  silent  bend  of  her  head,  and 
exhausted,  sank  into  an  ai-m -chair  that  stood  before  her  writing- 
desk.     Kaunitz,  without  awaiting  permission,  took  a  seat  opposite. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  At  length  Kaunitz  said  :  "  Your  majestj^ 
has  honored  me  by  commanding  my  pi'esence  hither." 

"  Yes,  I  sent  for  you  because  I  have  something  of  great  impor- 
tance to  sa3^  "  replied  the  emjiress. 

"I  am  all  attention,'"  replied  the  minister.  "For  it  is  worthy  of 
your  noble  self  so  soon  to  stifle  your  grief  and  to  attend  to  the  duties 
of  your  crown.  You  have  sent  for  me  that  we  may  work.  And 
your  majesty  has  done  well,  for  much  business  has  accumulated  on 
our  hands  since  we  last  held  a  cabinet  council. " 

The  empress  shook  her  head.  "  Business  no  longer  ti'oubles  me, " 
replied  she  ;  "I  have  sent  for  j'ou  to  say  that  we  are  no  longer  to 
work  together. " 

"  Does  that  mean  that  your  majesty  is  about  to  dismiss  me  in 
disgrace?  Are  you  no  longer  satisfied  with  your  minister?"  asked 
Kaunitz. 

"  No,  prince.  It  means  that  I  myself  must  retire  from  the  bustle 
and  vanities  of  tliis  world.  My  hands  are  no  longer  fit  to  wield  a 
sceptre  ;  they  must  be  folded  in  i^rayer — in  prayer  for  my  emperor, 
who  was  called .  away  without  receiving  the  sacraments  of  the 
church.  My  strength  is  gone  from  me  ;  my  crown  oppresses  me ;  I 
can  no  longer  be  an  empress. " 

"Were  you  made  a  sovereign  by  any  power  of  yours?"  asked 
Kaunitz.  "Had  yt)u  the  choice  of  becoming  an  empress  or  remain- 
ing an  archduchess?  What  did  your  majesty  say  to  me  when  the 
insolent  Cliarles  of  Bavaria  tried  to  wrest  your  imperial  crown 
from  your  head? — 'I  received  my  crown  fiom  the  hands  of  God, 
and  I  must  defend  my  divine  riglit!'  Floods  of  noble  blood  were 
spilled  that  i\Iaria  Theresa  might  preserve  her  right ;  and  does  she 
now  intend  to  dim  the  glory  of  her  crown  by  sacrificing  it  to  her 
soiTOw  as  a  wife?" 

"  I  am  tired  of  life  and  of  the  world,  and  I  intend  to  take  refuge 
from  tlieir  troubles  in  a  cloister.  Say  no  more!  I  am  resolved  to 
go,  and  the  palace  at  Innsjiruck  sliaTl  be  my  convent.  There,  on 
the  spot  where  he  died,  will  I  make  my  vows  ;  and  as  an  abbess  will 
I  sjiend  my  life  praying  tliat  God  may  give  him  eternal  rest.  My 
vocation  as  a  sovereign  is  at  an  end;  I  resign  my  sceptre  to  my 
son."* 

"That   means  that  your  majesty   will  destroy   with  your  own 
hands  the  structure  you  had  commenced  ;  that  you  have  grown  faint- 
hearted, and  are  unfaithful  to  your  dutj'  and  to  your  sulajects." 
*  Coxe,  "History  of  the  House  of  Austria,"  vol.  v.,  page  188. 


THE  IMPERIAL  ABBESS.  139 

"I  will  follow  the  steps  of  my  great  ancestor,  Charles  V.,"  cried 
the  empress  with  energy.  "  I  lay  down  my  earthly  dignity  to  hum- 
ble myself  before  God. " 

"  And  your  majesty  will  be  quite  as  unhappy  as  your  ancestor. 
Do  you  suppose  that  the  poor  monk  ever  was  able  to  forget  that  he 
had  been  a  great  prince?" 

"  And  yet  Charles  V.  remained  for  several  years  in  a  cloister. " 

"But  what  a  life,  your  majesty  !  A  life  of  regret,  repentance, 
and  despair.  Believe  me,  it  is  far  better  like  Csesar  to  die  pierced 
by  twenty  daggers  on  the  steps  of  a  throne,  than  voluntarily  to  de- 
scend from  that  throne  to  enter  the  miserable  walls  of  a  cloister. " 

"  Better  perhaps  for  those  who  have  not  renounced  the  world  and 
its  pomps, "  cried  the  empress,  raising  her  beautiful  eyes  to  heaven. 
"  But  it  is  neither  satiety  nor  weariness  of  grandeur  that  has  driven 
me  to  a  cloister.  It  is  my  love  for  my  emperor,  my  yearning  to  be 
alone  with  God  and  the  past. " 

"But,  your  majesty,"  said  Kaunitz  with  emphasis,  "you  will  not 
be  alone  with  the  past ;  the  maledictions  of  your  people  will  follow 
you  Will  they  hold  you  guiltless  to  have  broken  your  faith  with 
them?" 

"  I  shall  not  have  bi'oken  my  faith  ;  I  shall  have  left  to  my  people 
a  successor  to  whom  sooner  or  later  they  will  owe  the  same  allegiance 
as  they  now  owe  me. " 

"  But  a  successor  who  will  overturn  all  that  his  mother  has  done 
for  Austria's  welfare.  Your  majesty  laid  the  foundations  of  Aus- 
tria's greatness.  To  that  end  you  called  me  to  the  lofty  station 
which  I  now  occupy.  Remember  that  together  we  pledged  our  lives 
and  love  to  Austria.  Be  not  untrue  to  the  covenant.  In  the  name 
of  that  people  which  I  then  represented,  I  claim  from  their  emj)eror, 
Maria  Theresa,  the  strict  fulfilment  of  her  bond.  I  call  upon  her  to 
be  true  to  her  duty  as  the  ruler  of  a  great  nation,  until  the  hand  of 
God  releases  her  from  her  crown  and  her  life. " 

While  Kaunitz  spoke,  Maria  Theresa  walked  up  and  down  the 
room  with  troubled  brow  and  folded  arms.  As  he  ceased,  she  came 
and  stood  before  him,  looking  earnestly  into  his  face,  w^hich  now 
had  cast  aside  its  mask  of  tranquillity,  and  showed  visible  signs  of 
agitation. 

"You  are  a  bold  advocate  of  my  people's  claims,"  said  she;  "a 
brave  defender  of  my  Austria.  I  rejoice  to  know  it,  and  never  will 
take  umbrage  at  what  you  have  so  nobly  spoken.  But  you  have  not 
convinced  me  ;  my  sorrow  speaks  louder  than  your  arguments.  You 
have  termed  me  'your  emperor. '  I  know  why  you  have  once  more 
called  me  by  that  flattering  title.  You  wish  to  remind  me  that  in 
mounting  the  throne  of  my  ancestors  I  lost  the  right  to  grieve  as  a 
woman,  and  pledged  mj^self  to  gird  on  the  armor  of  manhood. 
Hitherto  I  have  made  it  my  pride  to  plan,  to  reign,  to  fight  like  a 
man.  I  have  always  feared  that  men  might  say  of  me  that  my  hand 
was  too  weak  to  grasp  the  reins  of  power.  But  God,  who  perhaps 
gave  me  the  head  of  a  man  while  leaving  me  the  heart  of  a  woman, 
has  punished  me  for  my  ambition.  He  has  left  me  to  learn  that, 
alas  !  I  am  but  a  woman — with  all  the  weakness  of  my  sex.  It  is 
that  womanly  heart  which,  throbbing  with  an  anguish  that  no 
words  can  paint,  has  vanquished  my  head ;  and  loud  above  all 
thoughts  of  my  duty  as  an  empress  is  the  wail  of  my  sorrow  as  a 
widow  !     But  I  will  show  you,  Kaunitz,  that  I  am  not  stubborn.     I 


140  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

shall  communicate  my  intentions  to  no  one.  For  four  weeks  I  will 
retire  to  my  cloister.  Instead  of  naming  Joseph  my  successor,  I 
will  appoint  him  co-regent.  If,  after  four  weeks  of  probation,  I 
still  feel  that  I  can  without  guilt  retire  from  the  world,  shall  I  then 
be  absolved  from  my  oath,  and  suffered  to  lay  down  my  crown 
without  reproach  from  my  faithful  minister?" 

•'If,  after  four  weeks  of  unlimited  power  delegated  to  the  Em- 
peror Joseph,  your  majesty  still  thinks  that  you  have  a  right  to 
abdicate,"  replied  Kaunitz,  "I  shall  make  no  opposition  to  your 
majesty's  choice  of  a  private  vocation,  for  I  shall  feel  that  after  that 
time  remonstrance  with  you  would  be  useless. " 

"Well,  then,  my  novitiate  shall  begin  to-morrow.  Apprise  the 
court  and  the  foreign  representatives  that  I  wish  to  meet  them  in 
the  throne-room,  where  in  their  presence  I  will  appoint  my  son 
emperor  co-regent. " 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

THE    CO -REGENT. 

Maria  Theresa  had  kept  her  word.  She  had  appointed  her  son 
co-regent,  investing  the  young  emperor  with  full  power  to  reign,  to 
make  laws,  to  punish,  to  reward,  and  to  govern  her  people,  while 
she  retired  to  the  palace  of  Innspruck.  There  she  dwelt  in  strictest 
privacy,  scarcely  seeing  her  children,  and  restricting  her  intercourse 
to  the  first  lady  of  honor,  her  confessor,  and  a  few  chosen  friends, 
whom  she  sometimes  admitted  to  her  mournful  rooms. 

Joseph,  the  young  emperor  of  four-and-twenty  years,  was  now 
monarch  of  all  Austria,  Hungary,  Lombardy,  and  the  Netherlands. 
He  had  reached  the  goal  of  his  longings  for  power,  and  now  he  could 
begin  to  think  about  tlie  happiness  of  his  people. 

Since  the  intoxicating  moment  when  Maria  Theresa,  in  the 
presence  of  the  whole  court,  had  named  him  co-regent,  and  delivered 
over  to  his  hands  her  vast  empire,  Joseph  felt  as  if  he  had  suddenly 
been  transported  to  a  world  of  enchantment.  He  had,  together 
with  her  ministers,  dissuaded  the  empress  from  her  resolution  of 
retiring  to  Innspruck  ;  but  even  as  he  joined  his  voice  to  theirs,  his 
heart  was  trembling  with  fear  lest  she  should  yield.  He  felt  that 
if  she  revoked  the  power  she  had  conferred,  he  would  almost  die 
with  disappointment.  But  the  empress  remained  firm,  and  her  son 
was  triumpliant. 

She  had  gone  from  the  throne  to  the  solitude  of  her  own  apart- 
ments, and  left  him  lord  and  emperor  of  Austria !  He  would  no 
longer  be  obliged  to  conceal  his  thoughts  ;  they  should  come  out  into 
the  broad  day  as  deeds,  for  he  was  sovereign  there  ! 

A  dav  and  night  liad  passed  by  since  his  mother  had  renounced 
her  riglits  to  him.  He  could  not  sleep.  His  head  was  full  of  plans, 
his  heart  of  emotion.  He  dared  not  sleep — he  who  was  the  guardian 
of  millions  of  his  fellow-beings— he  who  felt  ready  to  shed  his 
heart's  blood  for  their  good. 

On  the  first  dav,  Joseph  had  been  in  council  with  the  ministers 
of  state.  Tlie  will  of  the  doceased  emiieror  had  been  opened,  and 
his  son  now  learned,  that  while  his  mother  was  conferring  upon  him 


THE  CO-REGENT.  141 

power,  his  father  had  left  him  boundless  wealth.  The  Emperor 
Francis  had  left  his  eldest  son  sole  heir  to  his  estates  in  Hungary 
and  Galicia,  to  his  jewels  and  treasures,  and  also  to  the  millions  of 
money  which  he  had  accumulated  through  manufactures  and  trade. 
He  had  also  left  to  his  eldest  son  the  twenty -two  millons  of  coupons 
which  he  had  taken  for  the  gold  which  he  had  advanced  to  the  state 
for  the  prosecution  of  the  Seven  Years'  War.  Joseph  was  therefore 
the  richest  prince  in  all  Germany,  for  his  father's  vast  estates 
amounted  to  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine  millions  of  guilders.*  But 
he  who  had  been  so  intoxicated  with  joy  at  his  mother's  gift, 
seemed  scarcely  moved  at  all  as  he  received  the  tidings  of  his  vast 
inheritance. 

"  I  wish  that  my  father  had  bought  all  the  coupons  that  were 
issued,  and  that  they  were  all  mine, "  said  he,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Your  majesty  would  be  no  gainer  thereby, "  replied  the  lord 
keeper  of  the  finances,  Von  Kinsky.  "  These  coujjons  bear  but  little 
interest,  and  paper  money  is  not  gold.     Its  value  is  nominal." 

"But  it  has  one  merit,"  replied  the  emperor,  smiling;  "it  can 
be  burned.  Oh,  what  a  miserable  invention  is  this  paper  money, 
which  represents  value,  but  possesses  none  !  Suppose  that  all  the 
holders  of  these  coupons  were  to  come  in  this  morning  and  ask  for 
their  redemption,  could  the  imperial  coffers  meet  their  obligations?" 

"  Not  if  they  all  came  at  once,  your  majesty. " 

"  But  the  people  have  a  right  to  call  for  them, "  said  the  emperor. 
"In  lending  their  money,  they  showed  their  confidence  in  the  gov- 
ernment, and  this  confidence  must  not  be  betrayed.  Let  the  twenty- 
two  millions  of  coupons  be  put  in  a  package  and  brought  to  my 
private  apartments.     I  wish  to  dispose  of  them. " 

Throughout  this  day  Joseph  was  so  absorbed  by  business,  both 
private  and  official,  that  he  had  no  opportunity  of  exhibiting  him- 
self in  his  new  character,  either  to  his  family  or  his  subjects. 

But,  on  the  second  day  of  his  co-regency,  the  young  emperor 
appeared  in  public.  On  this  day,  the  Viennese  celebrated  the  de- 
liverance of  Vienna  from  the  Turks  by  John  Sobieski  and  his  brave 
Polish  legions.  The  mourning  of  the  female  members  of  the  im- 
perial family  did  not  permit  them  to  mingle  as  usual  with  the  people 
on  this  favorite  festival ;  but  the  emperor  resolved  to  show  himself 
on  this  occasion  in  the  character  of  a  sovereign.  All  Vienna  was 
eager  to  see  him  as  soon  as  it  became  rumored  that  he  would  cer- 
tainly attend  the  mass  in  honor  of  the  day  at  the  cathedral  of  St. 
Stephen. 

Meanwhile,  the  young  emperor  was  in  his  palace.  The  ante- 
rooms were  filled  with  petitioners  of  every  sort,  who,  through  bribes 
offered  to  the  members  of  the  imperial  household,  had  penetrated 
thus  far,  and  were  now  awaiting  the  appearance  of  the  emperor. 
The  anterooms  of  Maria  Theresa  had  always  been  thronged  with 
these  petitioners,  and  now  they  jostled  each  other  without  ceremony, 
each  one  hoping  to  be  remarked  by  the  emperor  as  he  passed  on  to 
his  carriage. 

Suddenly  the  commotion  ceased  and  took  the  form  of  a  panic  as 
the  door  opened  and  the  valets  of  the  emperor  came  forward,  their 
hands  filled  with  the  petitions  which  they  had  just  taken  in.  They 
had  all  been  refused  ! 

A  few  moments  afterward  the  door  opened  again,  and  the  lord 
*  Hubner,  "  Life  of  Joseph  II.,"  vol.  i.,  page 38. 


142  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

chamberlain,  Count  Rosenberg,  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the  room. 
There  was  no  necessity  for  the  pages  to  order  silence,  for  the  crowd 
were  breathless  with  expectation,  and  the  deepest  stillness  reigned 
throughout  the  thronged  rooms  while  Count  Rosenberg  read  the 
first  greeting  of  the  emperor  to  his  people. 

It  was  sharp,  and  to  the  pointj>  It  forbade,  in  strongest  terms, 
all  indirect  efforts  to  obtain  promotion  or  pensions  ;  and  it  declared 
once  for  all  that  merit  alone  would  be  the  test  of  all  applications 
presented  to  the  Emperor  Josejih  II. 

When  the  count  had  done  reading  the  proclamation,  the  valets 
laid  the  petitions  upon  a  table,  that  each  man  might  select  and 
remove  his  own  paper. 

"Your  majesty  has  made  some  enemies  to-day,"  said  Count 
Rosenberg,  as  he  reentered  the  cabinet  of  the  emperor.  "I  saw 
many  a  scowl  in  the  anteroom  as  I  passed  by  the  disappointed  mul- 
titude that  thronged  my  way. " 

"  I  do  not  wish  the  friendship  of  intriguers  and  flatterers, "  replied 
the  emperor  with  a  merry  laugh.  "If  my  proclamations  make  me 
enemies,  I  think  they  will  also  make  me  friends.  The  good  shall 
be  satisfied  with  my  rule;  for,  during  my  mother's  reign,  I  have 
observed  much  and  thought  much.  And  now  the  day  has  come 
when  the  power  is  mine  to  reward  virtue  and  punish  vice. " 

"May  Heaven  grant  that  your  majesty's  day  draw  to  a  close 
without  clouds  or  storms  !"  said  Rosenberg. 

The  emperor  laughed  again.  "What  do  you  fear,  my  friend?" 
asked  he.  "Have  you  so  long  shared  with  me  nay  burden  of  dis- 
simulation, that  you  are  frightened  to  see  our  shackles  fall?  Are 
you  afraid  of  the  fresh  air,  because  we  wear  our  masks  no  longer? 
Patience,  Rosenberg,  and  all  will  be  well  with  us.  Our  dreams  are 
about  to  be  fulfilled  :  what  we  have  whispered  together  in  the  twi- 
light of  mutual  trust,  we  may  now  cry  out  with  free  and  joyous 
shouts — 'Reform!  reform!'  My  people  have  prayed  quite  enough, 
they  shall  now  learn  to  do  something  better — they  shall  think  ;  they 
have  been  long  enough  led  by  faith,  like  little  children.  I  will  give 
them  confirmation,  and  they  shall  enter  upon  the  responsibilities  of 
manhood.  I  mean  to  be  a  blessing  to  the  virtuous,  and  a  terror  to 
the  vicious. " 

"  Unhappily,  there  is  more  evil  than  good  in  this  world, "  said 
Count  Rosenberg,  sighing,  "and  a  man,  though  he  can  seldom  count 
his  friends,  is  never  at  a  loss  to  count  his  enemies. " 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  Josepli,  smiling.  "I  intend  to 
draw  out  the  fangs  of  the  wicked,  so  that  they  shall  have  power  to 
injure  no  one. " 

"  Your  majesty  will  do  this  if  time  be  granted  you, "  said  the 
count.     "If—" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  cried  the  emperor,  impatiently,  as  Rosen- 
berg hesitated.     "Speak  on.     What  do  you  fear?" 

"I  fear,"  whispered  the  count,  "that  your  day  Avill  be  darkened 
by  bigots  and  priests.  I  fear  that  the  empress  will  not  leave  you 
freedom  to  carry  out  your  reformation.  I  fear  that  your  enemies 
will  dry  up  her  tears,  and  unclasp  lier  folded  hands,  to  force  within 
their  grasp  the  sceptre  to  which  your  niaiiliood  gives  you  exclusive 
right.  I  fear  the  influence  of  her  confessor.  Father  Porhammer  ; 
try  to  conciliate  him.  It  is  far  better  to  win  over  our  opponents  by 
forbearance,  than  to  exasperate  them  by  open  warfare. " 


THE  CO-REGENT.  143 

"  But  open  warfare  is  my  right, "  cried  Joseph,  "  and  I  am  power- 
ful enough  to  despise  all  opponents,  as  well  as  strong  enough  to 
pursue  my  way  without  regard  to  the  wickedness  of  all  the  bigots 
in  Christendom.  Face  to  face  shall  we  stand,  and  I  defy  them  all ! 
We  have  had  enough,  too,  of  Spanish  etiquette  and  Italian  mum- 
mery here.  Now  we  shall  have  honest  German  customs  ;  we  shall 
be  Germans  in  thought,  in  speech,  and  in  sentiment.  This  is  my 
dream,  my  bright  and  beautiful  dream  !  Austria  shall  one  day  be 
Germanized  ;  the  kingdoms  and  provinces  which  compose  my  do- 
minions shall  no  longer  be  separate  nationalities,  but  all  shall  be 
the  branches  of  one  lofty  tree.  The  limbs  shall  lose  their  names, 
and  be  called  by  that  of  the  trunk ;  and  tlie  trunk  shall  bear  the 
name  of  Germany.  High  above  the  boughs  of  this  noble  tree,  which 
shall  extend  from  France  to  Poland,  I  will  place  my  banner  and  my 
crown,  and  before  their  might  all  Europe  shall  bow.  This  is  my 
dream,  Rosenberg,  my  dream  of  future  greatness  !" 

"  While  I  listen  and  look  upon  your  majesty's  countenance,  bright 
with  inspiration,  I,  too,  bow  before  the  grandeiu-  of  your  thought, 
and  feel  as  if  this  godlike  dream  must  surely  become  a  glorious  truth. " 

"  It  shall  be  glorious  truth,  Rosenberg, "  exclaimed  the  emperor. 
"Why  should  Germany  be  severed  into  many  parts,  when  France 
and  Spain  are  each  a  kingdom  in  itself?  Why  is  England  so  power- 
ful? Because  Scotland  and  Ireland  have  lost  their  identity  in  hers. 
Sweden  and  Norway,  are  they  not,  or  rather  ought  they  not  to  be, 
one?  And  Russia,  how  many  different  races  own  the  sway  of  the 
mighty  Czar?  My  empire,  too,  shall  become  strong  through  unitj^, 
and  I  shall  be  not  only  emperor  of  Austria,  but,  in  veiy  deed  and 
truth,  emperor  of  all  Germany  !" 

Rosenberg  shook  his  head,  and  sighed.  "Ah,  your  majesty," 
said  he,  "you  are  so  young  that  you  believe  in  the  realization  of 
mortal  dreams. " 

"  I  do,  and  I  intend  to  work  out  their  realization  myself.  I  shall 
begin  by  being  German  myself.  I  intend  to  do  away  with  ceremonj-, 
priestcraft,  and  foreign  influence.  To  that  intent,  my  lord  cham- 
berlain, you  will  see  that  all  foreigners  are  dismissed  from  the 
palace,  and  their  places  supplied  by  Germans.  My  two  Italian 
valets  I  make  over  to  Porhammer.  Nothing  but  German  shall  be 
spoken  at  court.  I  will  have  neither  Fi'ench  nor  Italian  actors  here. 
Count  Durazzo  shall  dismiss  his  foreign  troupes  and  employ  Ger- 
mans in  their  stead.*  Let  him  see  that  the  German  stage  flourishes 
and  does  honor  to  the  metropolis  of  the  German  empire. " 

"This  is  an  ordinance  that  will  enchant  the  youths  of  Vienna," 
replied  the  count,  gayly. 

"  Here  is  another  which  will  equally  rejoice  their  hearts  as  well 
as  those  of  all  the  pretty  women  in  Vienna, "  added  the  emperor. 

"Your  majesty  means  to  revoke  the  power  of  the  committee  on 
morals  ?" 

"  Not  quite.  I  dare  not  fly  so  soon  in  the  face  of  mj'  lady- 
mother's  pet  institutions, "  returned  Joseph,  laughing;  "but  I  shall 
suspend  them  until  further  notice.  Now  the  pretty  sinners  may  all 
go  to  sleep  in  peace.  Now  the  young  girls  of  Vienna  may  walk  the 
streets  M-ithout  being  asked  whither  they  go,  or  whence  they  come. 
Reform  !  reform  !  But  hark  !  there  are  the  church-bells ;  I  go  to 
exhibit  myself  to  my  subjects.     Come,  let  us  away. " 

* Gross-Hofftnger,  "  Histoiy  of  Joseph  11.,''  vol.  i.,  p.  91. 


144  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  But  your  majesty  has  not  made  your  toilet.  The  valets  are  now 
waiting  with  your  Spanish  coui-t-dress  in  your  dressing-room." 

"  I  make  them  a  present  of  it, "  said  the  emperor.  "  The  day  of 
Spanish  court-dresses  is  over.  The  uniform  of  my  reigment  shall  be 
my  court-dress  hereafter,  so  that  you  see  I  am  dressed  and  ready. " 

"  Then  allow  me  to  order  that  the  carriage  of  state  be  prepared 
for  your  majesty. " 

"Oi'der  that  the  carriage  of  state  be  left  to  rot  in  the  empress's 
stables, "  returned  Joseph.  "The  day  of  etiquette,  also,  is  over.  I 
am  a  man  like  other  men,  and  have  as  much  use  of  my  limbs  as 
they.     Let  cripples  and  dotards  ride — I  shall  go  to  church  on  foot. " 

"But  your  majesty,"  remonstrated  Rosenberg,  "what  will  the 
people  say  when  they  see  their  emperor  stripped  of  all  the  pomp  of 
his  high  station?  They  will  think  that  you  hold  them  too  cheaply 
to  visit  them  in  state." 

"  No,  no.  My  people  will  feel  that  I  come  among  them,  not  with 
the  cold  splendor  of  my  rank,  but  with  the  warmth  of  hiiman  sj'm- 
pathy  and  human  nature,  and  they  will  greet  me  with  more  enthu- 
siasm than  if  I  came  in  my  carriage  of  state." 

The  emperor  was  right.  The  people  who  had  thronged  every 
street  through  which  he  was  to  pass,  shouted  for  joy,  when  they  saw 
the  ruler  of  all  Austria  on  foot,  accompanied  by  a  few  of  his  friends, 
making  his  way  among  them  with  as  much  simplicity  as  a  burgher. 

At  first  astonishment  had  repressed  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Vien- 
nese, but  this  momentary  reticence  overcome,  the  subjects  of  Joseph 
the  Second  rent  the  air  with  their  cries  of  welcome,  and  pressed 
around  his  path,  all  eager  to  look  into  the  face  of  the  sovereign  who 
walked  among  his  people  as  an  equal  and  a  man. 

"See  him  !  see  him  !"  cried  they.  "See  the  German  prince  who. 
is  not  ashamed  to  be  a  German  !  See  our  emperor  in  the  uniform  of 
the  German  infantry !  Long  live  the  emperor !  Long  live  our 
fatherland  !  Long  live  the  emperor  !"  shouted  the  multitude,  while 
Joseph,  his  heart  overflowing  with  joy,  made  his  way  at  last  to  the 
cathedral  of  St.  Stephen. 

And  now  the  trumpets  sounded,  and  the  might}'  organ  thundered 
forth  a  welcome,  while  cardinals  and  priests  lifted  their  voices,  and 
the  clergy  sang  the  '■''  Sahnnn  fac  imperatomm  nostmvi. " 

And  ever  and  anon,  through  the  open  windows  of  the  cathedral, 
the  people  shouted,  "  Long  live  the  emperor  !  Long  live  our  father- 
land !" 

Overcome  by  the  ovation,  Joseph  sank  down  upon  his  knees,  and 
his  heart  softened  by  the  scene,  the  circumstances,  and  the  sublime 
chants  of  the  church,  he  prayed.  Clasping  his  hands,  lie  prayed 
that  God  might  give  him  strength  to  do  his  duty  to  his  subjects, 
and  to  make  them  happy. 

The  '^  Salviim  fac  imperatorumi'''  over,  the  mass  for  the  repose  of 
the  soul  of  Sobieski  and  his  twelve  thousand  Poles  was  intoned. 
The  emperor  prayed  for  them,  and  thanked  the  Almightj-  Ruler  of 
all  things  for  the  rescue  they  had  brought  to  Vienna  in  her  hour  of 
danger  from  the  infidel. 

This  was  the  first  public  act  of  Joseph's  reign  as  co-regent. 

The  mass  over,  the  people  witnessed  another  public  act  of  the 
young  emperor's  reign.  While  Joseph,  smiling  and  bending  his 
head  to  tlie  crowds  that  pressed  aroiuid  him,  was  quietly  pursuing 
his  way  back  to  the  palace,  a  procession  was  seen  coming  through 


HAROUN  AL  RASCHID.  145 

the  streets  which  attracted  the  attention  of  the  multitude,  and  called 
forth  their  wonder. 

First  came  a  file  of  soldiers,  with  shouldered  carbines,  then  an 
open  vehicle  drawn  by  horses  from  the  imperial  stables,  then  another 
file  of  soldiers.  Within  the  wagons  sat  several  officers  of  the  em- 
peror's household,  with  large  rolls  of  paper  in  their  hands,  and  be- 
hind it  was  a  detachment  of  cavalry  with  drawn  sabres. 

"What  means  this  pageant?"  asked  the  people  of  one  another. 

For  all  answer  to  this  question,  the  multitudes  pressed  forward 
and  fell  in  with  the  mysterious  procession. 

The  train  moved  on,  until  it  arrived  at  an  open  market-place, 
where  it  halted.  In  the  centre  of  the  square  was  a  heap  of  fagots, 
near  which  stood  two  men  with  lighted  torches  in  their  hands. 

"An  execution!"  cried  the  terror-stricken  multitude.  "But 
what  an  execution  !     Who  was  to  be  burnt  at  the  stake?" 

While  the  crowd  were  murmuring  within  themselves,  the  oflScers 
of  the  emperor's  household  advanced  to  the  pile,  and  laid  the  rolls 
of  papers  which  they  had  brought,  upon  it.  They  then  signed  to 
the  people  for  silence,  and  one  of  the  officers  addressed  the  crowd. 

"  The  Emperor  Joseph,  co- regent  with  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa, 
sends  greeting  to  his  subjects,"  cried  he  in  a  clear,  loud  voice. 
"To-day,  the  first  of  his  reign,  and  the  festival  of  John  Sobieski  the 
deliverer  of  Vienna,  he  wishes  to  prove  to  his  people  how  much  he 
loves  them.  In  testimony  whereof,  he  presents  to  tliem  twentj"-two 
millions  of  coupons,  bequeathed  to  him  by  his  father  the  late  Em- 
peror Francis.  These  papers  are  the  coupons.  In  the  name  of  the 
Emperor  Joseph  approach,  ye  torch -bearers,  and  kindle  the  pile, 
that  the  people  of  Austria,  made  richer  by  twenty-two  millions,  may 
recognize,  in  this  sacrifice,  the  love  of  their  sovereign. " 

The  torches  were  applied,  and  high  in  the  air  soared  the  flames 
that  were  consuming  the  emperor's  bequest,  while  the  faces  of  the 
multitude  around  were  lit  up  by  the  glare  of  the  burning  pile. 

The  bells  of  the  churches  began  to  chime,  the  flames  soared 
higher  and  higher,  and  the  people  looked  on  in  wondering  gratitude 
at  the  twenty-two  millions  of  consuming  guilders,  which  were  the 
first  offering  of  Joseph  II.  to  his  subjects.* 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

HAROUN  AL  RASCHID. 

The  emperor  was  alone  in  his  dressing-cabinet.  He  stood  before 
a  mirror,  covering  his  rich  blond  curls  with  a  large  wig,  which  fell 
in  long  ringlets  over  his  shoulders,  and  completed  the  very  singular 
costume  in  which  it  had  pleased  his  majesty  to  array  himself. 

The  emperor  surveyed  himself  with  evident  satisfaction,  and 
broke  out  into  a  hearty  laugh.  "I  think, "  said  he,  "that  in  this 
dark-haired  fop,  with  his  fashionable  costume,  no  one  will  recog- 
nize the  emperor.  I  suppose  that  in  this  disguise  I  may  go  unde- 
tected in  search  of  adventures.  If  I  am  to  be  of  use  as  a  prince,  I 
must  see  all  things,  prove  all  thiugs,  and  learn  all  things.  It  is 
written,  'Prove  all  things,  and  hold  fast  to  that  which  is  good.'  I 
*Hormayer,  "Austrian  Plutarch,"  vol.  i.,  p.  129. 


146  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

am  afraid  that  I  shall  not  hold  fast  to  much  that  comes  under  my 
obsei'vation. " 

He  drew  back  from  the  mirror,  threw  over  his  shoulders  a  little 
cloak,  bordered  with  fur,  set  a  three-cornered  hat  upon  the  top  of 
his  wig,  took  up  a  small  gold-headed  cane,  and  then  returned  to 
survey  himself  a  second  time. 

"  A  fop  of  the  latest  style — that  is  to  say,  a  fool  of  the  first  water 
— looks  out  upon  liimself  from  this  looking-glass, "  said  he,  laughing. 
"  It  would  be  an  aiiront  to  my  majesty  if  any  one  were  to  presume 
to  suspect  the  emperor  under  this  absurd  disguise.  I  hope  I  shall 
be  as  successful  in  the  way  of  adventures  as  was  my  predecessor 
Haroun  al  Raschid. " 

He  drew  his  cloak  close  around  him,  and  stepped  from  a  little 
private  door  that  opened  from  his  dressing-room  into  the  corridor 
which  led  to  the  apartments  of  his  wife.  Retired  and  unobserved, 
the  Empress  Josepha  lived  within  these  rooms,  which,  from  the 
first  night  of  their  marriage,  her  husband  had  never  reentered.  The 
corridor  was  empty.  Joseph  could  therefore  pass  out  unobserved, 
until  he  reached  a  private  staircase  leading  to  the  lower  floor  of  the 
palace.  Once  there,  he  raised  his  head,  and  stepped  boldly  out  into 
the  hall.  The  porters  allowed  him  to  pass  without  suspicion,  and, 
unrecognized,  the  young  adventurer  reached  the  public  thorough- 
fares. 

"Now,"  thought  he,  with  a  sensation  of  childish  delight,  "now  I 
am  free,  a  man  just  like  other  men.  I  defy  any  one  to  see  my  divine 
right  upon  my  brow,  or  to  observe  any  difference  between  the  '  im- 
perial blue'  of  my  eyes,  and  the  ordinary  blue  of  those  of  my 
subjects. " 

"Halt,  there!"  cried  a  threatening  voice  to  the  careless  pedes- 
ti-ian.  "  Out  of  the  way,  young  coxcomb ;  do  you  svippose  that  I 
must  give  way  to  you?" 

"  Not  at  all,  your  worship, "  replied  Joseph,  smiling,  as  with  an 
active  bound  he  cleared  the  way  for  a  colossal  carman,  who,  covered 
with  sweat  and  dust,  was  wheeling  a  load  of  bricks  in  a  baiTow. 

The  carman  stopped,  and  surveying  the  emperor  angrily,  cried 
out  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "What  do  you  mean  by  calling  me  'your 
worship?'  Do  you  mean  to  insult  me  because  you  are  wasting  your 
fatlier's  money  on  your  pretty  person,  decked  out  like  a  flower-girl 
on  a  holiday?" 

"Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  seek  to  insult  you!"  replied  the 
emperor.  "The  size  of  your  fists  is  enough  to  inspire  any  one  with 
respect.     For  all  the  world  I  would  not  offend  their  owner. " 

"Well,  then,  go  your  way,  you  whippersnapper, "  muttered  the 
carman,  while  the  emperor  congratulated  himself  upon  having 
gotten  out  of  the  scrape  without  detection. 

"It  would  have  been  a  prettty  anecdote  for  the  histoiy  of  the 
Emperor  Joseph,  had  lie  been  discovered  in  a  street  brawl  with  a 
carman,"  said  he  to  himself.  "A  little  more,  and  my  imperial  face 
would  have  been  pounded  into  jelly  by  that  Hercules  of  a  fellow ! 
It  is  not  sucli  an  easy  matter  as  I  liad  supposed,  to  mix  on  e(iual 
terms  with  other  men  !  But  I  shall  learn  by  bitter  experience  how 
to  behave. " 

At  this  moment  Joseph  heard  the  sounds  of  weeping.  Turning, 
he  beheld  coming  toward  him  a  young  girl  of  about  sixteen,  whose 
slight  ligure,  in  s^nte  of  the  cool  autunm  day,  was  scarcely  covered 


HAROUN  AL  RASCHID.  147 

by  a  thin,  patched  dress  of  dark  stuff.  An  old,  faded  silk  handker- 
chief was  thrown  over  her  shoulders ;  her  sweet,  pale  face  was  be- 
dewed with  tears,  and  her  lips  were  murmuring  gentle  complaints, 
though  no  one  stopped  to  listen.  On  her  right  arm  she  carried  a 
bundle,  which  every  now  and  then  she  watched,  as  if  afraid  that 
some  one  might  rob  her  of  its  treasures. 

Suddenly  a  kind  voice  whispered,  "Why  do  you  weep,  my  child?" 

The  young  girl  started  and  met  the  gaze  of  a  young  man,  whose 
blue  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  with  an  expression  of  tenderest  sym- 
pathy. 

"  I  weep, "  said  she,  "  because  1  am  unhappy, "  and  she  quickened 
her  steps  that  she  might  leave  him  behind.  But  the  emperor  kept 
pace  with  her. 

"Why  do  you  walk  so  fast?  are  you  afraid  of  me?" 

"I  fear  the  committee  of  morals,"  said  she,  blushing.  "If  they 
should  see  me  with  you,  I  might  be  mistaken  for — " 

"  Have  you  ever  been  suspected  by  them  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  although  I  have  always  tried,  when  I  was  in  the 
streets,  to  avoid  observation.  Go,  sir,  go.  Do  not  heed  my  tears. 
I  am  accustomed  to  misfortune." 

"But  it  is  said  that  the  emperor  has  suspended  the  office  of  that 
committee. " 

"I  am  glad  of  it,"  replied  the  girl,  "for  good  and  evil  are  alike 
exposed  to  susijicion  ;  and  I  would  like  to  walk  the  streets  without 
fear  of  being  taken  for  what  I  am  not. " 

"Where  are  you  going,  child?" 

"  I  am  going, "  replied  she,  ^\'ith  a  fresh  burst  of  tears,  "  to  sell 
the  clothes  I  carry  in  this  bundle. " 

"What  clothes,  child?" 

"  The  last  decent  covering  that  my  poor  mother  owns, "  sobbed 
the  girl. 

"You  are,  then,  very  poor?"  asked  the  emperor,  softly. 

"Very  poor.  We  are  often  hungry,  and  have  no  food  but  our 
own  bitter  tears.  These  are  the  last  clothes  we  have,  but  they  must 
go  for  bread,  and  then  perhaps  we  shall  perish  of  cold. " 

"  Poor  girl !  have  you  no  father?" 

"My  father  died  in  defence  of  Austria  and  the  empress,  and  as  a 
reward  of  his  devotion  to  his  sovereign,  his  wife  and  child  have 
been  left  to  die  of  want." 

"Your  father  was  a  soldier?"  asked  the  emperor,  much  affected^ 

"He  was  an  officer,  who  sei'ved  with  distinction  in  the  Seven 
Years'  War.  But  he  never  was  promoted.  He  died  for  Maria 
Theresa,  and  his  widow  and  child  will  soon  follow  him  to  the  grave. " 

"Why  have  you  never  applied  to  the  empress  for  relief?  Her 
purse  is  always  open  to  the  wants  of  the  needy. " 

"To  obtain  any  thing  from  royalty,  sir,  you  know  that  one  must 
have  influence, "  replied  the  girl,  bitterly.  "  We  have  no  influence, 
nor  would  we  know  how  to  intrigue  for  favor. " 

"Why,  then,  do  you  not  go  to  the  emperor?  He  at  least  has  no 
fancy  for  intriguers  and  flatterers.     You  should  have  gone  to  him." 

"To  be  haughtily  repulsed?"  said  she.  "Oh,  sir,  the  new  em- 
peror is  a  man  whose  only  love  is  a  love  of  power,  and  whose  only 
pleasure  is  to  make  that  power  felt  by  others.  Has  he  not  already 
refused  to  listen  to  any  petition  whatever?  Did  he  not  forbid  his 
people  to  come  to  him  for  favors?" 


148  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"He  did  that,"  replied  Joseph,  "because  he  wished  to  do  justice 
to  all ;  and  for  that  reason  he  has  done  away  with  all  presentation 
of  petitions  through  courtiers  or  other  officers  of  his  household. 
But  he  has  appointed  an  hour  to  receive  all  those  who  present  their 
petitions  in  person." 

"  So  he  has  said, "  returned  the  girl,  "  but  no  one  believes  him. 
His  guards  will  turn  away  all  who  are  not  richly  dressed,  and  so 
the  emperor  will  have  promised  to  see  the  people,  though  the  people 
will  never  be  allowed  to  come  into  his  presence. " 

"  Have  the  Austrians  so  little  faith  in  the  sincerity  of  the  em- 
peror?" asked  Joseph.     "  Do  they  think  that  his  heart — " 

"His  heart!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "The  emperor  is  without  a 
heart.  Even  toward  his  mother  he  is  said  to  be  undutiful  and  ob- 
stinate. He  hates  his  wife,  and  she  is  as  mild  as  an  angel.  He 
whose  pleasure  it  is  to  see  an  empress  at  his  feet,  do  you  suppose 
that  he  can  sympathize  with  the  misfortunes  of  his  subjects?  No, 
no  ;  he  has  already  stopped  all  pensions  which  the  generous  empress 
had  given  from  her  private  purse. " 

"  Because  he  intends  to  bestow  them  upon  worthier  objects. " 

"  No,  no  ;  it  is  because  he  is  a  miser. " 

"He  a  miser!"  cried  Josejjh.  "Did  he  not  some  days  ago  burn 
up  twenty-two  naillions  of  coupons?" 

"  It  was  said  so ;  but  no  one  saw  them ;  and  it  is  whispered 
that  the  twenty-two  millions  were  nothing  but  pieces  of  waste 
paper. " 

The  emperor  was  speechless.  He  looked  at  this  young  traducer 
with  an  expression  of  real  horror. 

"  How !"  at  length  said  he,  in  a  voice  choked  by  emotion,  "  the 
emperor  is  suspected  of  such  baseness  !" 

"He  is  known  to  be  selfish  and  miserly, "  replied  his  tormentor. 

Joseph's  eyes  flashed  with  anger  ;  but  conquering  his  bitterness, 
he  constrained  himself  to  smile. 

"My  child,"  said  he,  "you  have  been  deceived.  If  you  knew  the 
emperor,  you  would  find  that  he  is  generous  and  ready  to  do  justice 
to  all  men.  Go  home  and  write  your  petition  ;  and  come  to-day  at 
noon  to  the  imperial  palace.  The  guards  will  allow  you  to  pass, 
and  a  servant  will  be  there  to  conduct  you  to  me.  I,  myself,  will 
present  your  petition,  and  I  know  that  the  emperor  will  not  refuse 
a  pension  to  the  widow  and  child  of  a  brave  Austrian  officer. " 

The  girl's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  as  she  attempted  to  thank  her 
unknown  benefactor. 

But  the  emperor,  who  had  allowed  her  to  abuse  him  without 
interruption,  would  not  listen  to  her  praises. 

"  Your  mother  is  sick,  and  needs  care, "  said  he.  "  Go  home,  and 
do  not  sell  your  clothes,  for  you  will  need  them  to  visit  the  emperor. 
How  much  did  you  expect  to  get  for  them?" 

"  I  expected  seven  ducats,  for  a  portion  of  this  clothing  is  my 
mother's  wedding-dress." 

"Then,  my  child,  let  me  beg  you  to  accept  twelve,"  said  he, 
drawing  out  his  purse.  "I  hope  they  will  suffice  for  your  wants 
imtil  the  emperor  fills  them  all." 

The  young  girl  bent  over  and  kissed  Joseph's  hand.  "Oh,  sir," 
said  she,  "you  save  us  from  deatli,  and  we  have  nothing  to  offer  in 
return  but  our  poor  prayers. " 

"  Pray  for  the  emperor, "  said  he,  gently.     "  Pray  God  that  he 


THE  DISGUISE  REMOVED.  149 

may  win  the  love  of  his  people.  Farewell !  I  shall  wait  for  you  to- 
day, at  noon." 

With  these  words,  Joseph  quickened  his  pace,  and  was  soon  lost 
to  view. 

"  My  second  adventure, "  thought  he.  "  I  must  confess  that  it  is 
not  very  flattering  to  walk  incognito  about  the  streets  and  hear  the 
sentiments  of  one's  own  subjects.  How  often  do  kings  mistake  the 
murmurings  of  discontent  for  the  outpourings  of  joy  !  It  is  so 
pleasant  to  believe  in  the  love  of  our  subjects,  and  to  shut  our  eyes 
to  all  doubts  of  their  loyalty  !  But  I  am  resolved  to  see  and  judge 
of  the  people  for  myself.  My  path  will  often  be  beset  with  thorns, 
but  Fate  has  not  made  me  a  monarch  for  my  own  good  ;  I  am  an 
emperor  for  the  good  of  others.  That  child  has  revealed  some  pain- 
ful trutlis  to  me ;  it  would  seem  as  if  I  were  fated  forever  to  be 
misjudged. " 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

THE     DISGUISE    REMOVED. 

At  mid-day  the  emperor  reentered  the  palace  gates.  This  time 
he  came  through  the  principal  entrance,  feeling  quite  secure  in  his 
disguise. 

He  proceeded  at  once  to  the  hall  of  reception,  wondering  whether 
his  young  protegee  would  present  herself  as  he  had  requested  her  to 
do. 

The  sentries  allowed  him  to  pass,  supposing  him  to  be  one  of 
those  about  to  seek  an  audience  with  the  emperor.  Unsuspected  he 
reached  the  hall. 

Yes,  there  was  his  little  accuser.  She  stood  trembling  and  blush- 
ing in  one  corner  of  the  room,  holding  in  her  hand  a  paper.  As  she 
recognized  her  unknown  protector,  she  hastened  to  meet  him,  and 
timidly  gave  him  her  hand. 

"Oh,  sir,"  said  she,  "you  have  been  true  to  your  word.  I  was  so 
afraid  you  would  forget  me,  that  I  was  several  times  on  tlie  point  of 
leaving  this  grand  place.  I  feel  lonely  and  asliamed  ;  for  you  see 
that  no  one  is  here  but  myself.  Nobody  trusts  the  emperor.  And  I, 
who  am  here,  will  surely  be  repulsed  ;  he  never  will  be  as  kind  as 
3^ou  have  been  to  a  poor,  friendless  girl.  My  mother  has  no  hope ; 
and  if  she  has  sent  me  to  the  palace,  it  was  that  I  might  see  you 
again,  and  once  more  pour  forth  my  gratitude  for  your  kindness. 
If  you  would  add  another  to  the  generous  gift  you  have  already  be- 
stowed, tell  me  your  name,  that  my  mother  and  I  may  beg  God's 
blessing  upon  it,  and  then  let  me  go,  for  I  feel  tliat  my  visit  here 
will  be  vain  !" 

"My  dear  child,"  said  Joseph,  laughing,  "if  all  the  emperor's 
opponents  were  as  headstrong  as  you,  the  poor  man  would  have  but 
little  hope  of  ever  gaining  the  good-will  of  his  subjects.  But  I  in- 
tend to  prove  to  you  that  you  are  unjust.  Give  me  your  petition. 
I  myself  will  present  it  for  you.  Wait  awhile,  until  I  send  a  mes- 
senger who  will  conduct  you  to  the  emperor.  Follow  him  and  fear 
nothing,  for  I  shall  be  there,  too,  and  there  I  will  tell  you  my  name. 
Au  revoir. " 

The  young  girl  looked  anxiously  after  him  as  he  disappeared. 


150  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

and  once  more  betook  herself  to  the  window.  Gradually  the  room 
tilled  with  a  sad,  humble,  and  trembling  crowd,  such  as  often 
throngs  the  anterooms  of  princes  and  nobles — a  crowd  which,  with 
tearful  eyes  and  sorrowing  hearts,  so  often  returns  home  without 
succor  and  without  hope. 

But  the  people  who  were  assembled  in  this  hall  of  reception 
seemed  more  sanguine  than  is  usual  with  petitioners  for  imperial 
favor.  They  cliatted  together  of  their  various  expectations ;  they 
.spoke  of  the  emperor's  benevolence;  and  all  seemed  to  hope  that 
tliey  would  be  heard  with  patience,  and  favorably  answered. 

A  door  opened,  and  an  officer  entered.  He  looked  sharply  around 
the  room,  and  then  went  directly  to  the  window,  where  the  young 
girl,  with  a  beating  heart,  was  listening  to  the  praises  of  that  em- 
peror whom  in  her  soul  slie  believed  to  be  a  tyrant. 

"  The  emperor  will  be  here  presently, "  said  the  officer,  in  answer 
to  a  storm  of  inquiries  from  every  side.  "  But  I  have  been  ordered 
first  to  conduct  tliis  young  lady,  the  daughter  of  a  deceased  ofiicer, 
to  his  majesty's  presence. " 

She  followed  him,  silent  and  anxious.  They  went  through  suites 
of  splendid  rooms,  whose  costly  decorations  struck  the  child  of 
poverty  with  new  dismay.  At  last  they  stopped  in  a  richly  gilded 
saloon,  covered  with  a  carpet  of  Gobelin,  and  hung  with  the  same 
rich  tapestry. 

"  Remain  here, "  said  the  officer,  "  while  I  announce  you  to  his 
majesty. " 

He  disappeared  behind  the  velvet  portiere,  and  the  frightened 
girl  remained  with  a  crowd  of  richly-dressed  nobles,  whose  embroi- 
dered court- dresses  and  diamond  crosses,  almost  blinded  her  with 
their  splendor. 

Once  more  the  portiere  was  drawn  aside,  and  the  officer  beckoned 
the  girl  to  advance.  She  did  so  with  trembling  limbs  and  throbbing 
heart.  The  hangings  fell,  and  she  was  in  the  dread  presence  of  the 
emperor.  He  stood  near  a  window  with  his  back  toward  her — a 
tall,  graceful  man,  in  a  white  uniform. 

The  poor  girl  felt  as  if  she  would  cease  to  breathe,  for  this  was 
the  decisive  moment  of  her  young  life.  The  emperor  could  either 
consign  her  to  misery,  or  raise  her  to  comfort,  and  wipe  away  the 
tears  of  her  dear,  suffering  mother. 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her  with  a  benevolent  smile.  "Come 
hither,  my  child,"  said  he.  "You  would  speak  Avith  the  emperor. 
I  am  he." 

The  girl  uttered  a  stifled  ciy,  and  falling  on  her  knees,  she  hid 
her  death-like  face  in  her  hands.  For  sh(>  had  recognized  her  un- 
known protector.  Yes,  this  noble  man,  wlio  liad  proffered  help  and 
promised  protection,  this  was  the  emperor,  and  to  his  face  she  had 
called  liim  miser  and  tyrant! 

She  never  for  one  moment  tliought  whether  he  would  punish  her 
insolence  ;  she  had  b\it  one  feeling,  thnt  of  unspeakable  anguish  for 
having  wounded  a  noble  and  generous  heart.  This  alone  caused  her 
shame  and  grief. 

Tlie  emperor  approached,  and  looked  with  tenderness  at  the 
kneeling  maiden,  through  whose  fingers  lier  tears  were  flowing  m 

strennis.  i      i\ 

"I  have  read  your  petition,  and  liave  found  that  you  spoke  tne 
truth.     From  this  day  your  father's  pay  falls  to  your  mother;  and 


ROSARY  AND  SCEPTRE.  151 

at  her  death  it  shall  revert  to  5'ou.  I  beg  you  both  to  forgive  the 
tardiness  of  this  act  of  justice  ;  for  neither  the  empress  nor  I  liad 
ever  heard  that  your  father  had  any  family.  Once  more  forgive  us 
for  all  that  you  have  endured  since  his  death.  And  now,  my  child, 
rise  from  your  knees ;  for  human  beings  should  kneel  before  God 
alone.  Dry  your  teai-s,  and  hasten  to  your  mother.  Tell  her  that 
the  emperor  is  not  as  heartless  as  he  has  been  pictured  to  her  by  his 
enemies." 

"  No,  no, "  cried  she,  "  I  cannot  rise  until  my  sovereign  has  for- 
given my  presumption  and  my  calumnies." 

"  They  are  forgiven ;  for  what  could  you  know  of  me,  you  poor 
child,  but  what  you  had  been  told?  But  now  you  know  me  your- 
self ;  and  for  the  future  if  you  hear  me  traduced,  you  will  defend 
me,  will  you  not?"*  He  reached  out  his  hand,  which  she  kissed 
and  bedewed  with  her  tears. 

The  empex-or  raised  her  tenderly.  "Be  comforted;  for  if  you 
cry  so  bitterly  my  courtiers  will  think  that  I  have  been  unkind  to 
you.  You  told  me  just  now  that  you  wished  to  know  the  name  of 
your  protector  that  you  might  pray  for  him.  Well,  my  child,  pray 
for  me — my  name  is  Joseph. " 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

ROSARY  AND  SCEPTRE. 

The  four  weeks  to  which  Maria  Theresa  had  limited  her  novitiate 
had  almost  expired.  She  still  secluded  herself  from  the  world,  and, 
in  the  deep  retirement  of  her  palatial  cloister,  would  suffer  no  men- 
tion of  worldly  affairs  in  her  presence. 

In  vain  her  confessor  and  her  attendants  strove  to  awaken  her 
interest  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  people  with  the  wild  projects 
of  reform  that  threatened  the  subversion  of  all  social  order.  From 
the  day  of  her  retirement,  Maria  Theresa  had  forbidden  the  slightest 
allusion  to  politics.  Her  confesser  had  on  one  occasion  ventured  a 
hint  on  the  subject  of  the  changes  which  were  being  made  by  the 
emperor,  but  the  empress  had  tvu-ned  her  flashing  eyes  upon  him, 
and  had  reminded  him  that,  as  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  he  was 
there  to  exhort  and  to  pray,  not  to  concern  himself  about  the  triv- 
ialities of  this  world. 

On  another  occasion  the  Covmtess  Fuchs  had  presumed  to  mention 
the  changes  in  the  imjierial  household.  The  empress  interrupted 
her  coldly,  saying  that  if  she  had  not  lost  her  relish  for  the  vanities 
of  the  court,  the  countess  must  absent  herself  until  further  orders. 

This  severity  had  put  an  end  to  all  plans  for  inducing  the  em- 
press to  resume  the  cares  of  empire.  She  was  now  at  liberty  to 
weep  and  pray  without  distraction.  Even  her  children,  who  came 
daily  to  kiss  her  hand,  were  allowed  no  conversation  but  that  which 
turned  upon  religion.  When  the  morning  services  were  ended, 
they  .silently  withdrew  to  their  rooms. 

For  a  few  days  past,  the  Archduchess  Christina  had  absented 
herself  from  this  mournful  levee.  On  the  first  day  of  her  non- 
appearance the  empress  had  not  appeared  to  remark  her  absence. 
.J  ^  *  Historical. 


152  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

But  on  the  second  day  her  eyes  wandered  sadly  from  her  prayer- 
book  to  her  children,  and  her  lips  seemed  ready  to  frame  some  ques- 
tion. Instead  of  speaking,  she  bent  her  head  over  her  rosary,  and 
strove  to  pray  with  more  devotion  than  usual. 

Finally  came  a  third  day,  and  still  Christina  was  absent.  The 
empress  could  no  longer  master  her  maternal  anxiety,  and  as  the 
Archduchess  Elizabeth  approached  to  kiss  her  hand,  she  spoke. 

"Where  is  Christina?     Why  is  she  not  with  you?" 

"My  sister  is  sick,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  archduchess. 

And  as  though  she  feared  to  displease  her  mother  by  further 
speech,  she  bent  her  head  and  withdrew. 

The  next  day  when  the  imperial  children  entered  their  mother's 
apartment,  her  prayer-book  was  lying  on  the  table,  while  she,  pale 
and  agitated,  was  pacing  the  room  with  hasty  steps.  She  received 
her  family  with  a  slight  motion  of  her  head,  and  looked  anxiously 
toward  tlie  door,  until  it  had  closed  after  the  entrance  of  little  Marie 
Antoinette.  Then  the  empress  sighed,  and  turned  away  her  head 
lest  her  children  should  see  the  tears  that  were  gushing  from  her 
eyes. 

But  when  mass  was  over,  and  little  Marie  Antoinette  approached 
her  mother,  she  took  the  child  up  in  her  arms,  and  tenderly  kissing 
her  cheek,  said  :  "How  is  Christina,  my  darling?" 

"Sister  Christina  is  very  sick,  imperial  mamma,"  rei)lied  the 
child,  "  and  she  cries  all  day  long.  But  she  loves  you  very  dearly, 
and  longs  to  see  you. " 

Tlie  empress  put  down  her  little  daughter  without  a  word,  and  as 
if  she  thought  to  mortify  her  worldliness,  she  signed  to  all  present 
to  withdraw,  and  falling  upon  her  knees,  prayed  long  and  fervently. 

An  hour  or  two  after  she  sent  for  her  confessor.  As  he  left  her 
room  and  passed  through  the  anteroom,  the  attendants  saw  that  his 
countenance  looked  joyous  in  the  extreme.  They  flocked  to  hear  if 
there  was  any  hope  of  convincing  the  empress  of  the  necessity  of 
her  return  to  the  world. 

"I  think  tliere  is  much,"  replied  the  father.  "God  be  thanked, 
her  maternal  love  has  overcome  the  dangerous  lethargy  into  whicli 
sorrow  had  plunged  our  beloved  sovereign.  For  a  time  she  was 
overcome  by  her  grief  as  a  widow  ;  but  she  begins  to  feel  tliat  her 
children  have  a  right  to  her  counsels  and  care.  Later  she  will  rec- 
ognize the  claims  of  her  people,  and  Austria  will  be  saved  from  the 
mad  schemes  of  that  unbelieving  dreamer,  her  son." 

"Do  you  really  believe  that  her  majesty  will  return  to  the 
throne?"  asked  the  countess. 

"  I  do.  She  besought  me  in  trembling  tones  to  tell  her  some- 
thing of  her  beloved  cliild — and  I  did  nothing  to  tranquillize  lier, 
for  slie  has  no  right  to  seclude  herself  from  her  people.  Maria 
Theresa  is  a  greater  sovereign  than  her  son  will  ever  be,  and  Austria 
cannot  afford  to  lose  her  now.  She  will  visit  her  daughter  to-day. 
Tell  the  archduchess  not  to  fear  her  brother's  opposition ;  for  her 
mother,  once  resolved  to  return  to  her  people,  will  see  that  her  own 
daughtei's  are  not  made  wretclied  by  a  tyrannical  brother.  The  jjrin- 
cess  will  marry  lii>r  lover." 

"I  hasten.     How  soon  may  we  expect  the  empress?" 

"She  will  .sm'ely  be  there  before  many  hours.  Solitude  is  not 
congenial  to  Maria  Theresa's  heart ;  her  active  mind  craves  occupa- 
tion, and  her  grief  requires  it.     Let  us  appeal   to  her  affections 


DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  ABBESS  AND  EMPRESS.      153 

through  the  illuess  of  her  child,  and  complete  reaction  will  ensue. 
It  once  we  can  persuade  her  to  quit  her  seclusion,  the  cloister-dream 
is  over.  Let  us  all  work  in  concert  to  restore  her  to  the  world.  It 
is  not  the  sovereign  of  a  great  nation  who  has  a  right  like  Mary  to 
sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  Go  at  once.  Count  Bathiany,  and  may  God 
bless  the  efforts  we  are  making  tt)  restore  our  empress  to  her  sense  of 
duty.  Church  and  state  are  alike  endangered  by  the  fatal  step  she 
has  taken. " 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

THE  DrPFERENCE  BETWEEN  AN  ABBESS  AND  AN  EMPRESS. 

It  was  the  hour  of  dinner.  Complete  silence  reigned  through- 
out tlie  imperial  palace,  except  in  the  halls  and  stairways  that  led 
from  the  imperial  diuing-hall  to  the  kitcliens  below.  Both  lay  far 
from  the  apartments  of  the  empress-abbess.  She,  therefore,  felt  that 
she  could  visit  her  child  without  fear  of  observation.  She  had  just 
concluded  her  own  solitary  dinner,  and  was  trying  to  collect  her 
thoughts  for  prayer.  In  vain.  They  icould  wander  to  the  sick-bed 
of  tier  daughter,  whom  fancy  pictured  dying  without  the  precious 
cares  that  a  mother's  hand  alone  is  gifted  to  bestow.  Maria  Theresa 
felt  that  her  heart  was  all  too  storm -tossed  for  prayer.  She  closed 
her  book  with  a  pang  of  self-reproach,  and  rose  from  her  arm-chair. 

"It  is  useless, "  said  slie,  at  last.  "I  must  obey  the  call  of  my 
rebellious  heart,  and  tread  once  more  the  paths  of  earthly  love  and 
eartlily  cares.  I  cannot  remain  here  and  think  that  my  Christina 
longs  for  her  mother's  presence,  and  that  I  may  not  wipe  her  tears 
away  with  my  kisses.  It  is  my  duty  to  tend  my  sick  child.  I  am 
not  in  the  right  path,  or  a  merciful  God  would  strengthen  me  to 
tread  it  courageously.  I  must  replace  their  father  to  my  children. 
Poor  orphans !  They  need  twice  tlie  love  I  gave  before,  and,  God 
forgive  me,  I  w^as  about  to  abandon  them  entirely.  It  is  no  injury 
to  the  memoiy  of  my  Francis,  for,  through  his  children,  I  shall  but 
love  him  the  more.  How^  I  long  once  more  to  press  them  to  my 
heart !  Yes,  I  must  go,  and  this  is  the  hour.  I  will  pass  by  the 
private  corridors,  and  surprise  my  Christina  in  her  solitude. " 

With  more  activity  than  she  had  been  able  to  summon  to  her  help 
since  the  emperor's  burial,  Maria  Theresa  hastened  to  her  dressing- 
room,  and  snatching  up  her  long,  black  cloak,  threw  it  around  her 
person.  As  she  was  drawing  the  hood  over  her  face,  she  caught  a 
glimpse  of  herself  in  a  mirror  close  by.  She  was  shocked  at  her  own 
image  ;  her  face  so  corpse-like,  her  cloak  so  like  a  hideous  pall. 

"I  look  like  a  ghost,"  thoughfthe  empress.  "And  indeed  I  am 
dead  to  all  happiness,  for  I  have  buried  my  all !  But  Christina  wiU 
be  shocked  at  my  looks.     I  must  not  frighten  the  poor  child. " 

And  actuated  partly  by  maternal  love,  partly  by  womanly  vanity, 
Maria  Theresa  slipped  back  the  ugly  hood  that  hid  her  white  fore- 
head, and  opened  the  black  crape  collar  which  encircled  her  neck, 
so  that  some  portion  of  her  throat  was  visible. 

"I  will  always  be  my  Franz's  poor  widow,"  said  the  empress, 
while  she  arranged  her  toilet,  "but  I  will  not  affright  my  children 
by  my  dress — now  I  look  more  like  their  mother.  Let  me  hasten  to 
my  child. " 


154  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

And  having  again  flung  back  the  hood  so  that  some  portions  of 
her  beautiful  hair  could  be  seen,  she  left  the  room.  She  opened  the 
door  softly  and  looked  into  the  next  apartment.  She  had  well  cal- 
culated her  time,  for  no  one  was  there  ;  her  ladies  of  honor  had  all 
gone  to  dinner. 

"  That  is  pleasant, "  said  she.  "  I  am  glad  not  to  meet  their  won- 
dering faces ;  glad  not  to  be  greeted  as  an  empress,  for  I  am  an 
empress  no  longer.  I  am  a  poor,  humble  widow,  fulfilling  the  only- 
earthly  duties  now  left  me  to  perform. " 

She  bent  her  head  and  went  softly  through  the  second  anteroom 
to  the  hall.  Again,  all  was  empty  and  silent ;  neither  page,  nor 
sentry,  nor  lackey  to  be  seen.  She  knew  not  why,  but  a  feeling  of 
desolation  came  over  her.  She  had  bidden  adieu  to  the  etiquette 
due  to  her  rank,  but  this,  she  thougJit,  was  carrying  the  point  too 
far. 

"If  I  had  had  the  misfortune  to  fall  suddenly  ill,"  said  she,  "I 
must  have  called  in  vain  for  succor.  No  one  is  by  to  hear  my  voice. 
But  at  least  there  must  be  sentries  in  the  other  hall. " 

No !  That  hall  too  was  empty.  No  lackeys  were  there,  no 
guards !  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Maria  Theresa  was  out  of 
hearing  of  any  human  being,  and  she  felt  a  pang  of  disappointment 
and  humiliation.  She  started  at  the  sound  of  her  own  footsteps, 
and  walked  faster,  that  she  might  come  within  siglit  of  some  one — 
any  one.  Suddenly,  to  her  joy,  she  heard  the  sound  of  voices,  and 
paused  to  listen. 

The  door  of  the  room  whence  the  voices  were  heard  was  slightly 
ajar,  and  the  empress  overheard  the  following  conversation.  The 
speakers  were  Father  Porhammer  and  tlie  Countess  Fuchs. 

"  Do  not  desj^air, "  said  the  father  ;  "  the  empress  is  forgiving  and 
magnanimous  ;  and  when  she  shall  have  admitted  you  again  to  her 
presence,  it  will  be  your  duty  to  aid  all  those  who  love  Austria,  by 
using  your  influence  to  recall  her  majesty  to  the  throne.  Woe  to 
Austria  if  she  persists  in  elevating  her  grief  above  her  duty  as  a 
sovereign  !  Woe  to  the  nation  if  her  son,  that  rebellious  child  of  the 
church,  reign  over  this  land  !     His  insane  love  of  novelty — " 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  father, "  replied  the  countess,  "say  nothing 
against  the  emperor !  His  mother's  will  has  placed  him  on  the 
throne,  and  we  must  submit." 

The  empress  heard  no  more.  With  noiseless  tread  she  hurried 
on,  until  she  turned  the  corner  of  a  side-hall,  and  then  she  relaxed 
her  pace.  She  pondered  over  what  she  had  just  heard,  and  it  did 
not  contribute  to  tranquillize  her  mind. 

"  What  can  he  be  doing?"  thought  she.  "What  are  those  mad 
schemes  of  which  my  friends  have  tried  to  apprise  me?  He  was 
ever  self-willed  and  stubborn  ;  ever  inclined  to  skepticism.  Alas  ! 
alas  !  I  foresee  sad  days  for  my  poor  Austria  !" 

At  that  moment  tlu!  einpr(>ss  had  gained  a  small  hunling  wliich 
led  to  a  staircase  wliich  she  had  to  descend.  She  was  about  to  pro- 
ceed on  her  way  when  she  perceived  a  man,  whose  back  was  turned 
toward  her,  seated  on  the  topmo.st  step.  He  was  so  iiuiet  tliat  she 
thought  he  was  asleep.  Rut  ;is  her  foot  toiKnied  liim  h(>  turned  care- 
lessly round,  and  perceiving  tlu*  empress,  rose  slowly,  and  bent  his 
head  as  tliough  to  any  lady  whom  lie  might  pass. 

Maria  Theresa  was  astoni.shed.  She  knew  not  wdiat  to  think  of 
the  irreverent  bearing  of  this  man,  who  was  no  other  than  Stockel, 


DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  ABBESS  AND  EMPRESS.      155 

one  of  the  servants  whose  duty  it  had  been,  for  thirty  years,  to  light 
the  fii'es  in  her  dressing-room. 

He  had  been  accustomed  every  morning  to  appear  before  his  im- 
perial lady,  in  winter,  to  see  that  her  fires  were  burning  ;  in  sum- 
mer, to  distribute  her  alms.  Stockel  was  from  Tyrol ;  he  had  been 
a  favorite  servant  of  the  empress  ;  and  being  an  upright  and  intelli- 
gent man,  his  word  was  known  to  have  some  weight  with  her.* 
Stockel  had  been  the  most  respectful  and  loyal  of  servants ;  the 
appearance  alone  of  the  empress  had  always  made  his  old  wrinkled 
face  light  up  with  joy.  How  did  it  happen  that  now,  when  he  had 
been  parted  from  her  for  four  weeks,  he  seemed  iuditferentV 

"He  is  offended  because  I  have  never  sent  for  him,"  thought  the 
kind-hearted  empress  ;  "  I  must  try  to  appease  him. " 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Stockel,"  said  she,  with  one  of  her  own 
bewitching  smiles  ;  "  it  is  long  since  you  have  visited  me  in  my 
room.  I  am  such  a  poor,  sorrowing  widow,  that  I  have  not  had 
heart  enough  to  think  of  the  poverty  of  others." 

Stockel  said  nothing.  He  turned  and  slightly  slirugged  his 
shoulders. 

"How?"  said  Maria  Theresa  good-humoredly,  "are  you  offended? 
Have  you  the  heart  to  be  angry  with  your  empress?" 

"Empress?"  returned  Stockel ;  "I  took  your  highness  for  a  pious 
nun.  The  whole  world  knows  that  Maria  Theresa  is  no  longer  an 
empress  ;  she  no  longer  reigns  in  Austria. " 

Maria  Theresa  felt  a  pang  as  she  lieard  these  words,  and  her 
cheeks  flushed — almost  with  anger.  But  overcoming  the  feeling  she 
smiled  sadly  and  said  :  "  I  see  that  you  are  really  angry,  poor  Stockel. 
You  do  not  like  to  see  my  palace  made  a  cloister.  You  think,  per- 
haps, that  I  have  done  wrong?" 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  judge  of  the  acts  of  the  rulers  of  earth, " 
replied  he  gloomily.  "  Perhaps  the  deeds  which  in  ordinaiy  people 
would  be  called  cowardly,  may  with  tliem  be  great  and  noble.  I 
know  nothing  about  it ;  but  I  know  what  my  beloved  empress  once 
said  to  me.  Slie  was  then  young  and  energetic,  and  she  had  not 
forgotten  the  oath  she  had  taken  when  the  archbishop  crowned  her 
at  St.  Stephen's — the  oath  wliich  bound  her  to  be  a  faithful  ruler 
over  her  people  until  God  released  lier. " 

"What  said  your  empress  then?" 

"I  will  tell  your  highness.  I  had  lost  my  young  wife,  the  one  I 
loved  best  on  earth,  and  I  came  to  beg  my  discharge  ;  for  my  long- 
ing was  to  go  back  to  my  native  mountains  and  live  a  hermit's  life 
in  Tyrol.  My  empress  would  not  release  me.  'How!'  said  she, 
'are  you  so  weak  that  you  must  skulk  away  from  the  world  because 
Almigthy  God  has  seen  fit  to  bereave  you  of  your  wife?  He  tries 
your  faith,  man,  and  you  must  be  firm,  whether  you  face  the  storm 
or  bask  in  the  sunshine.  Did  you  not  promise  to  serve  me  faith- 
fully, and  will  you  now  cast  away  your  useful  life  in  vain  sorrow? 
What  would  you  think  of  me  were  I  so  lighth*  to  break  my  oath  to  my 
people — I  who  must  lift  my  head  above  every  tempest  of  private  sor- 
row, to  fulfil  my  vow  until  death?'  Thus  spoke  my  empress ;  but 
that  was  many  years  ago,  and  she  was  then  sovereign  of  all  Austria." 

Maria  Theresa  looked  down,  and  the  tear-drops  that  had  been 
gathering  in  her  eyes  fell  upon  her  black  dress,  where  they  glistened 
like  diamonds. 

*Thiebault,  "M6moires  de  Vingt  Ans." 


156  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  It  is  true, "  whispered  she,  "  I  was  sovereign  of  all  Austria. " 

"And  what  prevents  you  from  being  sovereign  to-day?"  asked 
Stockel  eagerly.     "  Have  your  people  released  you?" 

The  empress  waved  her  hand  impatiently.  "  Enough, "  said  she, 
"  let  me  go  my  way  !" 

"  But  I  have  a  petition  to  make,  and  as  it  is  the  last  favor  I  shall 
ever  ask,  I  hope  j^our  majesty  will  not  deny  me. " 

"  Speak  your  wish, "  replied  Maria  Theresa  hastily. 

"I  beg  of  your  majesty  to  allow  me  to  quit  your  service,"  replied 
the  man  moodily.  "I  cannot  forget  the  words  of  Maria  Theresa. 
I  will  not  skulk  away  from  the  world  while  I  have  strength  to  work. 
1  am  tired  of  the  idle  life  I  lead.  It  is  summer,  and  there  is  no  fire 
to  kindle.  As  for  the  poor  unfortunates  whom  I  used  to  visit,  I 
can  do  them  no  good ;  their  benefactress  is  no  more.  I  must  do 
something,  or  life  will  be  a  burden  ;  and  if  your  majesty  will  con- 
descend to  give  me  leave,  I  shall  seek  another  place. " 

"Another  place,  Stockel!"  said  the  empress.  "What  other 
place?" 

"  A  place  in  the  household  of  the  reigning  empress, "  answered 
Stockel  with  a  low  inclination. 

Maria  Theresa  raised  her  head,  and  her  astonishment  was  visible 
in  her  large,  open  eyes. 

"The  reigning  empress?"  said  she  musing.     "  Who  can  that  be ?" 

"  The  wife  of  the  reigning  emperor,  your  majesty, "  said  Stockel 
grimly. 

The  empress  threw  back  her  proud  head,  and  drew  her  mantle 
convulsively  around  her. 

" It  is  well, "  said  she.  "Come  to  me  to-morrow,  and  you  shall 
hear  my  decision. " 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

THE  REIGNING  EMPRESS. 

The  empress  went  slowly  down  the  staircase.  This  staircase  led 
to  the  left  wing  of  the  palace,  where  the  apartments  of  the  imperial 
children  were  situated.  From  earliest  childhood  the  daughters  of 
Maria  Theresa  had  had  each  one  her  separate  suite.  Each  one  had 
her  governess,  her  ladies  of  honor,  and  her  train  of  servants,  and 
lived  as  if  in  a  miniature  court. 

On  great  festivals,  national  or  domestic,  the  younger  members  of 
the  imperial  family  were  invited  to  the  table  of  the  empress  ;  other- 
wise they  ate  in  private  with  their  retinue,  and  each  child  had  a 
separate  table. 

It  was  now  the  dinner-hour,  and  Maria  Tlieresa  had  selected  it, 
because  she  felt  sure  that  all  the  attendants  of  her  children  were  at 
table,  and  no  one  would  know  of  her  visit  to  Christina.  But  she 
was  mistaken.  As  she  passed  by  the  anteroom  leading  to  the  apart- 
ments of  her  children,  she  heard  the  voices  of  the  lords  and  ladies 
in  waiting,  and  tlirough  the  half-opened  door,  saw  them  chatting 
together  in  groups.  They  did  not  seem  to  observe  their  ex-sover- 
eign ;  they  went  on  conversing  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  But  as 
the  empress  was  passing  the  apartments  of  little  Marie  Antoinette, 


THE  REIGNING  EMPRESS.  157 

her  governess  appeared,  and,  with  a  cry  of  joy,  threw  herself  at 
Maria  Theresa's  feet,  and  covered  her  hand  with  kisses. 

The  empress  smiled.  A  thrill  of  pleasure  ran  through  her  frame, 
as  she  received  the  homage  to  which  from  her  birth  she  had  been 
accustomed. 

"Rise,  countess,"  said  she,  kindly,  "and  do  not  let  Marie  Antoi- 
nette know  that  I  am  near.  But,  tell  me,  how  comes  it  that  at  this 
hour  I  find  the  retinue  of  my  children  at  leisure,  while  they  are  at 
table?" 

"We  are  at  leisure,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  countess,  "because 
we  are  waiting  for  their  highnesses  to  rise  from  the  table. " 

"Is  it  then  a  festival,  that  my  children  should  be  dining  at  the 
imperial  table?" 

"Please  your  majesty,  the  reigning  emperor  has  abolished  the 
private  tables  of  their  highnesses  your  children.  He  finds  it  cheaper 
and  more  convenient  for  all  the  members  of  the  imperial  faimly  to 
be  served  at  once  and  at  one  table. " 

"Where,  then,  do  my  children  dine?"  asked  the  empress,  with 
asperity. 

'■'■  En  famille,  with  her  imperial  majesty,  tlie  reigning  empress." 

"  The  reigning  empress !"  echoed  Maria  Theresa,  with  a  frown. 
"But  how  conies  it  tliat  my  children  leave  their  rooms  without  a 
retinue?  Have  you,  then,  already  forgotten  that  I  never  permit  a 
breach  of  court-ceremonial  on  any  account?" 

"  Please  your  majesty,  the  emperor  dislikes  etiquette,  and  he  has 
strictly  forbidden  all  Spanish  customs  as  laughable  and  ridiculous. 
He  has  forbidden  all  attendance  upon  the  imperial  family,  except 
on  new  year's  day.  He  has  also  forbidden  us  to  kneel  before  his 
majesty,  because  it  is  an  outlandish  Spanish  custom,  and  a  homage 
due  to  God  alone.  All  the  French  and  Italian  servants  of  the  palace 
are  dismissed,  and  their  places  are  supplied  by  natives.  The  emperor 
wishes  to  have  every  thing  at  his  court  essentially  German.  For 
that  reason  he  has  ordered  the  mass  to  be  translated  and  celebrated 
in  the  German  language. " 

The  empress  heaved  a  sigh,  and  drew  her  mantilla  over  her  face, 
as  if  to  shut  out  the  future  which  was  unrolling  itself  to  her  view. 
She  felt  sick  at  heart ;  for  she  began  to  comprehend  that  her  suc- 
cessor was  not  only  creating  a  new  order  of  things,  but  was  speaking 
with  contempt  of  his  mother's  reign.  But  she  would  not  comtem- 
plate  the  sad  vision  ;  she  strove  to  turn  back  her  thoughts  to  the 
present. 

"  But  if  you  no  longer  have  your  private  table, "  continued  she, 
"why  not  accompany  the  princesses?" 

"  Because  the  emperor  deems  it  fitting  that  the  imperial  family 
should  dine  alone.  We,  ladies  in  waiting,  dine  in  a  small  room 
set  apart  for  us,  and  then  return  to  our  apartments  to  await  their 
highnesses." 

"But  the  lords  in  waiting,  do  they  not  dine  with  you?" 

"No,  your  majesty,  they  have  received  orders  at  one  o'clock  to 
go  to  their  own  houses,  or  to  their  former  lodgings,  to  dine.  The 
court  table  is  abolished,  and  the  emperor  finds  that  by  so  doing  he 
has  economized  a  very  considerable  sum." 

A  deep  flush  of  anger  passed  over  the  face  of  Maria  Theresa,  and 
her  lip  curled  contemptuously.  Economy  was  one  of  the  few  virtues 
which  the  profuse  and  munificent  empress  had  never  learned  to 


158  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

practise.     She  considered  it  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  sovereign  to 
count  the  cost  of  anything. " 

"  Enough, "  said  she,  in  a  constrained  voice,  "  I  will  go  to  Chris- 
tina. Let  no  one  know  of  my  visit.  I  desire  to  see  my  sick 
daughter  alone. " 

She  bent  her  lofty  head,  and  walked  rapidly  away.  With  a  beat- 
ing heart  she  opened  the  door  that  led  to  the  sleeping-room  of  the 
princess.  There,  on  a  couch,  lay  a  pale,  weeping  llgure,  the  em- 
press's darling,  her  beautiful  Christina. 

She  stopped  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold,  and  looked  lovingly 
at  the  dear  child,  whom,  for  four  days,  she  had  not  seen  ;  then  a 
thrill  of  unutterable  joy  pervaded  her  wliole  being. 

At  this  moment  Christina  raised  her  languid  eyes ;  her  glance 
met  that  of  her  mother  ;  and  with  a  piercing  cry,  she  sprang  from 
the  couch.  But,  overcome  by  weakness  and  emotion,  she  faltered, 
grew  paler,  and  sank  to  the  floor. 

The  empress  darted  forward  and  caught  her  fainting  daughter 
in  her  arms.  She  carried  her  to  the  divan,  laid  her  softly  down, 
and,  with  quivering  lip,  surveyed  the  pale  face  and  closed  eyes  of 
the  princess. 

She  recovered  slowly,  and  at  length,  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  unclosed 
her  eyes.  Mother  and  child  contemplated  each  other  with  loving 
glances,  and  as  the  archduchess  raised  her  arms  and  clasped  them 
around  her  mother's  neck,  she  whispered  feebly  :  "Oh,  now,  all  is 
well !  I  am  no  longer  desolate  ;  my  dear,  dear  mother  has  returned 
to  me.  She  has  not  forsaken  us  ;  she  will  shield  us  from  oppression 
and  misfortune. " 

Like  a  frightened  dove  Christina  clung  to  the  empress,  and  bury- 
ing her  face  in  her  mother's  breast,  she  wept  tears  of  relief  and  joy. 

The  empress  drew  her  close  to  her  heart.  "  Yes,  darling, "  said 
she,  with  fervor,  "  I  am  here  to  shield  you,  and  I  will  never  forsake 
you  again.  No  one  on  earth  shall  oppress  you  now.  Tell  me,  dear 
child,  what  goes  wrong  with  you?" 

"Oh,  mother,"  whispered  Christina,  "there  is  one  in  Austria, 
more  powerful  than  yourself,  who  will  force  me  to  his  will.  You 
cannot  shield  me  from  the  emperor,  for  you  have  given  him  the 
power  to  rule  over  us  ;  and,  oh,  how  cruelly  he  uses  his  right !" 

"  What  I  have  given,  I  can  recall, "  cried  the  empress.  "  Mine 
are  the  power  and  the  crown,  and  I  have  not  yet  relinquished  them. 
Now  speak,  Christina ;  what  grieves  you,  and  why  are  your  eyes  so 
red  with  weeping?" 

"Because  I  am  the  most  unhappy  of  mortals,"  cried  Christina, 
passionately.  "  Because  I  am  denied  the  right  which  every  peasant- 
girl  exercises ;  the  right  of  refusing  a  man  whom  I  do  not  love. 
Oh,  mother,  if  you  can,  save  me  from  tlie  detested  Duke  of  Chablais, 
whom  my  cruel  brother  forces  upon  me  as  a  husband." 

"Istliatyour  sorrow,  my  child?"  exclaimed  the  empress.  "Jo- 
8e])h  is  like  his  father  ;  he  loves  wealth.  The  emperor  had  proposed 
this  half-brother  of  the  King  of  Sardinia  for  you,  Christina,  but  I 
refused  my  consent ;  and,  now  without  my  knowledge,  Joseph 
would  force  him  upon  you,  because  of  his  great  riches.  But  pa- 
tience, patience,  my  daughter.  I  will  show  you  that  I  am  not  so 
powerless  as  you  think:  I  will  show  you  that  no  one  in  Austria 
shall  give  away  my  Christina,  without  her  mother's  approbation." 
While  the  empress  spoke,  her  cheeks  flushed,  and  her  eyes  glowed 


THE  REIGNING  EMPRESS.  159 

with  a  proud  consciousness  of  might  not  yet  renounced  forever.  The 
sorrowing  widow  was  being  once  more  transformed  into  the  stately 
sovereign,  and  the  eyes,  which  had  been  so  dimmed  by  tears,  were 
lit  up  by  the  fire  of  new  resolves. 

"Oh,  mother,  my  own  imperial  mother,"  said  Christina,  "do 
not  only  free  me  from  the  man  whom  I  detest,  but  bless  me  with  the 
hand  of  the  man  I  love.  You  well  know  how  long  I  have  loved 
Albert  of  Saxony,  you  know  how  dear  I  am  to  him.  I  have  sworn 
never  to  be  the  wife  of  another,  and  I  will  keep  my  oath,  or  die! 
Oh,  mother,  do  not  make  me  the  sport  of  policy  and  ambition  !  Let 
me  be  happy  with  him  whom  I  love.  What  are  crowns  and  sceptres 
and  splendor,  when  the  heart  is  without  love  and  hope?  I  am  will- 
ing to  lead  a  simple  life  with  Albert — let  me  be  happy  in  my  own 
wa3^  Oh,  mother !  I  love  him  so  far  above  all  earthly  creatiires, 
that  I  would  rather  be  buried  with  him  in  the  grave  than  be  an  em- 
press without  him." 

And  she  fell  upon  her  knees  and  wept  anew.  The  empress  liad 
listened  musingly  to  her  daughter's  appeal.  While  Cluistiuawas 
speaking,  the  glamour  of  her  own  past  love  was  upon  her  heart. 
She  was  a  girl  again  ;  and  once  more  her  life  seemed  bound  uj)  in 
the  love  she  bore  to  young  Francis  of  Lorraine.  Thus  had  she 
spoken,  so  had  she  entreated  her  father,  the  proud  emperor,  until  he 
had  relented,  and  she  had  become  the  wife  of  Cliristina's  own  father  ! 
Not  only  maternal  love,  but  womanly  sympathy  pleaded  for  her  un- 
happy child. 

She  bent  over  her,  and  with  her  white  hand  fondly  stroked  the 
rich  masses  of  Christina's  golden-brown  liair. 

"  Do  not  weep,  my  daughter, "  said  she  tenderly.  "  True,  you  have 
spoken  words  most  unseemly  for  one  of  your  birth  ;  for  it  is  the  duty 
of  a  princess  to  buy  her  splendor  and  her  rank  with  many  a  stifled 
longing  and  many  a  disappointment  of  the  affections.  Kind  fate 
bestowed  upon  me  not  only  grandeur,  but  the  husband  of  my  love, 
and  daily  do  I  thank  the  good  God  who  gave  me  to  my  best  beloved 
Franz.  I  do  not  know  why  you,  too,  may  not  be  made  a  happy 
exception  to  the  lot  of  princesses.  I  have  still  four  beautiful 
daughters  for  whom  state  policy  may  seek  alliances.  I  will  permit 
one  of  my  children  to  be  hap])y  as  I  have  been.  God  grant  that  the 
rest  may  find  happiness  go  hand  in  hand  with  duty. " 

The  princess,  enraptured,  would  have  thrown  her  arms  around 
her  mother's  neck  ;  but  suddenly  her  face,  which  had  grown  rosy 
with  joy,  became  pale  again,  and  her  countenance  wore  an  expres- 
sion of  deep  disapj)ointment. 

"Oh,  mother,"  cried  she,  "we  build  castles,  while  we  forget  that 
you  are  no  longer  the  sovereign  of  Austria.  And  while  you  weej) 
and  pray  in  your  dark  cell,  the  emperor,  with  undutif  ul  hand,  over- 
turns the  edifice  of  Austria's  greatness — that  edifice  which  you, 
dearest  mother,  had  reared  with  your  own  hands.  He  is  like  Eros- 
tratus  ;  his  only  fame  will  be  to  have  destroyed  a  temple  which  he 
had  not  the  cunning  to  build." 

"  We  will  wrest  the  fagots  from  his  sacrilegious  hands, "  cried  thd 
empress. 

The  archduchess  seemed  not  to  have  heard  her  mother's  words 
She  threw  her  arms  around  tlie  empress,  and,  clinging  convulsively 
to  her,  exclaimed,  "Oh,  do  not  forsake  me,  nij' mother  and  my  em- 
press.    That  horrible  woman,  who  was  dragged  from  her  obscurity 


160  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

to  curse  my  brother's  life ;  that  Jresome,  hideous  Josepha — do  not 
suffer  her  to  wear  your  title  and  your  crown.  O  God  !  O  God  !  Must 
I  live  to  see  Maria  Theresa  humbled,  while  Josepha  of  Bavaria  is 
the  reigning  empress  of  Austria?" 

The  empress  started.  This  was  the  third  time  she  liad  heard 
these  words,  and  each  time  it  seemed  as  if  a  dagger  had  pierced  her 
proud  heart. 

"Josepha  of  Bavaria  the  reigning  empress  of  Austria  !"  said  she 
scornfully.  "  We  shall  see  how  long  she  is  to  bear  my  title  and  wear 
my  crown  !  But  I  am  weary,  my  daughter.  I  must  go  to  my  soli- 
tude, but  fear  nothing.  Whether  I  be  empress  or  abbess,  no  man 
on  earth  shall  opi^ress  my  children.  The  doors  of  the  cloister  have 
not  yet  closed  upon  me ;  I  am  still,  if  I  choose  to  be,  the  reigning 
empress  of  Austria. " 

She  pressed  a  kiss  upon  Christina's  forehead,  and  left  the 
room. 

On  her  return  she  encountered  no  one,  and  she  was  just  about  to 
open  the  door  of  her  own  anteroom,  when  she  caught  the  sound  of 
voices  from  within. 

"But  I  tell  you,  gentlemen, "  cried  an  angry  voice,  "that  her 
majesty,  the  ex-empress,  receives  no  one,  and  has  no  longer  any 
revenues.  She  has  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  administration  of 
affairs  in  Austria. " 

"  But  I  must  see  the  empress, "  replied  a  second  and  a  deprecating 
voice.  "  It  is  my  right,  for  she  is  our  sovereign,  and  she  cannot  so 
forsake  us.  Let  me  see  the  empress.  My  life  depends  upon  her 
goodness. " 

"And  I,"  cried  a  third  voice,  "I  too  must  see  her.  Not  for  my- 
self do  I  seek  this  audience,  but  for  her  subjects.  Oh,  for  the  love 
of  Austria,  let  me  speak  with  my  gracious  sovereign  !" 

"But  I  tell  you  that  I  dare  not,"  cried«the  ruffled  page.  "It 
would  ruin  me  not  only  with  her  majesty,  but  with  the  reigning 
emperor.  The  widowed  empress  has  no  more  voice  in  state  affairs, 
and  the  emperor  never  will  suffer  her  to  have  any,  for  he  has  all  the 
power  to  himself,  and  he  never  means  to  yield  an  inch  of  it. " 

"  Woe  then  to  Austria  !"  cried  the  third  speaker. 

"Why  do  you  cry,  'Woe  to  Austria?'"  asked  a  voice  outside; 
and  the  tall,  majestic  form  of  the  empress  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Our  empress  !"  cried  the  two  petitioners,  while  both  fell  at  her 
feet  and  looked  up  into  her  face  with  unmistakable  joy. 

The  empress  greeted  them  kindly,  but  she  added  :  "  Rise,  gentle- 
men. I  hear  that  my  son,  the  emperor,  has  forbidden  his  subjects 
to  kneel  to  him  ;  they  shall  not,  therefore,  kneel  to  me,  for  he  is 
right.  To  God  alone  belongs  such  homage.  Rise,  therefore,  Fathei 
Aloysius  ;  the  brothers  of  the  holy  order  of  Jesus  must  never  kneel 
to  fellow- mortal.  And  you.  Counsellor  Biindener,  rise  also,  and 
stand  erect.  Your  limbs  liave  grown  stiff  in  my  service ;  in  your 
old  age  you  have  the  right  to  spare  them.  You,"  added  she,  turn- 
ing to  the  page,  "return  to  your  post,  and  attend  more  faithfully  to 
your  duty  tlian  you  have  done  to-day.  When  I  left  this  room,  no 
one  guarded  the  entrance  to  it. " 

"Your  majesty,"  stammered  the  confused  page,  "it  was  the  din- 
ner-hour, and  I  had  never  dreamed  of  your  leaving  your  a)>artments. 
TTis  ma  jcsty  the  emperor  has  reduced  the  pages  and  sentries  to  half 
their  number,  and  there  are  no  longer  enough  of  us  to  relieve  one 


THE  REIGNING  EMPRESS.  161 

another  as  we  were  accustomed  to  do  under  the  reign  of  your 
majesty. " 

" It  is  well, "  said  the  empress  haughtily.  "I  will  restore  order 
to  my  household  before  another  day  has  passed.  And  now,  gentle- 
men, what  brings  you  hither?    Speak,  Father  Aloysius. " 

"My  conscience,  your  majesty,"  replied  Father  Aloysius,  fer- 
vently. "  I  cannot  stand  by  and  see  the  hailstorm  of  corruption 
that  devastates  our  unliappy  country.  I  cannot  see  Austria  flooded 
with  the  works  of  French  philosophers  and  German  infidels.  What 
is  to  become  of  religion  and  decency  if  Voltaire  and  Rousseau  are  to 
be  the  teachers  of  Austrian  youth  !" 

"It  rests  with  yourself,  my  friend,"  replied  the  empress,  "to 
protect  the  youth  of  Austria  from  such  contaminating  influences. 
Why  do  those  whom  I  appointed  censors  of  the  press  permit  the 
introduction  of  these  godless  works  in  my  realms?" 

"Your  majesty's  realms!"  replied  the  father  sadly.  "Alas,  they 
are  no  longer  yours.  Your  son  is  emperor  and  master  of  Austria, 
and  he  has  commanded  the  printing  and  distribution  of  every  infi- 
del work  of  modern  times.  The  censors  of  the  press  have  been 
silenced,  and  ordered  to  discontinue  their  revision  of  books. " 

"Has  my  son  presumed  so  far?"  cried  the  empress,  angrily. 
"Has  he  dared  to  overthrow  the  barriers  which  for  the  good  of  my 
subjects  I  had  raised  to  protect  them  from  the  corrupt  influences  of 
French  infidelity  ?  Has  he  ordered  the  dissemination  of  obscene  and 
ungodly  books?  O  my  God !  How  culpable  have  I  been  to  the  trust 
which  thou  hast  placed  in  my  hands  !  I  feel  my  guilt ;  I  have  sinned 
in  the  excess  of  my  grief.  But  I  will  conquer  my  weak  heart.  Go 
in  peace,  father.  I  will  ponder  youi*  words,  and  to-morrow  you 
shall  hear  from  me. " 

The  father  bowed  and  retired,  while  the  empress  turned  toward 
Counsellor  Bimdener  and  inquired  the  cause  of  his  distress. 

"  Oh,  your  majesty, "  cried  the  old  man  in  accents  of  despair, 
"unless  you  help  me  I  am  ruined.  If  you  come  not  again  to  my 
assistance  my  children  will  starve,  for  I  am  old  and — " 

"What!"  interrupted  the  empress,  "your  children  starve  with 
the  pension  I  gave  you  from  my  own  private  purse  ?" 

"  You  did,  indeed,  give  me  a  generous  pension, "  replied  Biindener, 
"  and  may  God  bless  your  majesty,  for  a  more  bountiful  sovereign 
never  bore  the  weight  of  a  crown.  But  desolation  and  despair  sit 
in  the  places  where  once  your  majesty's  name  was  mingled  each 
day  with  the  prayers  of  those  whom  you  had  succored.  The  em- 
peror has  withdrawn  every  pension  bestowed  by  you.  He  has 
received  a  statement  of  every  annuity  paid  by  your  majesty's  orders, 
and  has  declared  his  intention  of  cleaning  out  the  Augean  stables  of 
this  wasteful  beneficence. "  * 

The  empress  could  not  suppress  a  cry  of  indignation.  Her  face 
grew  scarlet,  and  her  lips  parted.  But  she  conquered  the  angry  im- 
pulse that  would  have  led  her  to  disparage  her  son  in  the  presence 
of  his  subject,  and  her  mouth  closed  firmly.  With  agitated  mien 
she  paced  her  apartment,  her  eyes  flashng,  her  breast  heaving,  her 
whole  frame  convulsed  with  a  sense  of  insulted  maternity.  Then 
she  came  toward  the  counsellor,  and  lifting  her  proud  head  as  though 
Olympus  had  owned  her  sway,  she  spoke  : 

"  Go  home,  my  friend, "  said  she  imperiously,  "  and  believe  my 
*Hubner,  "Life  of  Joseph  II.,"  vol.  i.,  p.  28. 


162  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

royal  word  when  I  assure  you  that  neither  you  nor  any  other  '  my 
pensioners  shall  be  robbed  of  your  annuities.  Princely  faith  shall  be 
sacred  above  all  consideration  of  thrift,  and  we  shall  see  who  dares 
impeach  mine  !" 

So  saying,  Maria  Theresa  passed  into  her  dressing-room,  where 
her  ladies  of  honor  were  assembled.  They  all  bent  the  knee  as  she 
entered,  and  awaited  her  commands  in  reverential  silence.  At 
tliat  moment  the  flourish  of  trumpets  and  the  call  of  the  guards  to 
arms  were  heard.  The  empress  looked  astounded,  and  directeJ  an 
inquiring  glance  toward  the  window.  She  knew  full  well  the 
meaning  of  that  trumpet  signal  and  that  call  to  arms ;  they  were 
heard  on  the  departure  or  tlie  return  of  one  person  only  in  Austria, 
and  that  person  was  herself,  the  empress. 

For  the  third  time  the  trumpet  sounded.  "What  means  this?" 
asked  she,  frowning. 

"  Please  yoiu-  majesty, "  answered  a  lady  of  the  bedchamber,  "  it 
signifies  that  her  imperial  majesty,  the  reigning  empress,  has  re- 
turned from  her  walk  in  the  palace  gardens. " 

Maria  Theresa  answered  not  a  word.  She  walked  quickly  past 
her  attendants  and  laid  her  hand  upon  the  lock  of  the  door  which 
led  into  her  private  study.  Her  head  was  thrown  back,  her  eyes 
were  full  of  flashing  resolve,  and  the  tone  of  her  voice  was  clear, 
full,  and  majestic.  It  betokened  that  Maria  Theresa  was  "  herself 
again. " 

"  Let  Prince  Kaunitz  be  summoned, "  said  she.  "  Send  hither  the 
Countess  Fuchs  and  Father  Porhammer.  Tell  the  two  latter  to  come 
to  my  study  when  the  prince  leaves  it. " 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

THE     CO-REGENT    DEPOSED. 

Scarcely  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  elapsed  since  the  empress's 
orders  had  been  issued,  when  a  page  announced  Prince  Kaunitz. 

Maria  Theresa  went  forward  to  receive  him.  Her  whole  being 
seemed  filled  with  a  feverish  excitement  which  contrasted  singularly 
with  the  unaltered  demeanor  of  her  prime  minister,  who,  cold  and 
tranquil  as  ever,  advanced  to  meet  his  sovereign,  and  bowed  with 
his  usual  phlegm. 

"Well,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  after  a  pause,  "every  thing  has  not 
changed  in  the  four  weeks  of  my  retirement  from  covirt.  You  at 
least  are  the  same  in  appearance.  Let  me  hope  that  you  are  the 
same  in  spirit  and  in  mind." 

"Please  your  majesty, "  replied  Kaivnitz,  "four  weeks  have  not 
yet  gone  by  since  I  had  the  honor  of  an  interview  with  you." 

"  Wliat  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  the  empress,  impatiently. 
"Do  you  wish  to  remind  me  that  I  had  resolved  to  wait  four  weeks 
before  I  decided  upon  a  permanent  course  of  action?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty,"  said  Kaunitz.  "I  am  somewhat  vain, 
as  everybody  knows,  and  I  have  already  seen  my  triumpli  in  your 
majesty's  face.  I  read  there  that  my  noble  empress  has  proved 
me  a  true  prophet.  Slie  lias  not  yet  been  away  from  her  subjects 
four  weeks,  and  already  her  head  has  silenced  the  weakness  of  her 


THE  CO-REGENT  DEPOSED.  163 

heart.  Three  weeks  have  sufficed  to  bring  Maria  Theresa  once  more 
to  her  sense  of  duty. " 

"Ah  !"  said  the  empress,  "are  you  then  so  sure  that  my  novitiate 
wil  not  end  in  a  cloister?" 

"  I  am  convinced  of  it.  For  never  sliall  I  forget  tlie  day  on  which 
your  majesty  swore  to  be  a  faitliful  ruler  over  Austria  as  long  as  you 
lived.  I  am  convinced  of  it,  too,  because  I  know  that,  although 
my  empress  has  the  heart  of  a  woman,  she  has  the  head  of  a  man, 
and  in  all  well-ordered  unions  the  head  rules  the  household." 

The  empress  smiled  faintlj',  but  said  nothing.  Her  arms  were 
crossed  over  her  breast,  her  head  was  bent  in  thought,  and  she  went 
slowly  back  and  forth  from  one  end  of  her  study  to  the  other. 
Kaunitz  followed  her  with  his  large,  tranquil  eyes,  which  seemed 
to  penetrate  to  the  remotest  regions  of  her  throbbing  heart. 

Suddenly  she  stood  before  him,  and  for  a  moment  gazed  earnestly 
in  his  face. 

"  Kaunitz, "  said  she,  "  I  have  not  only  considered  you  for  many 
years  as  a  wise  and  great  statesman,  but,  wliat  is  better  yet,  I  have 
esteemed  you  as  a  man  of  honor.  I  exact  of  you  that  you  act  hon- 
orably and  openly  toward  me  in  this  hour.     Do  you  promise?" 

"  An  honorable  man,  your  majesty,  need  not  promise  to  do  that 
which  honor  requires  of  him. " 

"True,  true.  But  you  might  pay  unconscious  deference  to  my 
rank  or  to  my  sex.  Courtesy  might  mislead  you.  This  is  precisely 
what  I  warn  you  to  avoid.  I  wish  you  to  speak  candidly  without 
thought  or  consideration  for  empress  or  woman.  Remember  how 
you  pledged  your  life  to  Austria's  good — and,  forgetting  all  else, 
answer  me  truthfully  and  withovit  fear.     Will  you,  Kaunitz?" 

"  I  will,  your  majesty.  Ask,  and  you  shall  be  truthfully  answered 
— so  help  me  God.  " 

"Then,  tell  me,  which  of  us  is  better  calculated  to  reign  in 
Austria — Joseph  or  myself?  Which  of  us  will  best  promote  the  wel- 
fare of  the  Austrian  people?  Do  not  answer  me  at  once.  Take 
time  to  reflect  upon  the  subject,  for  a  weighty  question  lies  in  the 
balance  of  this  hour.  I  cannot  trust  myself  in  this  decision,  for  I 
have  wept  so  many  tears  tliat  I  have  not  the  strength  to  see  wherein 
my  duty  lies.  I  cannot  even  trust  mj'  own  misgivings,  for  pride  or 
vanity  may  have  blinded  my  eyes  to  truth.  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
view  things  in  their  proper  light.  It  is  useless,  therefore,  for  me  to 
speak.  I  desire  to  hear  no  one  but  yourself.  I  swear  to  you,  by 
the  memory  of  Charles  V. ,  that,  whatever  you  say  shall  be  sacred  ; 
for  I  have  exacted  of  you  candor — and  say  what  you  will,  your  can- 
dor shall  not  otfend.     Who,  then,  is  best  fltted  foreign,  Joseph  or  I?" 

"Your  majesty,  I  have  had  full  time  to  reflect  upon  this  weighty 
question  ;  for  since  first  you  announced  your  intention  to  resign  the 
throne,  I  have  thought  of  nothing  else.  In  politics  we  know  neither 
predilection  nor  prejudice.  Necessity  and  interest  decide  all  things. 
Your  majesty  has  so  often  called  me  a  good  politician,  that  I  have 
ended  by  believing  myself  to  be  one.  It  follows  thence  that,  in  de- 
liberating upon  this  great  question,  I  have  laid  aside  all  personal 
inclination  and  sympathy,  and  have  had  in  view  the  welfare  of 
Austria  alone.  But  for  this,  the  matter  would  have  required  no 
thought,  for  the  Emperor  Joseph  and  I  have  nothing  in  common. 
He  fears  me,  and  I  do  not  love  him.*  AVe  never  could  be  made  to 
♦Kaunitz's  own  words.    Wrasall,  vol.  ji.,  p.  490. 


164  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

understand  one  another  ;  for  the  language  of  the  heart  is  not  to  be 
forced  by  edicts,  as  is  the  language  of  the  court.  The  emperor  has 
forbidden  all  tongues  in  Germany,  save  one.  If  he  persist  in  this, 
he  will  alienate  his  subjects,  and  Avtstria  will  soon  lose  her  great- 
ness. When  a  man  intends  to  force  his  people  to  forget  their 
mother-tongue,  he  must  do  it  by  degrees ;  and  if  he  succeeds,  he 
will  be  a  skilful  teacher.  The  best  reforms  are  to  be  introduced 
through  the  byways  of  life.  If  we  trust  them  on  the  highway,  they 
shock  and  terrify  the  people.  The  young  emperor,  regardless  of 
these  considerations,  has  violently  suppressed  whatever  seemed  in- 
judicious to  him  in  your  majesty's  administration.  Perhaps  you 
had  done  too  much ;  your  son,  certainly,  does  too  little.  I  hear 
everywhere  of  interdicts,  but  nowhere  of  concessions.  Old  things 
destroyed,  but  nothing  created  to  replace  them.  What  will  be  the 
result  of  this?  Austria  must  soon  be  reduced  to  a  mass  of  ruins,  and 
your  son  will  go  down  to  posterity  with  a  fame  like  that  of  Attila. 
Save  Austria !  save  him  from  the  curse  that  threatens  both.  We 
have  not  yet  completed  the  noble  edifice  of  which  eleven  years  ago 
we  laid  the  foundations.  We  must  finish  the  structure,  and  so  solid 
must  be  its  walls  that  our  thoughtless  young  reformer  shall  not  have 
strength  to  batter  them  down.  Your  majesty  must  remain  the 
reigning  Empress  of  Austria.  You  cannot  resign  your  empire  to 
your  son.     Duty  and  the  welfare  of  your  subjects  forbid  it. " 

The  empress  inclined  her  head  approvingly.  "  I  believe  that  you 
are  right,  Kaunitz, "  replied  she.  "  It  is  not  in  the  pride,  but  in  the 
deep  humility  of  my  heart,  that  I  reassume  the  crown  which  God 
himself  placed  upon  my  head.  I  have  no  right  to  say  that  the  load 
is  too  heavy  since  He  wills  me  to  bear  it.  Indeed  I  feel  that  He  will 
give  me  strength  to  accomplish  His  will  in  me,  and  I  am  now  ready 
to  say,  'Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord  ;  be  it  done  to  me  accord- 
ing to  His  word. '  I  will  never  again  lift  my  treasonable  hand 
against  that  crown  which  I  pray  Heaven  I  may  wear  for  the  good  of 
my  people.  But  you,  prince,  you  must  be  at  my  side  ;  together  we 
have  planned  for  Austria,  together  we  must  complete  the  noble 
structure  of  her  greatness. " 

"I  remain,  your  majesty,  and  will  never  cease  to  labor  until  tlie 
banner  of  the  Hapsburg  floats  proudly  from  its  battlements.  But 
we  must  decorate  as  well  as  strengthen.  We  have  beautiful  young 
princesses  whose  alliances  will  bring  wealth  and  splendor  to  our 
imperial  edifice.  Within,  we  shall  have  solid  walls  that  will  insure 
the  durability  of  our  structure ;  without,  we  shall  have  brilliant 
alliances  that  will  perfect  its  beauty. " 

"You  have  a  marriage  to  propose?"  said  the  empress,  smiling. 

"I  liave,  your  majesty,  a  marriage  with  the  young  King  of 
Naples. " 

"For  which  of  my  daughters?"  asked  ]\Iaria  Theresa  uneasily. 

"  For  the  one  your  majesty  sliall  select. " 

"Then  it  sliall  be  Johanna.  She  is  very  beautiful,  and  has  a 
proud  ;ind  ambitious  heart  which  craves  less  for  love  than  for  rank 
and  splendor.  But  if  I  give  one  of  my  daughters  to  diplomacy,  you 
must  leave  me  another  for  domestic  li;ii)piuess.  Christina  has  un- 
dertaken to  think  tliat  slie  nuist  marry  for  love,  and  I  think  we 
ouglit  to  make  her  ha])py  in  her  own  modest  way.  We  owe  amends 
to  All)ert  of  Saxony  for  having  declined  an  alliance  with  liis  sister ; 
we  also  owe  him  something  for  his  fidelity  and  good  faith  as  an 


THE  CO -REGENT  DEPOSED.  165 

ally.  Let  the  young  lovers  be  united,  then ;  we  have  gold  and 
daughters  enough  to  tolerate  one  marriage  of  inclination  in  our  im- 
perial house. " 

"  But  your  majesty  will  give  up  the  youngest,  Marie  Antoinette, 
to  diplomacy,  will  you  not?" 

"You  destine  her  to  the  throne  of  France,  prince — is  it  not 
so?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty.  The  son  of  the  dauphin  is  a  noble  youth, 
and  although  his  father  was  unfriendly  to  Austria,  Choiseuil  and 
La  Pompadour  are  for  us.  Marie  Antoinette,  therefore,  is  to  be 
Queen  of  France.  This,  however,  must  be  a  profound  secret  be- 
tween oiu-selves.  While  her  little  highness  is  being  fashioned  for 
her  future  dignity,  we  must  many  her  elder  sisters,  if  not  so  brill- 
iantly, at  least  as  advantageously  as  we  can.  First,  then,  upon  the 
list  is  the  Archduchess  Christina.  We  must  find  some  suitable  rank 
for  herself  and  her  husband,  and  your  majesty  will  of  course  be- 
stow a  dowry  worthy  of  your  daughter's  birth  and  station. " 

"  I  will  present  them  the  duchy  of  Teschen  as  a  wedding-gift,  and 
it  must  be  your  care,  prince,  to  find  an  appointment  for  the  Elector 
of  Saxony  that  will  be  worthy  of  my  son-in-law." 

"Let  us  name  him  Captain-General  and  Stadtholder  of  Hungary. 
That  will  be  an  effectual  means  of  converting  the  Hungarians  into 
Austrians,  and  the  appointment  is  in  every  way  suitable  to  the 
elector's  rank." 

The  empress  nodded,  smiling  acquiescence.  "Your  head,"  said 
she,  "  is  always  in  the  right  place ;  and  sometimes  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that  your  heart  is  better  than  the  world  believes  it  to  be, 
else  how  could  you  so  readily  divine  the  hearts  of  others?  How 
quickly  have  you  devised  the  best  of  schemes  to  promote  my  daugh- 
ter's happiness,  without  compromising  her  imperial  station! 
Christina  shall  be  Stadthalterin  of  Hungary  ;  and  in  her  name  and 
my  own  I  thank  you  for  the  suggestion.  One  thing,  however,  lies 
heavy  on  my  heart.  It  is  the  thought  of  the  blow  I  am  about  to 
inflict  upon  my  poor  Joseph.  How  will  he  bear  to  be  deprived  of 
his  sovereignty?" 

"I  think  your  majesty  named  him  co-regent  only,"  said  Kau- 
nitz. 

"I  did,"  replied  the  empress,  "and  in  very  truth  I  withdraw 
nothing  but  a  temporary  privilege.  As  empress  I  know  my  right  to 
resume  the  reins  of  power ;  but  it  grieves  my  maternal  heart  to 
exercise  it.  I  think  I  see  him  now,  poor  boy,  with  his  great  blue 
eyes  fixed  in  despair  upon  me.  I  never  shall  have  the  courage  to 
announce  my  return  to  him. " 

"  There  wnll  be  no  need  to  restrict  him  in  his  co-regency.  He 
can  be  removed  to  th  war  department,  where  he  may  reign  un- 
fettered. " 

"  He  shall  have  unlimited  power  there, "  exclaimed  the  empress, 
joyfully.  "  It  is  the  proper  province  of  a  man,  and  Joseph  will  fill 
the  station  far  better  than  I  have  ever  done.  I  promise  not  to  inter- 
fere with  him  in  the  field.  For  other  state  affairs,  I  shall  attend  to 
them  myself,  and  I  do  not  think  that  I  will  ever  delegate  my  power 
a  second  time.  You  had  best  inform  Joseph  of  my  resumption  of 
the  throne,  and  let  the  Frau  Josepha  also  be  advised  that  she  is  no 
longer  reigning  empress  of  Austria.  For  me,  I  must  always  remain 
at  heart  a  sorrowing  widow.     My  sorrows  I  can  never  overcome ; 


IGO  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

my  widow's  weeds  I  shall  never  lay  aside.*  But  above  the  weeds 
I  will  wear  the  mantle  of  royalty  ;  and  since  you  have  so  determined 
for  me,  Austria  shall  once  more  own  the  sway  of  Maria  Theresa. " 


CHAPTER    XL. 

MOTHER     AND     SON. 

The  dream  was  over — the  blessed  dream  of  philanthropy  and 
reform  !  The  reins  of  power  had  been  snatched  fi'om  his  hands,  and 
Joseph  was  once  more  consigned  to  a  life  of  insignificant  inactivity. 
Like  a  wounded  bird,  whose  broken  wing  no  longer  bears  him  aloft, 
his  heart  fluttered  and  fell — its  high  hopes  dashed  to  earth.  The  old 
influences  which  he  hated,  were  at  work  again,  and  he  had  no 
recourse  but  absolute  silence.  His  deep  humiliation,  he  was  con- 
strained to  hide  under  a  mask  of  serenity  ;  but  he  knew  that  his 
spirit  was  crushed,  and  night  fell  over  his  stricken  soul.  Still,  he 
struggled  against  the  chill  of  his  despair,  and  with  all  the  strength 
of  his  being  he  strove  against  misfortune. 

"I  will  not  succumb,"  thought  he,  "I  will  not  be  vanquished  by 
this  secret  grief.  I  will  not  be  a  cause  of  sorrow  to  my  friends  and 
of  triumph  to  my  enemies — I  will  live  and  overpower  misfortune. 
Since  all  in  Vienna  is  so  dark,  let  me  seek  sunshine  elsewhere — I 
will  travel ! — Away  from  this  stifling  court,  to  breathe  the  free  air 
of  heaven !  Here  I  am  an  emperor  without  an  emjDire ;  there  at 
least  I  shall  be  a  man,  to  whom  the  world  belongs,  wherever  his 
steed  has  strength  and  speed  to  bear  him.  Yes,  let  me  travel,  that 
I  may  gird  up  my  loins  for  the  day  when  the  sun  of  royalty  shall 
rise  for  me.  It  will  come  !  it  will  come  !  And  when  it  dawns,  it 
must  find  me  strong,  refreshed,  and  ready  for  action. " 

The  emperor  made  his  preparations  to  depart,  and  then,  in  com- 
pliance with  the  requisitions  of  court  etiquette,  he  sought  his 
mother,  to  obtain  her  consent  to  his  journey.  Maria  Theresa  re- 
ceived her  son  with  that  half-mournful  tenderness  which  lent  such 
an  indescribable  fascination  to  her  appearance  and  manners.  She 
looked  at  him  with  a  smile  so  winning  and  aff'ectionate,  that  Joseph, 
in  spite  of  himself,  felt  touched  and  gladdened  ;  and  the  hand  which 
his  mother  held  out  was  most  fervently  pressed  to  his  lips.  It  was 
the  fii'st  time  they  had  met  in  private  since  the  empress  had  reas- 
cended  her  throne,  and  both  felt  the  embarrassment  and  significance 
of  the  hour. 

"I  have  longed  for  this  moment  with  anxious  and  beating  heart, 

my  son,"  said  the  mother,   while  she  drew  him  toward  her.     "I 

know,   my  cliild,  that  your  heart  is  embittered  toward  me.     You 

think  that  I  would  have  been  wiser  as  well  as  kinder  had  I  never 

left  my  widow's  cloister.     But  reflect,  my  dear  son,  as  I  have  done, 

that  my  sceptre  was  given  me  by  the  hand  of  God,  and  that  it  would 

be  sinful  and  cowardly  in  me  to  give  it  into  the  hands  of  another 

until  He,  in  His  wisdom,  releases  me  from  durance." 

*  She  kept  her  word.  Every  month,  on  the  day  of  her  Iiushand's  death,  she  spent 
the  day  in  solitary  prayer  and  on  every  yearly  anniversary  of  her  widowhood,  she 
knelt  for  hours  hy  the  side  of  tlie  emperor's  tomb,  jjr.ayinp  for  the  repose  of  his  soul. 
Her  private  apartments  were  ever  after  lunif^  with  k'"'i.v,  and  her  coaches  and  liveries 
were  of  the  same  sad  hue.— Caroline  Picliler,  "  Memoirs." 


MOTHER  AND  SON.  167 

Joseph  looked  with  genuine  emotion  at  the  agitated  countenance 
of  his  mother.  He  saw  the  tears  gather  and  fall  from  her  eyes  ;  he 
saw  the  quivering  lip,  the  trembling  frame  ;  he  felt  that  her  integ- 
rity was  beyond  suspicion,  her  love  for  him  beyond  all  question. 
The  icy  barriers  that  had  closed  upon  his  heart,  gave  way  ;  he  felt 
the  warm  and  sunny  glow  of  a  mother's  unspeakable  love,  and,  yield- 
ing to  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  he  flung  his  arras  around  the 
empress's  neck,  while  he  covered  her  face  with  kisses.  "Mother, 
ray  dear  mother !"  sobbed  he  ;  and  as  if  these  words  had  opened  the 
floodgates  of  all  the  love  which  filled  his  heart,  he  leaned  his  head 
upon  her  bosom,  and  was  silent. 

Slie  smiled  fondly  upon  hira  as  he  lay  there ;  she  returned  his 
kisses,  and  stroked  his  fair,  high  forehead  with  her  loving  hand. 

"Have  you  come  back  once  more  to  your  mother's  heart,  my 
darling?"  whispered  she.  "Have  you  found  your  way  back  to  the 
nest  whence  you  have  wandered  away  so  long,  you  stray  birdling? 
Do  you  feel,  my  son,  that  the  mother's  bosom  is  the  resting-place 
for  her  children?  Oh!  promise  me,  my  heart's  treasure,  to  trust 
and  love  me  from  this  hour?  We  are  human,  and  therefore  we  are 
sinful  and  erring.  I  well  know,  dear  boy,  that  I  have  many  fail- 
ings. From  my  heart  I  regret  them  ;  and  if  in  your  short  life,  as 
boy  or  man,  I  have  grieved  you,  pardon  me,  dearest,  for  I  have  not 
meant  it  in  unkindness. " 

"  No,  mother, ''  said  Joseph,  "  it  is  I  who  should  sue  for  pardon. 
My  heart  is  wild  and  stubborn ;  but  I  believe  that  it  beats  with  a 
love  as  true  and  warm  for  ray  empress  as  that  of  any  other  man  in 
Austria.  Have  patience  with  me,  then,  my  mother,  for  I  am  in- 
deed a  wandering  bird  ;  and,  in  my  wild  flight,  the  shafts  of  this 
life  have  wounded  and  maimed  me.  But  let  us  not  speak  of  life — 
mine  is  a  blasted  one. " 

"  Yes,  my  son,  let  us  speak  of  your  life,  and  of  its  misfortunes ; 
for  I  know  that  Josepha  of  Bavaria  is  its  chiefest  sorrow.  I  have 
heard  something  of  your  unhappiness  as  a  husband,  and  I  pity  you 
both. " 

"You  pity  her!"  cried  Joseph,  hastily.  "How  does  she  deserve 
my  mother's  compassion?" 

The  empress  laid  her  hand  gently  upon  her  son's  shoulder.  "She 
loves  you,  Joseph, "  said  she,  "  and  I  cannot  refuse  my  sympathy  to 
a  woman  who  loves  without  hope  of  return. " 

"She  loves  me!"  exclaimed  Joseph,  with  a  laugh  of  derision. 
"  Yes — and  her  love  is  my  abhorrence  and  ray  shame.  Her  ogling 
glances  make  me  shudder  with  disgust.  When  she  turns  upon  me 
her  blotched  and  pimpled  face,  and  calls  me  by  the  natue  of  husband, 
the  courtiers  sneer,  and  I — I  feel  as  if  I  would  love  to  forget  my 
manhood  and  fell  her  to  the  earth. " 

"She  is  certainly  ugly, "said  the  erapress,  shaking  her  head, 
"  but  uglier  women  than  she  have  inspired  love.  And  remember, 
Joseph,  that  you  chose  her  yourself.  Besides,  she  has  an  excellent 
heart,  if  you  woidd  but  take  the  trouble  to  exploi'e  its  unknown 
regions.  Moreover,  you  will  one  day  be  sole  Emperor  of  Austria, 
and  you  should  seek  to  give  an  heir  to  your  throne.  If  Josepha 
were  the  mother  of  your  children,  you  would  no  longer  think  her 
ugly." 

"'She  the  mother  of  my  children  !"  cried  Joseph,  with  such  keen- 
ness of  hate,  that  the  empress  shuddered.     "  Do  you  think  me  capable 

13 


168  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

of  such  a  degradation  ?  You  have  not  seen  Van  Swieten  lately,  or 
he  would  have  told  you  that  this  woman,  in  addition  to  her  other 
attractions,  is  troubled  with  a  new  malady. " 

"  Van  Swieten  did  not  mention  it  to  me. " 

"Well,  then,  your  majesty,  I  will  mention  it.  This  so-caUed 
empress  has  the  scurvy. " 

"Oh,  my  son,  my  poor  boy  !"  cried  the  empress,  putting  her  arm 
around  Joseph's  neck  as  though  she  would  have  shielded  him  from 
infection.  "That  is  a  disgusting  malady,  but  Van  Swieten's  skill 
will  soon  conquer  it. " 

"Yes  ;  but  neither  he  nor  you  will  ever  conquer  my  hate  for  Jier. 
Not  all  the  world  could  make  me  forgive  the  deception  that  was 
practised  upon  me  when  she  was  allowed  to  become  my  wife.  This 
woman  the  mother  of  my  children  !  No !  No  one  shall  ever  force 
me  to  be  the  father  of  any  thing  born  of  Josepha  of  Bavaria  !" 

The  empress  turned  away  and  sighed.  It  was  in  vain.  This 
was  hatred  strong  as  death.  "May  God  comfort  you  both!"  said 
she,  mournfully. 

"Then  He  must  put  us  asunder!"  cried  out  Joseph,  almost  be- 
side himself.  "Believe  me,  mother, "  continued  he,  "death  alone 
can  bring  us  consolation ;  and  may  God  forgive  me  when  I  pray 
that  this  atoning  angel  may  come  to  my  relief !  She  or  I !  No 
longer  can  I  bear  this  ridicule  of  hearing  this  leper  called  an 
empress !" 

"  Ti-avel,  then,  ray  dear  son, "  said  his  mother.  "  Travel  and  try 
to  enjoy  life  away  from  Vienna.  Perchance  when  you  will  have 
seen  how  little  true  happinesss  there  is  on  earth,  experience  may 
come  to  your  help,  and  teach  you  to  be  less  unhappy. " 

The  emperor  shook  his  head.  "Nothing,"  replied  he,  moodily, 
"  can  ever  console  me.  Wherever  I  go,  I  shall  hear  the  rattle  of  my 
prisoner's  chain.  Let  us  speak  of  it  no  more.  I  thank  your  majesty 
for  the  permission  to  leave  Vienna,  and  I  thank  you  for  this  bright 
and  sacred  hour,  whose  memory  will  bless  me  as  long  as  I  live. 
You  have  been  to  me  this  day  a  tender  and  sympathizing  mother. 
May  I  henceforward  be  to  you  a  grateful  and  obedient  son. " 

"  You  have  not  yet  told  me  whither  you  desire  to  travel, "  said 
the  empress,  after  a  pause. 

"With  your  majesty's  permission,  I  would  wish  to  travel  in 
Bohemia  and  Moravia,  and  then  I  wish  to  visit  the  courts  of  Dresden 
and  Munich.  Both  sovereigns,  through  their  ambassadors,  have 
sent  me  urgent  invitations. " 

"  It  would  be  uucourteous  to  refuse, "  said  the  empress,  earnestly. 
"  It  is  politic  for  us,  as  far  as  possible,  to  bind  all  the  German  princes 
to  us  by  interchange  of  kindness. " 

"Since  this  is  your  majesty's  opinion,  I  hope  that  you  will  also 
consent  to  my  acceptance  of  a  third  invitation.  The  King  of  Prussia 
has  requested  to  have  an  interview  with  me  at  Torgau. " 

The  brow  of  the  empress  darkened. 

"The  King  of  Prussia?'"  said  .she.  almost  breathless. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty  ;  and,  to  be  frank  with  you,  it  is  of  all  my 
invitations  the  one  which  I  most  desire  to  accei^t.  I  long  to  see  face 
to  face  the  king  whom  all  Europe,  friend  or  foe,  tmites  in  calling 
'Frederick  the  Great' — great  not  only  as  a  hero,  but  also  as  a  law- 
giver. " 

"Yes,"  cried  the  empress,  with  indignation,  "the  king  whom 


MOTHER  AND  SON.  169 

infidels  delight  to  honor.  I  never  supposed  that  lie  would  presume 
to  approach  my  son  and  heir  as  an  equal.  The  Mai'grave  of  Bran- 
denburg has  a  right  to  hold  the  wash-basin  of  the  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many, but  methinks  he  forgets  his  rank  when  he  invites  him  to  an 
interview. " 

"Ah,  your  majesty, "  replied  Joseph,  smiling,  "the  Margrave  of 
Brandenburg,  to  our  sorrow  and  our  loss,  has  proved  himself  a  king  ; 
in  more  than  one  battle  has  he  held  the  wash-basin  for  Austria's 
sovereign,  but  it  was  to  fill  it  with  Austrian  blood. " 

Maria  Theresa  grew  more  and  more  angry  as  she  heard  these  bold 
words.  "It  ill  becomes  my  son,"  said  she,  "to  be  the  panegyrist  of 
the  victor  whose  laurels  were  snatched  from  his  mother's  brow." 

"Justice  impels  me  to  acknowledge  merit,  whether  I  see  it  in 
friend  or  foe, "  answered  the  emperor.  "  Frederick  of  Prussia  is  a 
great  man,  and  I  only  hope  that  I  may  ever  resemble  him. " 

The  empress  uttered  an  exclamation,  and  her  large  eyes  darted 
lightning  glances. 

"  And  thus  speaks  my  son  of  the  man  who  has  injured  and  robbed 
his  mother  !"  exclaimed  she  indignantly.  "  My  son  would  press  his 
hand  who  has  spilled  such  seas  of  Austrian  blood — would  worship 
as  a  hero  the  enemy  of  his  race  !  But  so  long  as  I  reign  in  Austria, 
no  Hapsburger  shall  condescend  to  give  the  hand  to  a  Hohenzollern. 
There  is  an  old  feud  between  our  houses  ;  it  cannot  be  healed." 

"  But  if  there  is  feud,  your  majesty  perceives  that  it  is  not  the 
fault  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  since  he  holds  out  the  right  hand  of 
friendship.  I  tliink  it  much  more  Christian-like  to  bury  feuds  than 
to  perpetuate  them.  Your  majesty  sees,  then,  how  Frederick  has 
been  calumniated,  since  he  follows  the  Christian  precept  which 
commands  us  to  forgive  our  enemies." 

"I  wish  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him,"  said  the  empress. 

"But,  as  I  had  the  honor  of  saying  before,  the  king  lias  sent  me 
a  pressing  invitation,  and  you  said  just  now  that  it  would  be  un- 
courteous  to  refuse. " 

"Not  the  invitation  of  Frederick.     I  will  not  consent  to  that." 

"Not  even  if  I  beg  it  as  a  favor  to  myself?'  asked  Joseph  fer- 
vently. "  Not  even  if  I  tell  you  that  I  have  no  wish  so  near  at  heart 
as  that  of  knowing  the  King  of  Prussia?  Think  of  this  day,  so 
brightened  to  me  by  the  sunshine  of  your  tenderness !  Let  the 
mother  plead  for  me  with  the  sovereign  ;  for  it  is  not  to  my  empress, 
it  is  to  my  mother  that  I  confide  my  hopes  and  wishes.  Oh,  do  not 
drown  the  harniony  of  this  hoiu*  in  discord !  Do  not  interpose  a 
cloud  between  us  now. " 

The  empress  threw  back  her  head.  "You  threaten  me,  sir,  with 
your  displeasure?  If  there  are  clouds  between  us,  see  that  they  dis- 
perse from  your  own  brow,  and  show  me  the  face  of  a  loyal  subject 
and  a  respectful  son.  I  will  not  consent  to  this  visit  to  the  King  of 
Prussia  ;  the  very  thought  of  it  is  galling  to  my  pride." 

"Is  that  your  majesty's  last  word?" 
"It  is  my  last." 

"Then  I  have  nothing  further  to  say,  except  that,  as  in  duty 
bound,  I  will  obey  the  orders  of  my  sovereign, "  replied  Joseph,  turn- 
ing deathly  pale.  "I  shall  refuse  the  invitation  of  the  King  of 
Prussia,  and  Iseg  leave  to  retire. " 

Without  awaiting  the  answer  of  his  mother,  he  bowed,  and 
hastily  left  the  room. 


170  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Dismissed  like  a  school-boy, "  muttered  he,  while  tears  of  rage 
flowed  down  his  cheeks.  "  Two  chains  on  my  feet — the  chains  of 
this  accursed  marriage,  and  the  chains  of  my  filial  duty,  impede 
my  every  step.  When  I  would  advance,  they  hold  me  back  and  eat 
into  my  flesh.  But  it  is  of  no  use  to  complain,  I  must  learn  to  bear 
my  fate  like  a  man.  I  cannot  rebel  openly,  therefore  must  I  be 
silent.     But  my  time  w411  come  ! 

He  raised  his  head  proudly,  and  with  a  firm  step  took  the  way  to 
his  private  apartments.  He  went  at  once  into  his  study,  where,  on 
his  writing-desk,  lay  the  letter  of  the  King  of  Prussia. 

The  emperor  seatc^"'.  himself  at  the  desk,  and,  with  a  heavy  sigh, 
took  up  his  pen.  "  Tell  the  king,  yovir  master, "  wrote  he,  "  that  I 
am  not  yet  my  own  master  ;  I  am  the  slave  of  another  will.  But  I 
will  find  means  some  day  to  atone  for  the  rudeness  which  I  have 
been  forced  to  offer  him  in  return  for  his  kindness. "  * 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

DEATH    THE    LIBERATOR. 

The  cruel  enemy  which  had  laid  low  so  many  branches  of  the 
noble  house  of  Hapsburg,  had  once  more  found  entrance  into  the 
imperial  palace  at  Vienna.  This  terrific  invisible  foe,  which,  from 
generation  to  generation,  had  hunted  the  imperial  family  with  such 
keen  ferocity,  was  the  small-pox.  Emperors  and  Empresses  of 
Austria  had  been  its  victims,  and  almost  every  one  of  Maria 
Theresa's  children  bore,  sooner  or  later,  its  brand  upon  their  faces. 
This  fiend  had  robbed  them  of  tlie  fair  Isabella  ;  and  now  its  enven- 
omed hand  was  laid  upon  the  afiianced  bride  of  the  King  of  Naples. 
Tlie  beautiful  young  Johanna  was  borne  to  the  vaults  of  the  Capu- 
chins, while  in  the  palace  its  inmates  were  panic-stricken  to  hear 
that  Josepha  of  Bavaria,  too,  had  taken  the  infection. 

With  such  lightTiing  swiftness  had  the  venom  darted  through 
the  veins  of  the  unhappy  empress,  that  her  attendants  had  fled  in 
disgust  from  the  pestiferous  atmosphere  of  her  chamber. 

And  there,  with  one  hired  nurse,  whom  the  humane  Van  Swieten 
liad  procured  from  a  hospital,  lay  the  wife  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria. 

No  loving  liand  smoothed  the  pillow  beneatli  her  burning  head, 
or  held  the  cooling  cup  to  her  blood-stained  lips  ;  no  friendly  voice 
whispered  words  of  sympathy  ;  no  familiar  face  bent  over  her  with 
looks  of  pity. 

Alone  and  forsaken,  as  she  had  lived,  so  must  she  die !  At  his 
first  wife's  bedside;  Joseph  had  watched  day  and  night ;  but  Josopha's 
h(!  did  not  approacli.  In  vain  liad  slie  sent  each  day,  through  Van 
Swieten,  a  petition  to  see  liim,  if  only  once  ;  Joseph  returned,  for 
all  answer,  that  his  duty  to  his  mother  and  sisters  forbade  tlie  risk. 

And  there  lay  the  woman  whose  princely  station  mocked  her 
misery  ;  there  she  lay,  unpiti(^d  and  unloved.  The  inmates  of  the 
palace  hurried  past  the  infected  room,  stopping  their  breathing  as 
they  ran  :  tlH>  danglitcrs  of  Marin  Tlu>resa  never  sonnich  as  inquired 
whetlier  their  abliorred  sister-in-law  were  living  or  dead. 

But  the  poor  dying  empress  was  not  even  alone  with  her  misery. 

♦Hubner,  "  Life  of  Joseph  II.,"  vol.  i.,  p.  ST.— Gross-Hofflnger,  vcl.  i.,  p.  116. 


DEATH  THE  LIBERATOR.  171 

Memory  was  there  to  haunt  her  with  mournful  histories  of  her  past 
life  :  pale,  tearful,  despairing  were  these  ghosts  of  an  existence  un- 
checkered  by  one  ray  of  happiness.  Ah,  with  what  a  heart  full  of 
trembling  hope  had  she  entered  the  walls  of  this  palace,  which  to 
her  had  proved  a  prisoner's  cell !  With  what  rapture  had  she  heard 
the  approaching  step  of  that  high-born  emperor,  her  husband,  on 
their  wedding-night ;  and  oh,  how  fearful  and  how  swift  had  fallen 
the  bolt  of  his  vengeance  upon  her  sin  !  Memory  whispered  her  of 
this. 

She  thought  of  the  Emperor  Francis,  of  his  tender  sympathy 
with  her  sorrow  ;  she  remembered  how  he  had  conspired  with  her 
on  that  fatal  night  at  Innspruck.  Then  she  remembered  her  hus- 
band's scorn,  his  withering  insults,  and  her  loss  of  consciousness. 
She  thought  how  she  had  been  found  on  the  floor,  and  awakend  by 
the  terrifying  intelligence  of  the  emperor's  sudden  death.  Her  tears, 
her  despair,  she  remembered  all ;  and  her  wail  of  sorrow  at  the  loss 
of  her  kindest  friend.*    Memory  whispered  her  of  this. 

She  thought  of  her  dreary  life  from  that  day  forward  :  forever 
the  shrinking  victim  of  Christina's  sneers,  because  she,  and  not  the 
sister  of  Albert  of  Saxony,  had  become  the  emperor's  wife.  Even 
the  kind-hearted  Maria  Theresa  had  been  cold  to  her ;  even  she,  so 
loving,  so  affectionate,  had  never  loved  Josejjha.  And  the  wretched 
woman  thought  how  one  day  when  the  imperial  family  had  dined 
together,  and  her  entrance  had  been  announced  as  that  of  "Her 
majesty,  the  reigning  empress, "  the  archduchesses  had  sneered,  and 
their  mother  had  smiled  in  derision.  Memory  whispered  her  of 
this,  t 

She  thought  how  her  poor,  martyred  heart  had  never  been  able 
to  give  up  all  hope  of  love  and  happiness  ;  how  day  by  day  she  had 
striven,  through  humility  and  obedience,  to  appease  lier  husband's 
auger.  But  he  had  always  repulsed  her.  One  day  she  had  resolved 
that  he  should  see  her.  She  knew  that  the  emperor  was  in  the 
daily  habit  of  sitting  on  the  balcony  which  divided  her  apartments 
fi'om  his.  She  watched  his  coming,  and  went  forward  to  meet  him. 
But  when  he  saw  her,  in  spite  of  her  tears  and  supplications,  with 
a  gesture  of  disgust,  he  left  the  balcony  and  closed  the  window  that 
led  to  it.  The  next  day,  when  she  ventured  a  second  time  on  the 
balcony,  she  found  it  separated  by  a  high  partition,  shutting  out  all 
hojie  of  seeing  her  husband  more.  And  she  remembered  how,  one 
day  afterward,  when  she  stepped  out  upon  it,  and  her  husband  be- 
came aware  of  her  presence,  he  had,  in  sight  of  all  the  passers-by, 
started  back  into  his  room,  and  flung  down  his  window  with  vio- 
lence, t     Memory  whispered  her  of  this. 

But  now  that  she  had  expiated  her  first  fault  by  two  years  of 
bitter  repentance,  now  that  death  was  about  to  free  him  from  her 
hated  presence  forever,  surely  he  would  have  mercy,  and  forgive 
her  the  crime  of  having  darkened  his  life  by  their  unahppy  union. 

Oh,  that  once  more  she  could  look  into  the  heaven  of  those  deep- 
blue  eyes  !  That  once  more  before  she  died  she  could  hear  the  music 
of  that  voice,  which  to  her  was  like  the  harmony  of  angels'  tongues  ! 

In  vain  !  Ever  came  Van  Swieten  with  the  same  cold  message— 
"Tlie  emperor  cannot  compromise  the  safety  of  his  relatives." 

*  Wraxall,  vol.  ii.,  pag:e  411. 

t  Hubiier,  "  Life  of  .Joseph  II. ,"  p.  27. 

j Caroline  Pichler,  "Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  p.  188. 


172  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

At  last,  in  the  energy  of  despair,  Josepha  sat  erect  in  her  bed, 
and  with  her  livid,  bloody  hands,  wrote  a  letter  which  Van  Swieten, 
at  her  earnest  entreaty,  delivered  to  the  emperor. 

When,  after  a  short  absence,  he  returned  with  another  denial, 
she  gave  such  a  shriek  of  anguish  that  it  was  heard  throughout  the 
palace. 

Van  Swieten,  overwhelmed  by  pity  for  the  poor  martyr,  felt  that 
he  must  make  one  more  effort  in  her  behalf.  He  could  do  nothing 
for  her  :  bodily,  she  was  beyond  his  power  to  heal ;  but  he  was  re- 
solved to  be  the  physician  of  her  broken  heart,  and,  if  it  lay  within 
the  power  of  man,  to  soothe  and  comfort  her  dying  moments. 

With  the  letter  which  Joseph  had  returned  to  him,  he  hastened 
to  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa.     To  her  he  pictured  the  agony  of  her 
dying  daughter-in-law,  and  besought  her  to  soften  the  emperor's 
heart. 

The  empress  listened  with  deep  emotion  to  the  long-tried  friend 
of  her  house.  Tears  of  sympathy  gathered  in  her  eyes,  and  fell  over 
her  pale  cheeks. 

"Joseph  will  not  grant  her  request,  because  he  fears  the  infec- 
tion for  usV"  asked  she. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  that  is  his  pretext. " 

"  He  need  not  fear  for  me,  and  he  can  remain  at  a  distance  from 
the  other  members  of  the  family, "  said  Maria  Theresa.  "  But  I 
know  what  are  his  real  sentiments.  He  hates  Josepha,  and  it  is  his 
hatred  alone  that  prevents  him  from  granting  her  petition.  He  has 
a  hard,  unforgiving  heart ;  he  never  will  pardon  his  wife — not  even 
when  she  lies  cold  in  her  grave. " 

"And  she  will  not  die  until  she  has  seen  him. "  returned  Van 
Swieten,  sadly.  "  It  seems  as  if  she  had  power  to  keep  off  death 
until  the  last  aim  of  lier  being  has  been  reached.  Oh,  it  is  fearful 
to  see  a  soul  of  such  fire  and  resolution  in  a  body  alread}'  decaying." 

The  empress  shuddered.  "  Come,  Van  Swieten, "  said  she,  reso- 
lutely, "  I  know  how  to  force  Joseph  to  the  bedside  of  his  poor,  dying 
wife." 

She  rose,  and  would  have  gone  to  the  door,  but  Van  Swieten,  all 
ceremony  forgetting,  held  her  back. 

"I  will  call  the  emperor  myself,"  said  he;  "whither  would  your 
majestj'^  go?" 

"  Do  not  detain  me, "  cried  the  empress,  "  I  must  go  to  the  em- 
peror. " 

"But  what  then?"  asked  Van  Swieten,  alarmed. 

The  empress,  who  had  already  crossed  her  anteroom,  looked  back 
with  a  countenance  beaming  with  noble  energy. 

"I  will  do  my  duty, "  replied  she.  "I  will  do  what  Christian 
feeling  prompts.     I  will  go  to  Josepha." 

"No,  your  majesty,  no,  "cried  Van  Swieten,  again  laying  hands 
upon  his  sovereign.  "  You  owe  it  to  your  people  and  your  children 
not  to  expose  yourself  to  danger. " 

The  empress  smiled  sadly.  "Doctor,  where  did  Isabella  and 
Johanna  take  the  infection?  God  called  them  to  Himself,  and  God 
has  shielded  me.  If  it  pleases  Him  that  I  also  shall  sulVer  this  fear- 
ful scourge,  it  will  not  be  from  contagion.  It  will  be  from  His 
divine  hand." 

"  No,  no,  5^oiu-  majesty,  it  will  be  my  fault, "  cried  Van  Swieten. 
"On  my  head  will  be  the  sin." 


DEATH  THE  LIBERATOR.  173 

"I  free  you  from  all  responsibility, "  replied  she,  "and  say  no 
more;  for  it  is  my  duty  to  visit  this  deserted  woman's  death-bed. 
I  have  been  less  kind  to  her  than  I  should  have  been,  and  less  indul- 
gent than  on  my  death-bed  I  will  wish  to  have  been.  I  have  not 
been  a  tender  mother  to  her,  living — let  me  comfort  her,  at  least, 
now  that  she  is  dying. " 

"  But  she  has  not  asked  for  your  majesty, "  persisted  Van  SwieteiL 
"  Wlierefore— " 

But  suddenly  he  stopped,  and  a  cry  of  horror  was  stifled  between 
his  lips.  He  had  seen  upon  the  forehead  and  cheeks  of  the  empress 
those  small,  dark  spots  which  revealed  to  his  experienced  eye  that 
it  was  too  late  to  shield  her  from  infection. 

Maria  Theresa  was  too  excited  to  remark  the  j^aleness  of  Van 
Swieten.     She  continued  : 

"  Go  to  Joseph,  and  tell  him  that  I  await  him  at  the  death-bed  of 
his  wife.  He  will  not  dare  refuse  her  now.  Go,  doctor,  we  must 
both  do  our  duty. " 

Van  Swieten  stepped  aside,  for  he  had  blocked  the  door. 

"Go,  your  majesty,"  said  he,  almost  inaudibly.  "I  will  not  de- 
tain you,  but  will  see  the  emperor. "  He  turned  away,  sick  at  heart. 
"  One  empress  dying,  and  another ! — O  God  !  grant  me  help  that  I 
may  save  my  beloved  Maria  Theresa  !" 

Meanwliile  the  empress  hurried  through  the  deserted  halls  of  the 
palace  to  the  room  of  tlie  unhappy  Josepha.  As  she  approached  the 
door,  she  heard  her  voice  in  tones  of  bitterest  anguish.  The  sound 
filled  the  heart  of  Maria  Theresa  with  deepest  sympathy  and  sorrow. 

For  one  moment  she  stood  irresolute ;  then,  gathering  all  her 
strength,  she  opened  the  door,  and  went  in.  At  the  foot  of  the  bed 
knelt  two  Ursuline  nuns,  those  angels  of  mercy  who  are  ever  present 
to  comfort  the  dying.  The  entrance  of  the  empress  did  not  inter- 
rupt their  prayers.  They  knew  that  no  one  could  rescue  the  dying 
woman  ;  they  were  praying  Heaven  to  comfort  her  departing  soul. 

But  was  she  comforted?  She  ceased  her  lamentations,  and  now 
lay  still.  She  had  heard  the  door  open,  and  had  struggled  to  rise ; 
but  she  was  too  weak,  and  sank  back  with  a  groan. 

But  she  had  seen  the  empress,  who,  with  the  courage  of  a  noble 
spirit,  had  conquered  her  disgust,  and  advancing  to  the  bed,  bent 
over  Josepha  with  a  sweet,  sad  smile.  Josepha  saw  it,  and  the 
empress  looked  more  beautiful  to  her  dying  eyes  than  she  had  ever 
looked  before. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  poor  daughter, "  whispered  she,  in  broken 
accents.  "I  come  to  give  you  a  mother's  blessing,  and  to  beg  of 
Almighty  God  to  give  you  peace. " 

"Peace,  peace!"  echoed  the  sufferer,  while  the  empress,  with  a 
shudder  survej'ed  her  black  and  bloated  face. 

Suddenly  she  uttered  a  cry,  and  opened  her  arms.  "  He  comes ! 
he  comes !"  cried  she ;  and  her  dying  eyes  unclosed  with  a  ray  of 

joy- 
Yes,  he  came — he,  whom  she  had  so  longed  to  see. 
When  Van   Swieten  told  him    that  the  empress  had  gone  to 

Josepha's  room,  he  started  from  his  seat,  and  hurried  through  the 

corridor  with  such  wild  speed  that  the  physician  had  been  unable 

to  follow  him. 

Hastily  approaching  the  bed,  he  put  his  arms  gently  around  his 

mother,  and  sought  to  lead  her  away. 


174  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COUET. 

"Mother,"  said  he,  imploringly,  "leave  this  room.  It  is  my 
duty  to  be  here,  not  yours.  Bid  adieu  to  the  Empress  Josepha, 
and  go  hence. " 

"Oh,  oh!"  groaned  Josepha,  falling  back  upon  her  pillow,  "he 
does  not  come  for  my  sake,  but  for  his  mother's. " 

"  Yes,  Josepha, "  replied  Joseph,  "  I  am  here  for  your  sake  also, 
and  I  shall  remain  with  you. " 

"I  also  will  remain,"  said  Maria  Theresa.  "This  sacred  hour 
shall  unite  in  love  those  who  so  long  have  been  severed  by  error  and 
misapprehension.  Life  is  a  succession  of  strivings  to  do  well,  and 
relapses  into  wrong.  We  feel  that  we  have  eiTed  toward  you,  and 
we  come  with  overflowing  hearts  to  crave  forgiveness.  Forgive  us, 
Josepha,  as  you  hope  to  be  forgiven  !" 

"Forgive  me  also,  Josepha, "  said  Joseph,  with  genuine  emotion. 
"  Let  us  part  in  peace.  Forgive  me  my  obduracy,  as  from  my  soul 
I  forgive  you.     We  have  both  been  unhappy — " 

"  No, "  interrupted  Josepha,  "  I  have  not  been  unhappy  ;  for  I — I 
have  loved.  I  die  happy  ;  for  he  whom  I  love  no  longer  turns  ab- 
horrent from  my  presence.  I  shall  die  by  the  light  of  your  pardon- 
ing smile.  Death,  that  comes  every  moment  nearer,  death,  to  me, 
brings  happiness.  He  comes  with  his  cold  kiss,  to  take  my  parting 
breath — the  only  kiss  my  lips  have  ever  felt.  He  brings  me  love 
and  consolation.  He  takes  from  my  face  the  hideous  mask  which 
it  has  worn  through  life  ;  and  my  soul's  beauty,  in  another  world, 
shall  win  me  Joseph's  love.  Oh  death,  the  comforter !  I  feel  thy 
kiss.     Farewell,  Joseph,  farewell !" 

"Farewell !"  whispered  Joseph  and  Maria  Theresa. 

A  fearful  pause  ensued — a  slight  spasm — a  gasp — and  all  was  over. 

"She  is  released!"  said  Van  Swieten.  "May  her  soul  rest  in 
peace !" 

The  Ursulines  intoned  the  prayers  for  the  dead,  and  Maria 
Theresa,  in  tears,  clasped  her  hands  and  faltered  out  the  responses. 
Suddenly  she  reeled,  heaved  a  sigh,  and  fell  back  in  the  emperor's 
arms. 

"My  mother,  my  dear  mother  !"  cried  he,  terrified. 

Van  Swieten  touched  him  lightly.  "  Do  not  arouse  her.  Yonder 
sleeps  the  one  empress  in  death — her  pains  are  past ;  but  this  one, 
our  beloved  Maria  Theresa,  has  yet  to  suffer.  May  God  be  merciful 
and  spare  lier  life  !" 

"Her  life!"  cried  Joseph,  turning  pale. 

"  Yes,  her  life, "  said  Van  Swieten,  solemnly.  "  The  empress  hag 
the  small-pox. "  * 

CHAPTER    XLII. 

THE  MIRROR. 

Six  fearful  weeks  had  gone  by — six  weeks  of  anxiety,  suspense, 

and  care,  not  only  for  the  imperial  family,  but  for  all  Austria. 

Like  the  liglitning's  flash,    intelligence  had  gone  through  the 

♦The  Empress  Josepha  died  May  28,  IVfiT,  at  the  age  of  tweuty-nine  years.  Her 
body  was  so  decayed  by  small-pox,  that,  before  her  death  the  tlesh  tell  from  her  in 
pieces.  It  was  so  completely  decomposed,  that  it  was  impossible  to  pay  it  the  cus- 
tomary funeral  lionors.  It  was  hurriedly  wrapjX'd  up  in  a  linen  cloth,  and  coffined. 
From  these  circumstances  a  rumor  prevailed  in  Bavaria  that  she  had  uot  died,  but 
had  been  forced  into  a  cloister  by  her  husband. 


THE  MIRROR.  175 

land  that  the  empress  was  in  danger,  and  her  subjects  had  lost  in- 
terest in  every  thing  except  the  bulletins  issued  from  the  palace 
where  Van  Swieten  and  Von  Storck  watched  day  and  night  by  the 
bedside  of  their  beloved  sovereign.  Deputations  were  sent  to 
Vienna,  sympathizing  with  the  emperor,  and  the  avenues  to  the 
palace  were  thronged  with  thousands  of  anxious  faces,  each  waiting 
eagerly  for  the  bulletins  that  came  out  four  times  a  day. 

At  last  the  danger  passed  away.  Van  Swieten  slept  at  home, 
and  the  empress  was  recovering. 

She  had  recovered.  Leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  emperor,  and 
surrounded  by  her  happy  children,  Maria  Theresa  left  her  widow's 
cell  to  take  up  her  abode  in  the  new  and  splendid  apartments  which, 
during  her  convalescence,  Joseph  had  prepared  for  her  reception. 

She  thanked  her  son  for  his  loving  attention,  so  contrary  to  his 
usual  habits  of  economy,  and  therefore  so  much  the  more  a  proof  of 
his  earnest  desire  to  give  pleasure  to  his  mother.  She,  in  her  turn, 
sought  to  give  strong  expression  to  her  gratitude,  by  admiring  with 
enthusiasm  all  that  had  been  done  for  her.  She  stopped  to  examine 
the  costly  Tiirkey  carpets,  the  gorgeous  Gobelin  tapestries  on  the 
walls,  the  tables  carved  of  precious  woods,  or  inlaid  with  jewels  and 
Florentine  mosaic,  the  rich  furniture  covered  with  velvet  and  gold, 
the  magnificent  lustres  of  sparkling  crystal,  and  the  elegant  trifles 
which  here  and  there  were  tastefully  disposed  upon  etageres  or 
consoles. 

"Indeed,  my  son,"  cried  the  empress,  surveying  the  beautiful 
suite,  "you  have  decorated  these  rooms  with  the  taste  and  prodi- 
gality of  a  woman.  It  adds  much  to  my  enjoyment  of  their  beauty 
to  think  that  all  this  is  the  work  of  your  loving  hands.  But  one 
thing  has  my  princely  son  forgotten  ;  and  tlierein  he  betrays  his  sex, 
showing  that  he  is  no  woman,  but  in  very  truth  a  man." 

"  Have  I  forgotten  something,  your  majesty?"  asked  Joseph. 

"  Yes ;  something,  my  son,  which  a  woman  could  never  have 
overlooked.     There  are  no  mirrors  in  my  splendid  home." 

"No  mirrors!"  exclaimed  Joseph,  looking  confused.  "No — yes 
— indeed,  your  majesty  is  right,  I  had  forgotten  them.  But  I  beg 
a  thousand  pardons  for  my  negligence,  and  I  will  see  that  it  is  re- 
paired. I  shall  order  the  costliest  Venetian  mirrors  to  be  made  for 
these  apartments. " 

While  Joseph  spoke,  his  mother  looked  earnestly  at  his  blushing 
face,  and  perfectly  divined  both  his  embarrassment  and  its  cause. 
She  turned  her  eyes  upon  her  daughters,  who,  with  theirs  cast  dowTi, 
were  sharing  their  brother's  perplexity. 

"  I  must  wait  then  until  my  mirrors  are  made, "  said  the  empress, 
after  a  pause.  "You  must  think  that  I  have  less  than  woman's 
vanity,  my  son,  if  you  expect  me  to  remain  for  weeks  without  a 
greeting  from  my  looking-glass.  Of  course  the  small-pox  has  not 
dared  to  disfigure  the  face  of  an  empress  ;  I  feel  secure  against  its 
sacrilegious  touch.  Is  it  not  so,  mjr  little  Marie  Antoinette?  Has  it 
not  respected  your  mother's  comeliness?" 

The  little  archduchess  looked  frightened  at  the  question,  and 
timidly  raised  her  large  eyes.  "  My  imperial  mamma  is  as  hand- 
some as  ever  she  was, "  said  the  child,  in  a  trembling  voice. 

"  And  she  will  always  be  handsome  to  us,  should  she  live  until 
old  age  shall  have  wrinkled  her  face  and  paled  her  cheeks, "  cried 
Joseph  warmly.     "  The  picture  of  her  youthful  grace  and  beauty  is 


176  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

engi-aved  upon  our  hearts,  and  nothing  can  ever  remove  it  thence. 
To  the  eyes  of  her  children  a  noble  and  beloved  mother  is  always 
beautiful. " 

The  empress  said  nothing  in  reply.  She  smiled  affectionately 
upon  her  son,  and  inclining  her  head  kindly  to  the  others,  retired 
to  her  sitting-room.  She  walked  several  times  up  and  down,  and 
finally  approached  her  mirror.  In  accordance  with  an  old  supersti- 
tion, which  pronounces  it  ill-luck  to  allow  a  looking-glass  in  the 
room  of  a  sick  person,  this  large  mirror  had  been  covered  with  a 
heavy  silk  curtain.  The  empress  drew  it  back  ;  but  instead  of  her 
looking-glass,  she  was  confronted  by  a  portrait  of  her  late  husband, 
the  emperor.  She  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  joy,  and 
contemplated  the  picture  with  a  happy  smile.  "God  bless  thee,  my 
Franz,  my  noble  emperor!"  whispered  she.  "Thou  art  ever  the 
same  ;  thy  dear  smile  is  unaltered,  although  I  am  no  longer  thy 
handsome  bride,  but  a  hideous  and  disfigured  being,  from  whom  my 
children  deem  it  fit  to  conceal  a  looking-glass.  Look  at  me  with 
thy  dear  eyes,  Franz ;  thou  wert  ever  my  mirror,  and  in  thy  light 
have  I  seen  my  brightest  day  of  earthly  joy.  My  departed  beauty 
leaves  me  not  one  pang  of  regret,  since  thou  art  gone  for  whom  alone 
I  prized  it.  Maria  Theresa  has  cease  .  to  be  a  woman — she  is  nothing 
more  than  a  sovereign,  and  what  to  her  are  the  scars  of  the  small- 
pox? But  I  must  see  what  I  look  like,"  said  she,  dropping  the  cur- 
tain.    "I  will  show  them  that  I  am  not  as  foolish  as  they  imagine." 

She  took  up  her  little  golden  bell  and  rang.  The  door  of  the 
next  room  opened,  and  Charlotte  von  Hieronymus  entered.  The 
empress  smiled  and  said :  "  It  is  time  to  make  my  toilet.  I  will 
dine  to-day  en  famille  with  the  emperor,  and  I  must  be  dressed. 
Let  us  go  into  my  dressing-room." 

The  maid  of  honor  courtesied  and  opened  the  door.  Every  thing 
there  was  ready  for  the  empress.  The  tire-woman,  the  mistress  of 
the  wardrobe,  the  maids  of  honor  were  all  at  their  posts  ;  and 
Charlotte  hastened  to  take  her  place  behind  the  large  arm-chair  in 
which  the  emjjress  was  accustomed  to  have  her  hair  dressed. 

But  Maria  Theresa  saw  that  she  had  not  been  expected  in  her 
dressing-room,  for  her  cheval-glass  was  encumbered  with  shawls, 
dresses,  and  cloaks.  She  took  her  seat,  smilingly  saying  to  herself, 
"  I  shall  see  myself  now,  face  to  face. " 

Cliarlotte  i)assed  the  comb  through  the  short  hair  of  the  empress, 
and  sighed  as  she  thought  of  the  otifering  that  had  been  laid  in  the 
emperor's  coflSn  ;  while  the  otlier  maids  of  honor  stood  silent  around. 
Maria  Tlieresa,  usually  so  familiar  and  talkative  at  this  hour, 
spoke  not  a  word.  She  looked  sharply  at  tlie  cheval-glass,  and  began 
carelessly,  and  as  if  by  cliance,  to  remove  with  her  foot,  the  dresses 
that  encumbered  it ;  then,  as  if  ashamed  of  her  artifice,  she  sud- 
denly rose  from  the  chair,  and  with  an  energetic  gesture  unbared 
the  mirror. 

No  mirror  was  there  !  Nothing  greeted  the  empress's  eyes  save 
the  empty  frame.  She  turned  a  reproachful  glance  upon  the  little 
coiffense. 

Charlotte  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  looked  imploringly  at  the  em- 
press. "It  is  my  fault,  your  majesty,"  said  she,  blushing  and 
tembling ;  "I  alone  am  the  culprit.  Pardon  my  maladroitness,  I 
pray  you?" 

"What  do  you  mean,  child?"  asked  the  empress. 


THE  MIRROR.  177 

"I — I  broke  the  looking-glass,  your  majesty.  I  stumbled  over  it 
in  the  dark,  and  shivered  it  to  pieces.  I  am  very,  very  awkward — 
I  am  very  sorry. " 

"What!  You  overturned  this  heavy  mirror!"  said  Maria  Theresa. 
"  If  so,  there  must  have  been  a  fearful  crash.  How  comes  it  that  I 
never  heard  any  thing— I  who  for  six  weeks  have  been  ill  in  the 
adjoining  room?" 

"It  happened  just  at  the  time  when  your  majesty  was  delirious 
with  fever  ;  and — " 

"And  this  mirror  has  been  broken  for  three  weeks  !"  said  Maria 
Theresa,  raising  her  eyebrows  and  looking  intently  at  Charlotte's 
blushing  face.  "Three  weeks  ago  !  I  think  you  might  have  had  it 
replaced,  Charlotte,  by  this  time  ;  hey,  child?" 

Charlotte's  eyes  sought  the  floor.  At  length  she  stammered,  in 
a  voice  scarcely  audible,  "Please  your  majesty,  I  could  not  suppose 
that  you  would  miss  the  glass  so  soon.  You  have  made  so  little  use 
of  mirrors  since — " 

"  Enough  of  this  nonsense, "  interrupted  the  empress.  "  You  have 
been  well  drilled,  and  have  played  your  part  with  some  talent,  but 
don't  imagine  that  I  am  the  dupe  of  all  this  pretty  acting.  Get  up, 
child  ;  don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself,  but  put  on  my  crape  cap  for 
me,  and  then  go  as  quickly  as  you  can  for  a  looking-glass." 

"  A  looking-glass,  your  majesty  ?"  cried  Charlotte  in  a  frightened 
voice. 

"  A  looking-glass, "  repeated  the  empress  emphatically. 
"  I  have  none,  your  majesty. " 

"  Well,  then, "  said  Maria  Theresa,  her  patience  sorely  tried  by 
all  this,  "  let  some  one  with  better  eyes  than  yours  look  for  one. 
Go,  Sophie,  and  bid  one  of  the  pages  bring  me  a  mirror  from  my 
old  apartments  below.  I  do  not  suppose  that  there  has  been  a 
general  crashing  of  all  the  mirrors  in  the  palace.  In  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  I  shall  be  in  my  sitting-room.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the 
mirror  must  be  there.  Be  quick,  Sophie  ;  and  you,  Charlotte,  finish 
the  combing  of  my  hair.  There  is  but  little  to  do  to  it  now,  so  dry 
your  tears. " 

"Ah  !"  whispered  Charlotte,  "I  would  there  were  more  to  do.  I 
cannot  help  crying,  your  majesty  when  I  see  the  ruins  of  that 
beautiful  hair. " 

"And  yet,  poor  child,  you  have  spent  so  many  weary  hours  over 
it,"  replied  the  empress.  "You  ought  to  be  glad  that  your  delicate 
little  hands  are  no  longer  obliged  to  bear  its  weight.— Charlotte," 
said  she  suddenly. "you  have  several  times  asked  for  your  dismissal. 
Now,  you  shall  have  it,  and  you  shall  marry  your  lover,  Counsellor 
Greiner.     I  myself  will  give  you  away,  and  bestow  the  dowry. "  _ 

The  grateful  girl  pressed  the  hand  of  the  empress  to  her  lips, 
while  she  whispered  words  of  love  and  thanks. 

Maria  Theresa  smiled,  and  took  her  seat,  while  Charlotte  com- 
pleted her  toilet.  Match-making  was  the  empress's  great  weakness, 
and  she  was  in  high  spirits  over  the  prospect  of  marrying  Charlotte. 
The  simple  mourning  costume  was  soon  donned,  and  the  empress 
rose  to  leave  her  dressing-room.  As  she  passed  the  empty  frame  of 
the  Psyche,  she  turned  laughing  toward  her  maid  of  honor. 

"I  give  you  this  mirror,  Charlotte,"  said  she.  "If  the  glass  is 
really  broken,  it  shall  be  replaced  by  the  costliest  one  that  Venice 
can  produce.     It  will  be  to  you  a  souvenir  of  your  successful  debut  as 


178  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

an  actress  on  this  day.  You  have  really  done  admirably.  But  let 
lue  tell  you  one  thing,  my  child,"  continued  Maria  Theresa,  taking 
Charlotte's  hand  in  hers.  "Never  be  an  actress  with  your  husband  ; 
but  let  your  heart  be  reflected  in  all  your  words  and  deeds,  as  yon- 
der mirror  will  give  back  the  truthful  picture  of  your  face.  Let  all 
be  clear  and  bright  in  your  married  intercourse ;  and  see  that  no 
breath  of  deception  ever  cloud  its  surface.  Take  this  wedding-gift, 
aud  cherish  it  as  a  faithful  monitor.  Truth  is  a  light  that  comes  to 
us  from  Heaven  ;  let  us  look  steadily  at  it,  for  evil  as  well  as  for 
good.  This  is  the  hour  of  my  trial — no  great  one— but  still  a  trial. 
Let  me  now  look  at  truth,  and  learn  to  bear  the  revelation  it  is  about 
to  make." 

She  opened  the  door,  and  entered  her  sitting-room.  Her  com- 
mands had  been  obeyed  ;  the  mirror  was  in  its  place.  She  advanced 
with  resolute  step,  but  as  she  approached  the  glass  her  ej'es  were  in- 
stinctively cast  down,  until  she  stood  directly  before  it.  The  de- 
cisive moment  had  arrived  ;  she  was  to  see — whatv 

Slowly  her  eyes  were  raised,  and  she  looked.  She  uttered  a  low 
cry,  and  started  back  in  horror.  She  had  seen  a  strange,  scarred, 
empurpled  face,  whose  colorless  lips  and  hard  features  had  filled  her 
soul  with  loathing. 

But  with  all  the  strength  of  her  In-ave  and  noble  heart,  Maria 
Theresa  overcame  the  shock,  and  looked  again.  She  forced  her  eyes 
to  contemplate  the  fearful  image  that  confronted  her  once  beautiful 
face,  and  long  and  earnestly  she  gazed  upon  it. 

"  Well, "  said  she  at  last,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  must  make  acquaintance 
with  this  caricature  of  my  former  self.  I  must  accustom  myself  to 
the  mortifying  fact  that  this  is  Maria  Theresa,  or  I  might  some  of 
these  days  call  for  a  page  to  drive  out  that  hideous  old  crone  !  I 
must  learn,  too,  to  be  resigned,  for  it  is  the  hand  of  my  heavenly 
Father  that  has  covered  my  face  with  this  grotesque  mask.  Since 
He  lias  thought  fit  to  deprive  me  of  my  beauty,  let  His  divine  will 
be  done. " 

For  some  moments  slie  remained  silent,  still  gazing  intently  at 
tlie  mirror.  Finally  a  smile  overspread  her  entire  countenance,  and 
she  nodded  at  the  image  in  the  glass. 

"  Well !  you  ugly  old  woman, "  said  she  aloud,  "  we  have  begun 
our  acquaintance.  Let  us  be  good  friends.  I  do  not  intend  to  make 
one  effort  to  lessen  your  ugliness  by  womanly  art;  I  must  seek  to 
win  its  pardon  from  the  world  by  noble  deeds  and  a  well-spent  life. 
Perhaps,  in  future  days,  when  my  subjects  lament  my  homeliness, 
they  may  add  that  nevertheless  I  was  a  good,  and — well !  in  this 
hour  of  humiliation  we  may  praise  one  another,  I  think — perchance 
a  great  .sovereign." 

Here  the  empress  turned  from  the  mirror  and  crossing  over  to 
the  spot  where  the  emperor's  portrait  hung,  she  continued  her  solilo- 
quy. "But  Franz,  dear  Franz,  you  at  least  are  spared  the  sight  of 
your  Theresa's  transformation.  I  could  not  have  borne  this  as  I  do, 
if  you  had  l)i'cn  here  to  witness  it.  Now!  what  matters  it?  My 
people  will  not  remind  me  of  it,  and  my  children  have  already 
promised  to  love  me,  and  forgive  my  deformity.  Sleep,  then,  my 
beloved,  until  I  rejoin  you  in  heaven.  There,  the  mask  will  fall  for 
me,  as  for  poor  Jose^jilia,  and  there  we  shall  be  glorified  and  happy." 

The  empress  tlicn  returncMl  to  the  dressing-room,  where  her 
attendants,  anxious  and  unliappy,  awaited  her  reappearance.     What 


THE  INTERVIEW  WITH  KAUNITZ.  179 

was  their  astonishment  to  see  her  tranquil  and  smiling,  not  a  trace 
of  discontent  upon  her  countenance  ! 

"  Lot  the  steward  of  the  household  be  apprised  that  I  will  have 
mirrors  in  all  my  apartments.  Thej"  can  be  hung  at  once,  and  may 
be  replaced  by  those  which  the  emperor  has  ordered,  whenever  they 
arrive  from  Venice.  Let  my  page  Gustavus  repair  to  Cardinal 
Migazzi  and  inform  him  that  to-morrow  I  make  my  public  thanks- 
giving in  the  catliedral  of  St.  Stephen.  I  shall  go  on  foot  and  in 
the  midst  of  my  people,  that  they  may  see  me  and  know  that  I  am 
not  ashamed  of  the  judgments  of  God.  Let  Prince  Kaunitz  be 
advised  that  on  to-morrow,  after  the  holy  sacrifice,  I  will  receive 
him  here.  Open  my  doors  and  windows,  and  let  us  breathe  the  free 
air  of  heaven.  I  am  no  longer  an  invalid,  my  friends  ;  I  am  strong, 
and  ready  to  begin  life  anew. " 


CHAPTER    XLIII. 

THE  INTERVIEW  WITH   KAUNITZ. 

From  earliest  morning  the  streets  of  Vienna  had  been  thronged 
by  a  joyous  multitude,  eagerly  awaiting  the  sight  of  their  restored 
sovereign.  All  Viejina  had  mourned  when  the  empress  lay  ill ;  all 
Vienna  now  rejoiced  that  she  had  recovered.  Maria  Theresa's  road 
to  the  church  was  one  long  triumph — the  outpouring  of  the  sincere 
love  which  filled  the  hearts  of  her  subjects.  The  empress  had  done 
nothing  to  coixrt  this  homage  ;  for  the  notice  given  to  the  cardinal 
had  been  as  short  as  it  possibly  could  be  ;  but  the  news  of  the  thanks- 
giving had  flown  from  one  end  of  Vienna  to  the  other ;  and  every 
corporation  and  society,  the  students  of  every  college,  and  every 
citizen  that  was  at  liberty  to  leave  home,  flocked  to  congratulate  the 
well- beloved  sovereign.  The  streets  through  which  she  had  to  pass 
were  lined  with  people  bearing  flags,  banners,  and  emblems,  while 
near  them  stood  the  children  of  the  educational  and  orphan  asylums, 
which  had  been  endowed  by  the  munificence  of  the  empress.  Lofty 
and  lowly,  rich  and  poor,  stood  in  friendly  contact  with  each  other  ; 
even  the  nobles,  imitating  Maria  Theresa's  aff'ability,  mixed  smiling 
and  free  among  the  people.  All  sense  of  rank  and  station  seemed 
lost  in  the  universal  joy  of  the  hour. 

The  bells  chimed,  and  the  people  rent  the  air  with  shouts  ;  for 
this  was  the  signal  of  the  empress's  sortie  from  the  palace,  and  her 
people  knew  that  slie  was  coming  to  meet  them.  At  last  they  saw 
her  ;  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  emperor,  and  followed  by  her  other 
children,  she  came,  proud  and  resolute  as  ever.  It  was  a  beautiful 
sight,  this  empress  with  her  ten  lovely  sons  and  daughtei's,  all  joy- 
ful and  smiling,  as  like  siniple  subjects  they  walked  through  the 
streets  toward  the  church,  to  tliank  God  for  her  recovery. 

Inexpressible  joy  beamed  from  Maria  Theresa's  eyes — those 
superb  eyes  whose  light  the  small-pox  conld  not  quench.  Her  great 
and  noble  soul  looked  out  from  their  azure  depths,  and  her  head 
seemed  encircled  by  a  glory.  In  this  hovr  she  was  no  "ugly  old 
crone,"  she  was  the  happy,  proud,  triumphant  empress,  who  in  the 
eyes  of  her  people  was  both  beautiful  and  beloved.  For  the  moment 
her  widow's  sorrows  were  forgotten  ;  and  when  surrounded  by  so 
many  loyal  hearts,  she  sank  on  her  knees  before  the  altar  of  St. 


180  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Stephen,  she  thanked  God  for  the  joy  of  this  hour,  and  made  a  vow 
that  her  whole  life  should  be  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  the  people 
who  on  this  day  had  given  her  so  touching  a  welcome. 

Exhausted  not  only  by  emotion,  but  by  the  heat  of  the  Julj^  sun 
which  shone  on  her  head  as  she  returned,  the  empress  at  last  reached 
her  own  rooms.  Her  tire-women  hastened  to  relieve  her  of  her 
coverings  and  to  dry  her  moistened  hair  and  face.  But  she  waved 
them  back. 

''No,  no,  my  friends,  let  me  refresh  myself  in  my  own  way. 
The  air  is  more  skilful  than  your  hands,  and  is  softer  than  your 
napkins.  Open  the  doors  and  the  windows,  and  place  my  arm-chair 
in  the  middle  of  the  room. " 

"  But,  your  majesty, "  remonstrated  one  of  the  maids  of  honor, 
"you  forget  your  condition.     The  draught  will  do  you  injury." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  such  fastidious  peojjle  mean  by  a  draught, " 
replied  the  empress,  laughing  and  taking  her  seat;  "Ijut  I  know 
that  the  good  God  has  sent  this  air  from  heaven  for  man's  enjoy- 
ment ;  and  when  I  feel  its  cool  kiss  upon  my  cheek,  I  think  that 
God  is  nigh.  I  have  always  loved  to  feel  the  breath  of  my  Creator, 
and  therefore  it  is  that  I  have  always  been  strong  and  healthy. 
See !  see !  how  it  blows  away  my  mantle !  You  are  right,  sweet 
summer  wind,  I  will  throw  the  burden  away. " 

She  let  fall  her  mantle,  and  gave  her  bare  shoulders  to  the  wind, 
enjoying  the  breeze,  and  frightening  her  maids  of  honor  out  of  their 
propriety. 

'•  Now,  let  me  have  some  refreshment, "  cried  she.  Away  sped 
two  or  three  of  the  ladies,  each  one  anxious  to  escape  from  the  gust 
that  was  driving  every  thing  before  it  in  the  empress's  rooms. 

A  page  brought  in  a  tray,  and  there,  in  the  centre  of  the  room, 
the  empress,  although  yet  overheated,  ate  a  plate  of  strawberries, 
and  drauk  a  glass  of  lemonade,  cooled  in  ice.* 

She  was  interrupted,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  comfort,  by  another 
page,  who  announced  Prince  Kaunitz.  Maria  Theresa  rose  hastily 
from  her  seat.  "Shut  all  the  doors  and  windows,"  exclaimed  she, 
"  do  not  let  him  scent  the  dravight. "  f 

Wliile  her  orders  were  being  obeyed,  she  looked  around  to  con- 
vin(;e  heiself  that  every  avenue  was  closed  through  which  the  wind 
might  penetrate,  and  that  done,  she  ordered  the  door  to  be  thrown 
open,  and  tlie  prince  admitted. 

Prince  Kaunitz  approached  with  his  usual  serious  and  tranquil 
demeanor.  He  bowed  low,  and  said  :  "  I  congratulate  your  majesty 
and  tlie  Austrian  empire,  upon  your  happy  recovery.  I,  who  liave 
no  fear  of  any  other  enemy,  have  trembled  before  this  deadly  foe 
of  your  imperial  house.  For  all  other  dangers  we  have  craft  and 
valor  ;  but  against  this  one  no  bravery  or  statesmanship  can  avail." 

"But  skill  lias  availed  ;  and  to  Van  Swieten,  uuder  Providence, 
lam  indebted  for  my  life, "  cried  tlie  empress,  warmly.  "I  know, 
Kaunitz,  that  you  have  l)ut  little  faith  in  heavenly  or  earthly  physi- 
cians ;  and  I  pray  God  that  you  may  never  acquire  it  through  the 
bitter  experience  of  such  suffer ing  as  I  have  but  lately  endured ! 

*  Caroline  Pichler,  "  Memoirs.'"  vol.  i.,  pp.  18, 19.  Maiia  Theresa  siippoi-ted  without 
pain  e.xtreirie  degrees  of  heat  and  eold.  Summer  and  winter  her  windows  stood 
oiJen,  and  often  the  snow-flakes  have  been  seen  to  fall  upon  her  escritoire  while  she 
■wrote.  In  winter,  the  Emperor  Joseph  always  came  into  his  mother's  rooms  wrapped 
in  furs. 

tWraxall,  vol.  ii.,  p.  380. 


THE  INTERVIEW   WITH   KAUNITZ.  181 

Often  during  my  sleepless  nights  I  have  longed  for  a  sight  of  your 
grave  face,  and  it  grieved  nie  to  think  that  perchance  we  might 
never  meet  again  to  talk  of  Austria,  and  plan  for  Austria's  welfare." 

"But  I  knew  that  your  majesty  would  recover,"  said  Kaunitz, 
with  unusual  warmth  ;  "  I  knew  it,  for  Austria  cannot  spare  you, 
and  as  long  as  there  is  work  for  you  here  below,  your  strong  mind 
will  bid  defiance  to  death. " 

Maria  Theresa  colored  with  pleasure.  It  was  so  seldom  that 
Kaunitz  gave  utterance  to  such  sentiments,  that  his  praise  was  reaUj' 
worth  having. 

"You  think,  then,  that  Austria  needs  me?"  said  she. 

"  I  do,  indeed,  your  majesty. " 

"But  if  God  had  called  me  to  Himself,  what  would  you  have 
done?" 

"  I  would  still  have  labored,  as  in  duty  bound,  for  my  country  ; 
but  I  would  have  owed  a  lifelong  grudge  to  Providence  for  its 
want  of  wisdom. " 

"You  are  a  scoffer,  Kaunitz,"  said  the  empress.  "Your  Creator 
is  very  merciful  to  allow  you  time  to  utter  the  unchristian  senti- 
ments which  are  forever  falling  from  your  lips.  But  God  sees  tlie 
heart  of  man,  and  He  knows  that  yours  is  better  than  your  words. 
Since  the  loving,  all-suffering  Lord  forgives  you,  so  will  I.  But 
tell  me,  how  has  my  empire  fared  during  these  six  long  weeks?" 

"Well,  your  majesty.  Throughout  the  day  I  worked  for  myself, 
throughout  the  night  for  you,  and  nothing  is  behindliand.  Each 
day  adds  to  our  internal  strength,  that  gives  us  consideration 
abroad,  and  soon  we  shall  hold  our  own  as  one  of  the  four  great 
European  powers,  mightier  than  in  the  days  when  the  sun  never 
set  upon  Austrian  realms.  The  empire  of  Charles  V.  was  grand,  but 
it  was  not  solid.  It  resembled  a  reversed  pyramid,  in  danger  of 
being  crushed  by  its  own  weight.  The  pyramid  to-day  is  less  in 
size,  but  greater  in  base  and  therefore  firmer  in  foundation.* 
Strength  does  not  depend  so  much  upon  size  as  upon  proportion  ; 
and  Austria,  although  her  territory  has  been  vaster,  has  never  been 
so  truly  powerful  as  she  is  in  this,  the  reign  of  your  majesty." 

"If  Silesia  were  but  ours  again!  As  for  Naples  and  Alsatia, 
they  were  never  more  than  disjecta  membra  of  our  empire  ;  and  they 
were  always  less  profit  than  trouble.  But  Silesia  is  ours— ours  by 
a  common  ancestry,  a  common  language,  and  the  strong  tie  of  affec- 
tion. I  shall  never  recover  from  the  blow  that  I  received  when  I 
lost  Silesia. " 

"  We  shall  have  restitution  some  of  these  days,  your  majesty, " 
said  Kaunitz. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  I  shall  ever  recover  Silesia?"  asked 
the  empress,  eagerly. 

"From  the  King  of  Prussia?  No — never!  He  holds  fast  to  his 
possessions,  and  his  sharp  sword  would  be  unsheathed  to-morrow, 
were  w^e  to  lay  the  weight  of  a  finger  upon  his  right  to  Silesia.  Bat 
we  shall  be  otherwise  revenged,  in  the  day  when  we  shall  feel  that 
we  have  attained  the  noontide  of  our  power  and  strength. " 

"  You  do  not  intend  to  propose  to  me  a  war  of  aggression  !"  said 
the  empress,  shocked. 

"  No,  your  majesty,  but  if  we  should  see  two  eagles  tearing  to 
pieces  a  lamb  which  is  beyond  hope  of  rescue,  our  two-headed  eagle 
*  "  Letters  of  a  French  Traveller,"  vol.  i. ,  p.  431. 


182  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

must  swoop  down  upon  tlie  robbers,  and  demand  his  share  of  the 
booty.  I  foresee  evil  doings  among  oiir  neighbors.  Catharine  of 
Russia  is  bold  and  unscrupulous ;  Frederick  of  Prussia  knows  it, 
and  he  already  seeks  the  friendship  of  Russia,  that  he  may  gain  an 
accomplice  as  well  as  an  allj*. " 

"  God  forbid  that  I  sliould  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  King  of 
Prussia!"  cried  Maria  Theresa.      "Never  will  I   accept,  much  less 
seek  an  alliance  with  this  cruel  woman  ;  wliose  throne  is  blood- 
stained and  whose  heart  is  dead  to  every  sentiment  of  womanly 
virtue  and  honor  !" 

"  Yoiu-  majesty  need  have  no  intercourse  with  the  woman  ;  you 
have  only  to  confer  with  the  sovereign  of  a  powerful  neighboring 
empire. " 

"Russia  is  not  a  neighboring  empire,"  exclaimed  the  empress. 
"On  one  occasion  I  wrote  to  the  Empress  Elizabeth,  'I  will  always 
be  your  friend,  but  with  my  consent  you  shall  never  be  my  neigh- 
bor. '  *    Poland  lies  between  Russia  and  Austria. " 

"Yes,"  said  Kaunitz,  with  one  of  his  meaning  smiles,  "but  how 
long  will  Poland  divide  us  from  Russia?" 

"Man!"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa  with  horror,  "you  do  not 
surely  insinuate  that  we  would  dare  to  lay  a  hand  upon  Poland  ?" 

"Not  we,  but  the  Empress  of  Russia  will — " 

"Impossible!  impossible!     She  dare  not  do  it^" 

Kaunitz  shrugged  his  shoulders.  ^'^ Dare,  your  majesty?  Some 
things  we  dare  not  attempt  because  they  are  difficult ;  others  are 
difficult  because  we  dare  not  attempt  them,  f  The  Empress  of  Russia 
dares  do  any  thing ;  for  she  knows  how  to  take  things  easily,  and 
believes  in  her  own  foresight.  Despots  are  grasping,  and  Catharine 
is  a  great  despot.  We  must  make  haste  to  secure  her  good-will, 
that  when  the  time  comes  we  may  all  understand  one  another." 

"  I !"  exclaimed  the  empress,  "  I  should  stoop  so  low  as  to  seek 
the  good- will  of  this  wicked  empress,  who  moimted  her  throne  upon 
the  dead  body  of  her  luisband,  while  her  lovers  stood  by,  their  hands 
reeking  with  tlie  blood  of  the  murdered  emperor  1  Oh,  Kaunitz ! 
you  woidd  never  ;isk  me  to  do  this  thing?" 

"  Your  majesty  is  great  enough  to  sacrifice  your  personal  antipa- 
thies to  the  good  of  your  country.  Your  majesty  once  condescended 
to  write  to  Farinelli,  and  tJia't  act  won  us  the  friendship  of  the 
King  of  Spain  and  of  liis  sons  ;  tJiat  letter  will  be  the  means  of  plac- 
ing an  Archducliess  of  Austria  on  the  tlirone  of  Naples." 

"Would  have  been,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  heaving  a  sigh.  "The 
bride  of  the  King  of  Naples  is  no  more  !  My  poor  Johaima !  My 
beautiful  child  !" 

"But  the  Archduchess  Joseplia  lives,  and  I  had  intended  to  pro- 
pose to  j'our  majesty  to  accept  tlie  luuid  of  the  King  of  Naples  for 
her  liighness. " 

"Is  the  house  of  Naples  then  so  desirous  of  our  alliance  that  it 
has  already  offered  its  lieir  to  another  one  of  my  daugliters?  I  am 
sorry  tliat  we  shoidd  be  obliged  to  acce|)t,  for  I  have  lieard  of  late 
tliat  tlie  king  is  an  illiterate  and  trifling  fellow,  scarcely  betttn-  than 
tlie  lazzaroni  wlio  are  his  chosen  associates.  Josepha  will  not  be 
haj)f)y  with  such  a  man." 

"  Your  majesty,  her  liighness  does  not  many  the  young  igno- 

*  Ilistorical. 

t  Kauuitz's  own  words.    Hormayer,  "Plutarch,"  vol.  xii.,  p.  271. 


THE  INTERVIEW  WITH    KAUNITZ.  183 

ramus  who,  to  be  sure,  knows  neither  how  to  read  nor  write — she 
marries  the  King  of  Naples  ;  and  surely  if  any  thing  can  gracefully 
conceal  a  man's  faults,  it  is  the  purple  mantle  of  royalty." 

"I  will  give  my  child  to  this  representative  of  royalty, "  said 
Maria  Theresa  sadly,  "  but  I  look  upon  her  as  a  victim  of  expediency. 
If  she  is  true  to  her  God  and  to  her  spouse,  I  must  be  content,  even 
though,  as  a  woman,  Josepha's  life  will  be  a  blank. " 

"  And  this  alliance, "  said  Kaunitz,  still  pursuing  the  object  fur 
which  he  was  contending,  "this  marriage  is  the  result  of  one  letter 
to  Farinelli.  Your  majesty  once  condescended  to  write  to  La  Pom- 
padour. That  letter  won  the  friendship  of  France,  and  its  fruits 
will  be  the  marriage  of  the  Archduchess  Marie  Antoinette,  and  her 
elevation  to  the  throne  of  France.  Your  majesty  sees  then  what 
important  .results  have  sprung  from  two  friendly  letters  which  my 
honored  sovereign  has  not  disdained  to  write.  Surely  when  wise 
statesmanship  prompts  your  majesty  to  indite  a  third  letter  to  the 
Empress  of  Russia,  you  will  not  refuse  its  counsels  and  suggestions. 
The  two  first  letters  were  worth  to  us  two  thrones ;  the  third  may 
chance  to  be  worth  a  new  province. " 

"A  new  province!"  exclaimed  the  empress,  coming  closer  to 
Kaunitz,  and  in  her  eagerness  laying  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 
"Tell  me— what  wise  and  wicked  stratagem  do  you  hatch  within 
your  brain  to-day?" 

"My  plans,  so  please  your  majesty, "  said  the  prince,  raising  hie 
eyes  so  as  to  meet  those  of  the  empress,  "  my  plans  are  not  of  to-day. 
They—" 

But  suddenly  he  grew  dumb,  and  gazed  horror-stricken  at  the 
face  of  Maria  Theresa.  Kaunitz  was  short-sighted,  and  up  to  this 
moment  he  had  remained  in  ignorance  of  the  fearful  change  that 
had  forever  transformed  the  empress's  beauty  into  ugliness.  The 
discovery  had  left  him  speechless. 

"Weir?"  cried  the  empress,  not  suspecting  the  cause  of  his  sud- 
den silence.  "  You  have  not  the  courage  to  confide  your  plans  to 
me?  They  must  be  dishonorable.  If  not,  in  the  name  of  Heaven, 
speak  !" 

The  prince  answered  not  a  word.  The  shock  had  been  too  great ; 
and  as  he  gazed  upon  that  scarred  and  blotched  face,  once  so  smooth, 
fair,  and  beautiful,  his  presence  of  mind  forsook  him,  and  his  diplo- 
macy came  to  naught. 

"  Forgive  me,  your  majesty, "  said  he,  as  pale  and  staggering  he 
retreated  toward  the  door.  "A  sudden  faintness  has  come  over  me, 
and  every  thing  swims  before  my  vision.  Let  me  entreat  your  per- 
mission to  retire. " 

Without  awaiting  the  empress's  reply,  he  made  a  hasty  bow,  and 
fled  from  the  room. 

The  empress  looked  after  him  in  utter  astonishment.  "What 
has  come  over  the  man  ?"  said  she  to  herself.  "  He  looks  as  if  he 
had  seen  a  ghost !  Well— I  suppose  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  fit  of 
eccentricity. " 

And  she  flung  back  her  head  with  a  half-disdainful  smile.  But 
as  she  did  so,  her  eyes  lit  accidentally  upon  the  mirror,  and  she  saw 
her  own  image  reflected  in  its  briglit  depths. 

She  started  ;  for  she  had  already  forgotten  the  "  ugly  old  woman 
whom  she  had  apostrophized  on  the  day  previous.     Suddenly  she 
burst  into  a  peal   of    laughter,  and   cried  out,    "No  wonder  poor 
13 


184  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Kaunitz  looked  as  if  he  had  seen  something  horrible  !  He  SAW  me 
— and  I  am  the  Medusa  that  turned  him  into  stone.  Poor,  short- 
sighted man  !  He  had  been  in  blissful  ignorance  of  my  altered  looks 
until  I  laid  my  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  I  must  do  something  to 
heal  the  wound  I  have  inflicted.  I  owe  him  more  than  I  can  well 
repay.  I  will  give  him  a  brilliant  decoration,  and  that  will  be  a 
cure-all ;  for  Kaunitz  is  very  vain  and  very  fond  of  show." 

While  the  empress  was  writing  the  note  which  was  to  accompany 
her  gift,  Kavmitz,  with  his  handkerchief  over  his  mouth,  was  dash- 
ing through  the  palace  corridors  to  his  carriage.  With  an  impa- 
tient gesture  he  motioned  to  his  coachman  to  drive  home  with  all 
speed. 

Not  with  his  usual  stateliness,  but  panting,  almost  running,  did 
Kaunitz  traverse  the  gilded  halls  of  his  own  palace,  which  were 
open  to-day  in  honor  of  the  empress's  recovery,  and  were  already 
festive  with  the  sound  of  the  guests  assembling  to  a  magnificent 
dinner  which  was  to  celebrate  the  event.  Without  a  word  to  the 
Countess  Clary,  who  came  forward  elegantly  attired  for  the  occasion, 
Kaunitz  flew  to  his  study,  and  sinking  into  an  arm-chair,  he  cov- 
ered his  face  with  his  hands.  He  felt  as  if  he  had  been  face  to  face 
with  death.  That  was  not  his  beautiful,  majestic,  superb  Maria 
Theresa ;  it  was  a  frightful  vision — a  messenger  from  the  grave, 
that  forced  upon  his  unwilling  mind  the  dreadful  futurity  tliat 
awaits  all  who  are  born  of  woman. 

"Could  it  be?  Was  this  indeed  the  empress,  whose  beauty  had 
intoxicated  her  subjects,  as  drawing  from  its  sheath  the  sword  of 
St.  Stephen,  she  held  it  flashing  in  the  sun,  and  called  upon  them  to 
defend  her  rights?  Oh,  could  it  be  that  this  woman,  once  beautiful 
as  01ym])ian  Juno,  had  been  ti-ansformed  into  such  a  caricature?" 

A  thrill  of  pain  darted  through  the  whole  frame  of  the  prince, 
and  he  did  what  since  his  mother's  death  he  had  never  done — he 
wept. 

But  gradually  he  overcame  his  grief,  the  scanty  fountain  of  his 
tears  dried  up,  and  he  resumed  his  cold  and  habitual  demeanor. 
For  a  long  time  he  sat  motionless  in  his  chair,  staring  at  the  wall 
that  was  opposite.  Finally  he  moved  toward  his  escritoire  and  took 
up  a  pen. 

He  began  to  write  instructions  for  the  use  of  his  secretaries. 
They  were  never  to  pronounce  in  his  presence  the  two  words  DEATH 
and  SMALL-POX.  If  those  words  ever  occurred  in  any  correspond- 
ence or  official  pajjer  that  was  to  come  before  his  notice,  they  were 
to  be  erased.  Those  who  presented  themselves  before  the  prince 
were  to  be  warned  that  these  fearful  words  must  never  pass  their 
lips  in  iiis  presence.  A  secretary  was  to  go  at  once  to  the  Countess 
Clary,  that  slie  might  prepare  tlie  guests  of  the  prince,  and  caution 
them  against  tiie  use  of  tlu^  offensive  words.* 

Wlien  Kaunitz  liad  (^omjiUited  these  singular  instructions,  he 
rang,  and  gave  the  paper  to  a  i)age.  As  he  did  so,  a  servant  entered 
with  a  letter  and  a  i)ackage  from  her  majesty  the  emjn-ess. 

The  package  contained  the  grand  cross  of  the  order  of  St. 
Stephen,  but  instead  of  tiie  usual  symbol,  tlie  cross  was  composed  of 
costly  brilliants.  The  letter  was  in  the  empress's  own  hand— a 
worthy  answer  to  the  "  instructions"  which  Kaunitz  was  in  the  act 
of  sending  to  his  secretaries. 

♦Hormayer,  "  Austriau  Plutarch,"  vol.  xii.,  p.  274. 


THE  ARCHDUCHESS  JOSEPHA.  185 

The  empress  wrote  as  follows  :  "  I  send  you  the  grand  cross  of  St. 
Stephen  ;  but  as  a  mark  of  distinction  you  must  wear  it  in  brilliants. 
You  have  done  so  much  to  dignify  it,  that  I  seize  with  eagerness 
the  opportunity  which  presents  itself  to  offer  you  a  tribute  of  that 
gratitude  which!  feel  for  your  services,  and  shall  continue  to  feel 
until  the  day  of  my  death.  * 

"Maria  Theresa." 


CHAPTER     XLIV. 
THE  ARCHDUCHESS  JOSEPHA. 

The  plan  of  the  empress  and  her  prime  minister  approached  their 
fulfilment ;  Austria  was  about  to  contract  ties  of  kindred  with  her 
powerful  neighbors. 

Maria  Theresa  liad  again  consented  to  receive  the  King  of  Naples 
as  her  son-in-law,  and  he  was  the  affianced  husband  of  the  arch- 
duchess Josepha.  The  palace  of  Lichtenstein,  the  residence  of  the 
Neapolitan  ambassador  was,  in  consecjueuce  of  the  betrothal,  the 
scene  of  splendid  festivities,  and  in  the  imperial  palace  preparations 
were  making  for  the  approaching  nuptials.  They  were  to  be  solem- 
nized on  the  fifteenth  of  October,  and  immediately  after  the  cere- 
mony the  yoiuig  bride  was  to  leave  Vienna  for  Naples. 

Every  thing  was  gayety  and  bustle  ;  all  were  deep  in  consultation 
over  dress  and  jewels  ;  and  the  great  topic  of  court  conversation 
was  the  2?(i'f'ure  of  brilliants  sent  by  the  King  of  Spain,  whose  sur- 
passing magnificence  had  called  forth  an  expresson  of  astonishment 
from  the  lips  of  the  empress  herself. 

The  trousseau  of  the  ai-chduchess  was  exposed  in  the  apartments 
which  had  once  been  occupied  by  the  enipress  and  lier  husband  ; 
and  now  Maria  Theresa,  followed  by  a  bevy  of  wondering  young 
archduchesses,  was  examining  her  daughter's  princely  wardrobe, 
that  with  her  own  eyes  she  might  be  sure  that  nothing  was  wanting 
to  render  it  worthy  of  a  queen-elect.  The  young  girls  burst  into 
exclamations  of  rapture  when  they  apjjroached  the  table  where,  in 
its  snowy  purity,  lay  the  bridal  dress  of  white  velvet,  embroidered 
with  pearls  and  diamonds. 

"Oh!"  cried  little  Marie  Antoinette,  while  she  stroked  it  with 
her  pretty,  rosy  hand,  "oh,  my  beautiful  Josepha,  you  will  look  like 
an  angel,  when  you  wear  this  lovely  white  dx-ess. " 

"Say  rather,  like  a  queen, "  returned  Josepha,  smiling.  "When 
a  woman  is  a  queen,  she  is  sure  to  look  like  an  angel  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world. " 

"It  does  not  follow,  however,  that  because  she  is  a  queen,  she 
shall  be  as  happy  as  an  angel, "  remarked  the  Archduchess  Maria 
Amelia,  who  was  beti'othed  to  the  Duke  of  Parma. 

"  Nevertheless,  I  would  rather  be  the  unhappy  queen  of  an  im- 
portant kingdom  than  the  happy  wife  of  a  poor  little  prince, "  re- 
plied Josepha,  as,  raising  her  superb  diadem  of  brilliants,  she 
advanced  to  a  mirror  and  placed  it  upon  her  brow.  "  Do  you  think, " 
asked  she  proudly,  "that  I  can  be  very  miserable  while  I  wear  these 
starry  gems  upon  my  forehead  ?     Oh  no  !     If  it  were  set  with  thorns 

*  Wraxall,  vol.  ii.,  p.  479. 


186  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

that  drew  my  blood,  I  would  rather  wear  this  royal  diadem  than  the 
light  coronet  of  an  insignificant  duchess." 

"And  I,"  exclaimed  Amelia,  "would  rather  wear  the  ring  of  a 
beggar  than  be  the  wife  of  a  king  who  neither  reads  nor  writes,  and 
throughout  all  Europe  is  known  by  the  name  of  a  lazzarone. " 

"Before  wliom  millions  of  subjects  must,  nevertheless,  bend  the 
knee,  and  who,  despite  of  all,  is  a  powerful  and  wealthy  monarch, " 
I'eturned  Josepha,  angrily. 

"  That  is,  if  his  master,  the  Marquis  Tannucci  allows  it, "  cried 
the  Archduchess  Caroline,  laughing.  "For  you  know  very  well, 
Josepha,  that  Tannvicci  is  the  king  of  your  lazzaroni-king,  and 
when  he  behaves  amiss,  puts  him  on  his  knees  for  pimishmeut. 
Now  when  you  are  his  wife,  you  can  go  and  comfort  him  in  dis- 
grace, and  kneel  down  in  tlie  corner  by  his  side.  How  interesting 
it  will  be  !" 

Upon  this  the  Archduchess  Amelia  began  to  laugh,  while  her 
sisters  joined  in — all  except  IMarie  Antoinette,  who  with  an  expres- 
sion of  sympathy,  turned  to  Josepha. 

"Do  not  mind  them,  my  Josepha,"  said  she;  "if  your  king  can 
not  read,  j"ou  can  teach  him,  and  he  will  love  you  all  the  better,  iind 
in  spite  of  every  thing,  you  will  be  a  happy  queen  in  the  end. " 

"I  do  not  mind  them,  Antoinette,"  returned  Josepha,  her  eyes 
flashing  with  anger,  "for  I  well  know  that  they  are  envious  of  my 
prosperity,  and  would  willingly  supplant  me.  But  my  day  of  retali- 
ation will  come.  It  will  be  that  on  which  my  sisters  shall  be  forced 
to  acknowledge  the  rank  of  the  Queen  of  Naples,  and  to  yield  her 
precedence !" 

A  burst  of  indignation  would  have  been  the  reply  to  these  haughty 
words,  had  the  Archduche.^s  Caroline  not  felt  a  hand  upon  her 
shoulder,  and  heard  a  voice  which  commanded  silence. 

The  empress,  who,  at  the  beginning  of  this  spicy  dialogue,  had 
been  absent  on  her  survey  in  a  neighboring  apartment,  had  returned, 
and  had  heard  Josepha's  last  words.  Shocked  and  grieved,  she 
came  forv.  ard,  and  stood  in  the  midst  of  her  daughters. 

"Peace!"  exclaimed  the  imperial  mother.  "I  have  heard  such 
words  of  arrogance  fall  from  your  lips  as  nuist  be  expiated  by  hum- 
ble petition  to  your  Creator.  Sinful  creatures  are  Ave  all,  whether 
we  be  princesses  or  peasants  ;  and  if  we  dare  to  lift  our  poor  heads 
in  pride  of  birth  or  station,  God  will  surely  ])unish  us.  With  a 
breath  He  overturns  the  sceptres  of  kings — with  a  breath  He  hurls 
our  crowns  to  earth,  imtil,  cowering  at  His  feet,  we  acknowledge 
our  unworlitliiiH'ss.  It  becomes  a  queen  to  remember  that  she  is  a 
mortal,  jjowerlcss  without  the  grace  of  God  to  do  one  good  action, 
and  wearing  under  the  purple  of  royalty  the  tattered  raiment  of 
humanity.  But  it  is  these  absurd  vanities  that  have  stirred  up  the 
demon  of  pride  in  your  hearts,"  continued  the  empress,  giving  a 
disdainful  toss  to  the  velvet  Avedding-dress  ;  "let  us  leave  these 
wretched  gew-gaws  and  betake  ourselves  to  the  purer  air  of  our  own 
rooms. " 

She  waved  her  hand,  and  motioning  to  her  daugliters,  they  fol- 
lowed her,  silent  and  ashamed.  All  had  their  eyes  cast  down,  and 
none  saw  the  tears  thnt  now  fell  like  rain  from  Josepha's  eyes.  She 
was  thoroughly  mortified  and  longed  to  escape  to  her  room  ;  but  as 
slie  bent  lier  liead  to  take  leave  of  the  empress,  the  latter  motioned 
her  to  remain. 


THE  ARCHDUCHESS  JOSEPHA.  187 

"I  have  as  yet  a  few  words  to  speak  with  you,  my  daughter, " 
said  Maria  Tlieresa,  as  she  closed  the  door  of  her  dressing-room. 
"Your  haughty  couduct  of  this  day  lias  reminded  me  that  you  have 
a  sacred  duty  to  perform.  The  vanities  of  the  world  will  have  less 
weight  with  you  when  you  return  from  the  graves  of  yovu*  ancestors. 
Go  to  the  imperial  vault,  and  learn  from  tlie  ashes  of  the  emperors 
and  empresses  who  sleep  there,  the  notliingness  of  all  worldly  splen- 
dor. Kjieel  down  beside  your  dear  father's  tomb,  and  pray  for 
humility.  Tell  him  to  pra}^  for  me,  Josepha,  for  my  crown  weighs 
heavily  upon  luy  brow,  and  I  fain  would  be  at  rest. " 

Joseplia  made  no  answer.  She  stared  at  her  mother  with  an  ex- 
pression of  horror  an  incredulity,  as  though  she  meant  to  ask  if  she 
iiad  heard  her  words  aright. 

"Well,  my  daughter  !"  cried  Maria  Theresa,  surprised  at  Josepha 's 
silence.  "Why  do  you  linger?  Go — go,  child,  and  recalling  the 
sins  of  your  life,  beg  pardon  of  God,  and  the  blessing  of  your  de- 
ceased father. " 

"Give  me  that  blessing  yourself,  dear  mother,"  faltered  the 
princess,  clasping  her  hands,  and  looking  imploringly  at  the  empress. 
"My  father's  spirit  is  here,  it  is  not  in  that  fearful  vault. " 

The  empress  started.  "  I  cannot  believe, "  said  she,  with  severity, 
"  that  my  daughter  has  cause  to  tremble  before  the  ashes  of  her 
father.     The  guilty  alone  fear  death  ;  innocence  is  never  afraid  !" 

"Oh,  mother,  mother  !     I  have  no  sin  upon  my  soul,  and  yet  I—" 

"And  yet, "  echoed  the  empress  as  Josepha  paused. 

"And  yet  I  shiver  at  the  very  thought  of  going  thither,"  said  the 
archduchess.  "  Yes,  your  majesty,  I  shiver  at  the  thought  of  encoun- 
tering the  black  coffins  and  mouldering  skeletons  of  my  forefathers. 
Oh,  mother,  have  pity  on  my  youth  and  cowardice  !  Do  not  force 
me  to  that  horrid  place  !" 

"  I  have  no  right  to  exempt  you  from  the  performance  of  this 
sacred  duty,  Josepha, "  replied  the  empress  firmly.  "  It  is  a  time- 
honored  custom  of  our  family,  that  the  princesses  of  Austria,  who 
marry  kings,  should  take  leave  of  the  graves  of  their  ancestors.  I 
canouot  release  the  Queen  of  Naples  from  her  duty.  She  is  to  wear 
the  ci'own,  she  must  bear  the  cross. " 

"  But  I  dread  it !  I  dread  it  so  !"  murmured  Josepha.  "  I  shudder 
at  the  thought  of  Josepha's  corpse.  I  never  loved  her,  and  she  died 
without  forgiving  me.  Oh,  do  not  force  me  to  go  alone  in  the 
presence  of  the  dead  !" 

"  I  command  you  to  go  into  the  vavilt  where  repose  the  holy  ashes 
of  your  fathers, "  repeated  the  empress  sternly.  "  Bend  your  lofty 
head,  my  daughter,  and  throw  yourself  with  humility  upon  the 
graves  of  your  ancestors,  there  to  learn  the  vanity  of  all  human 
greatness  and  human  power. " 

"  Mercy,  mercy  !"  cried  the  terrified  girl.  "  I  cannot,  I  cannot 
obey  your  dreadful  behest. " 

"Who  dares  say  'I  cannot, '  when  duty  is  in  question?"  exclaimed 
the  empress.  "You  are  my  daughter  and  my  subject  still,  and  I 
will  see  whether  you  intend  to  defy  my  authority. " 

So  saying,  she  rose  and  rang  her  little  golden  bell.  "The  car- 
riage of  the  Archduchess  Josepha, "'  said  siie  to  the  page  who  answered 
the  summons.  "  Let  a  courier  be  dispatched  to  the  Capuchin  fathers 
to  inforpi  them  that  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  princess  will  visit 
the  imperial  vault.     Now,  princess, "  continued  the  empress  as  the 


188  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 


page  left  the  room,  "you  will  not  surely  have  the  hardihood  to  say 
again, 'I  cannot?'" 

"No,"  faltered  Josepha,  "I  will  obey.  But  one  thing  I  must 
ask.     Does  your  majesty  wish  to  kill  me  V" 

"What  do  you  mean,  child?" 

"  I  mean  that  I  will  die,  if  you  force  me  to  this  vault, "  replied 
Josepha,  pale  as  death.  "I  feel  it  in  the  icy  chill  that  seizes  my 
heart  even  now.  I  tell  you,  mother,  that  I  will  die,  if  you  send  me 
to  the  fearful  place  wliere  Josepha's  corpse  infects  the  air  with  its 
death-mould.     Do  you  still  desire  that  I  shall  go?" 

"You  need  not  seek  to  frighten  me,  Josepha;  stratagem  will 
avail  you  nothing,"  replied  the  empress,  coldly.  "It  is  not  given 
to  mi^rtals  to  know  the  hour  of  their  death,  and  I  cannot  allow  my- 
self to  be  influenced  by  such  folly.  Go, my  cliild,  there  is  nothing 
to  fear  ;  tlie  spirits  of  your  forefathers  will  shield  you  from  harm," 
added  she  kindly. 

"  I  go, "  replied  Josepha  ;  "  but  my  mother  has  sentenged  me  to 
death. " 

She  bent  her  head  and  left  the  room.  The  empress  looked  after 
her  daughter  as  she  went,  and  a  sudden  pang  shot  through  her  heart. 
She  felt  as  though  slie  could  not  let  her  go — she  felt  as  if  she  viust 
call  her  back,  and  pressing  her  to  her  heart,  release  her  from  the  or- 
deal which  tried  her  young  soul  so  fearfully. 

Just  then  the  princess,  who  had  reached  the  door,  turned  her 
large  dark  eyes  with  another  look  of  entreaty.  This  was  enough  to 
restore  tlie  empress  to  her  self-possession. 

She  would  not  call  her  back.  She  saw  rather  than  heard  the 
trembling  lips  that  strove  to  form  a  last  appeal  for  mercy,  and  the 
graceful  figure  vanished. 

When  she  was  out  of  sight,  all  the  tendei'ness,  all  the  anxiety  of 
the  empress  returned.  She  rushed  forward,  then  suddenly  sood  still 
and  shaking  her  head,  she  murmured,  "No!  no!  It  would  be  un- 
pardonable weakness.  I  cannot  yield.  She  must  go  to  the  grave  of 
her  fathers. " 


CHAPTER    XLV. 

THE  DEPARTURE. 

The  messenger  had  returned,  the  carriage  waited,  and  Josepha 
had  no  longer  a  pretext  for  delaying  her  visit  to  the  vault.  She 
must  obey  her  mother's  behest — she  7nust  perform  the  horrible  pil- 
grimage !  Pale  and  speechless  she  suffered  her  attendants  to  throw 
her  mantle  around  her,  and  then,  as  if  in  obedience  to  some  invisible 
phantom  that  beckoned  lier  on,  she  rose  from  her  seat  and  advanced 
rigidly  to  the  door.  Suddenly  sh<'  paused,  and,  turning  to  her  maid 
of  honor,  she  said,  "  Be  so  kind  as  to  call  my  sister  Antoinette,  I 
must  bid  her  farewell." 

A  few  moments  elapsed,  when  the  door  opened  and  the  Arch- 
duchess Marie  Antoinette  flew  into  her  sister's  arms.  Josei^ha 
pressed  licr  closely  to  lier  heart. 

"I  could  not  go,  my  darling,"  whispered  she,  "without  once 
more  seeing  you.  Let  me  look,  for  the  last  time,  upon  that  sweet 
face,  and  those  bright  eyes  that  are  lit  u])  with  the  blue  of  heaven. 
Kiss  me,  dear,  and  promise  not  to  forget  me. " 


THE  DEPARTURE.  189 

"I  can  never  forget,  never  cease  to  love  you,  sister,"  replied  the 
child,  returning  Josepha's  caresses.  "  But  why  do  you  say  farewell? 
Why  are  you  crying?  Are  you  going  to  leave  us  already  for  that 
young  king  who  is  to  take  you  away  from  us?  Oh,  Josepha,  how 
can  you  love  a  man  wliom  you  have  never  seen?" 

"  I  do  not  love  the  King  of  Naples,  dear  child, "  said  Josepha, 
sadly.     "Oh,  Antoinette  !  would  you  could  understand  my  sorrows  !" 

"Speak,  dear  sister, "  I'eplied  Antoinette,  tenderly.  "Am  I  not 
twelve  years  old,  and  does  not  the  Countess  Lerchenfeld  tell  nie, 
every  time  I  do  wrong,  that  I  am  no  longer  a  child?  Tell  me,  then, 
what  grieves  you?     I  will  keep  your  secret,  I  promise  you." 

•■  I  weep, "  said  Josepha,  "  because  it  is  so  sad  to  die  before  one  has 
known  the  happiness  of  living." 

"Die!"  exclaimed  Antoinette,  turning  pale.  "AVhy  do  you 
speak  of  dying,  you  who  are  about  to  become  a  queen?" 

"  I  shall  never  live  to  be  a  queen,  mj'  sister.  The  empress  has 
commanded  me  to  visit  the  imperial  vault.  I  go  thither  to-day  ;  in 
a  few  days  I  shall  be  carried  thither,  never  to  return.*  Farewell, 
Antoinette  ;  I  leave  you  to-daj',  but  I  leave  you  for  the  grave. " 

"  No,  no,  no  !"  screamed  the  child.  "  You  shall  not  go.  I  will 
throw  myself  at  the  feet  of  the  empress,  and  never  rise  until  she  has 
released  you,  dear  sister." 

"Have  you  yet  to  learn  that  the  empress  never  retracts  her 
words?     It  is  useless.     I  must  go,  and  my  death-warrant  is  signed." 

"  It  shall  not  be !"  cried  Antoinette,  beside  herself  with  grief. 
"Wait  dear,  Josepha,  until  I  return.     I  go  to  obtain  your  release." 

"What  can  you  say  to  the  empress,  my  poor  little  one?" 

"I  will  beg  for  mercy,  and  if  she  will  not  listen, I  shall  rise  and 
tell  her  fearlessly,  'Your  majesty,  Josepha  says  that  you  have  sen- 
tenced her  to  death.  No  mortal  has  power  over  the  life  of  an  im- 
perial princess  ;  God  alone  has  that  power.  My  sister  must  not  go 
into  the  vault,  for  if  she  does,  she  dies,  and  that  by  your  hand. '" 

And  as  the  child  spoke  these  words,  she  threw  back  her  head, 
and  her  eyes  darted  fire.     She  looked  like  her  mother. 

"I  see,  Antoinette,"  said  Josepha,  with  a  smile,  "that  you  would 
not  submit  tamely  to  death.  You  have  a  brave  soul,  my  little  sister, 
and  will  know  how  to  struggle  against  misfortune.  But  I— I  have 
no  spirit,  I  can  only  suffer  and  obey  ;  and  before  I  die,  I  must  open 
my  heart  to  you— you  shall  receive  my  last  thoughts. " 

Marie  Antoinette  looked  with  tearful  eyes  at  her  sister,  and  sank, 
white  as  a  lily,  on  her  knees. 

"I  am  ready,"  said  she,  folding  her  hands,  while  Josepha  bent 
forward,  and  laid  her  hand,  as  with  a  blessing,  upon  Antoinette's 
soft  blond  hair. 

"  When  I  am  dead, "  said  Josepha,  "  go  to  my  sisters,  and  beg 
them  to  forgive  my  unkind  words.  Tell  them  that  I  loved  them  all 
dearly.  Say  to  Maria  Amelia  that  she  must  pardon  my  unsisterly 
conduct.  It  arose,  not  from  haughtiness,  but  from  despair.  For, 
Antoinette,  I  hated  the  King  of  Naples,  and  well  I  knew  what  a 
miserable  fate  awaited  me  as  his  queen.  But  there  was  no  rescue 
for  me,  that  I  knew  ;  so  I  ti"ied  to  hide  my  grief  under  the  sem- 
blance of  exultation.  Tell  her  to  forgive  me  for  the  sake  of  the 
tears  I  have  shed  in  secret  over  this  hated  betrothal.     How  often 

*The  princess's  own  words.    See  "  M^moires  surlaVie  Priv6e  de  Marie  An  to  i 
nette,"  par  Madame  Canipan,  vol  i.,  p.  38. 


190  JOSEPH   II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

have  I  called  upon  deatli  to  liberate  me  !  and  yet,  now  that  the  dark 
shadow  of  Azrael's  icy  wing  is  upon  me,  I  fear  to  die." 

"Let  me  die  for  you,  sister!"  exclaimed  Antoinette,  resolutely. 
"Give  me  the  hood  and  mantle.  I  will  cover  my  face,  and  no  one 
will  know  that  it  is  I,  for  I  am  almost  as  tall  as  you.  If  I  never 
return  from  tlie  vault  alive,  the  empress  will  pardon  you  for  my 
sake.  Oh,  I  should  tlie  happy,  if  my  death  would  rescue  you, 
Josepha. " 

And  Antoinette  attempted  to  draw  off  her  sister's  mantle,  and 
put  it  around  her  own  shoulders.     But  Josepha  withheld  her. 

"Dear  child,"  said  she,  kissing  her,  "is  it  possible  that  you  are 
willing  to  die  for  me,  you  who  are  so  young  and  happy?" 

"  For  that  very  reason,  Josepha, "  said  Antoinette,  "  it  might  be 
well  to  die.  Who  knows  what  sorrows  the  world  may  have  in 
reserve  for  me?    Let  me  die  to-day,  dear  sister,  let  me — " 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  maid  of  honor  of  the 
Archducliess  Josepha  appeared. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  highness, "  said  she  deprecatingly.  "  A  page  of 
her  majesty  is  here  to  know  if  you  have  gone  to  the  imperial  vaults. " 

"  Apprise  her  majesty  that  I  am  about  to  leave, "  rei^lied  Josepha, 
with  dignity.  Taking  Antoinette  in  her  arms,  she  said,  in  a  whis- 
per :  "  You  see,  it  is  I  who  must  die.  Farewell,  dearest ;  may  you 
live  and  be  happy  !" 

So  saying,  she  tore  herself  away  from  the  weeping  child  and 
hastened  to  her  caiTiage.  Antoinette,  with  a  shriek,  i-ushed  for- 
ward to  follow,  but  Josepha  had  fastened  the  door.  The  poor  child 
sank  on  her  knees  and  began  to  pray.  But  prayer  brought  no  con- 
solation. Slie  thought  of  her  sister  dying  from  terror,  and  wrung 
her  hands  while  she  cried  aloud. 

Suddenly  she  ceased,  started  to  her  feet,  and  the  blood  mounted 
to  her  pale  face. 

"The  secret  door!"  exclaimed  she.  "I  had  forgotten  it."  She 
crossed  the  room  towai'd  a  picture  that  liung  on  a  wall  opposite,  and 
toucliing  a  spring  in  its  frame,  it  flew  back  and  revealed  a  conuuu- 
nication  with  one  of  the  state-apartments.  Slie  sprang  through  the 
opening,  her  golden  hair  fljing  out  in  showers  behind  her,  her 
cheeks  glowing,  her  eyes  flashing,  and  her  heart  beating  wildly  as 
she  sped  throiigli  the  palace  to  the  empress's  apartments.  The 
sentry  would  have  stopped  her  ;  but  throwing  him  off  with  an  im- 
perious gesture,  she  darted  through  the  door,  and  all  ceremony  for- 
getting, flew  to  the  sittting-rooni  of  the  empress,  and  threw  herself 
at  her  mother's  feet. 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

INOCULATION. 

Maria  Theres.\  was  standing  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window, 
and  she  scarcely  turned  her  head  as  she  heard  the  rustling  behind 
her.  She  took  no  notice  of  the  breach  of  etiquette  of  whic-li  Antoi- 
nette was  guilty,  in  rushi-ng  vmannounced  upon  lier  solitude.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  chapel  of  the  Capuchins  in  whose  vaults 
lay  so  many  wboui  she  bad  loved.  Her  heart  and  thoughts  were 
within  those  gray  walls,  now  with  her  husband  and  her  dead  chil- 


INOCULATION.  191 

dren,   now  with  Josepha,   for  whom  she  felt  pang  aftei'  pang  of 
anxiety.     In  an  absent  tone  she  turned  and  said  : 

"Wliat  brings  you  hither,  little  Antoinette?" 

"Josepha,  dear  mother.     Have  pity  on  Josepha  !" 

The  empress,  with  a  thrill  of  joy  at  her  heart,  replied,  "  She  did 
not  go,  then'?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  she  went  because  you  forced  her  to  go,  but  she  went 
with  a  broken  heart.  Oh,  mamma,  Josepha  says  that  the  dead  are 
waiting  to  take  her  with  them  !  May  I  not  order  my  carriage  and 
lly  to  bring  her  back?" 

Maria  Theresa  said  nothing.  Her  eyes  turned  first  upon  the 
beautiful  little  suppliant  at  her  feet,  then  they  wandered  out  through 
tlie  evening  haze,  and  rested  on  the  dark  towers  of  the  Capuchin 
chapel. 

"Oh,  dear  mamma, "  continued  Antoinette,  " if  I  may  not  bring 
her  back,  at  least  let  me  share  her  danger.  Be  good  to  your  poor 
little  Antoinette.  You  promised,  if  I  behaved  well,  to  do  something 
for  me,  mamma,  and  now  I  deserve  a  reward,  for  Count  Brandeis 
says  that  I  have  been  a  good  girl  of  late.  Do  not  shake  your  head, 
it  would  make  me  better  if  I  went  to  pray  with  Josepha.  Y^ou  do 
not  know  how  vain  and  worldly  I  am.  When  I  saw  Josepha's 
beautiful  jewels  I  was  quite  envious  of  her  ;  and  indeed,  mamma,  no 
one  needs  solitude  and  prayer  more  than  I.  Let  me  go  and  pray  for 
grace  by  the  grave  of  my  father. " 

The  empress  laid  her  hand  upon  her  daughter's  head,  and  looked 
at  her  beautiful  countenance  with  an  expression  of  deepest  tender- 
ness. 

"You  are  a  noble-hearted  child,  my  Antoinette,"  said  she. 
"With  such  sensibility  as  yours,  you  are  likely  to  suffer  from  the 
faults  and  misconceptions  of  the  world  ;  for  magnanimity  is  so  i-are 
that  it  is  often  misunderstood.  You  would  share  your  sister's 
danger,  while  believing  in  its  reality.  No,  no,  darling,  I  cannot 
accept  your  generous  sacrifice.  It  would  be  useless,  for  Josepha's 
terror  will  shorten  her  prayers.  Before  you  could  reach  the  chapel, 
she  will  have  left  it — " 

Maria  Theresa  paused,  and  again  looked  out  from  the  window. 
The  rolling  of  carriage-wheels  was  distinctly  heard  coming  toward 
the  palace.  Now  it  ceased,  and  the  sentry's  voice  was  heard  at  the 
gates. 

"Ah!"  cried  the  empress,  joyfully,  "I  was  right.  It  is  Josepha. 
Her  devotions  have  not  been  long  ;  but  I  will  confess  to  you,  Antoi- 
nette, that  a  weight  is  lifted  from  my  heart.  I  have  not  breathed 
freely  since  she  left  my  presence.  Oh,  I  will  forgive  her  for  her 
short  prayers,  for  they  have  shortened  my  miserable  suspense  !" 

"  Let  me  go  and  bring  her  to  you,  mamma, "  cried  Antoinette, 
clapping  her  hands  and  darting  toward  the  door.  But  the  empress 
held  her  back. 

"No,  dear,  remain  with  me.  Josepha's  heart  will  reveal  to  her 
that  her  mother  longs  to  welcome  her  back." 

At  that  moment  a  page  announced  the  Countess  Lerchenfeld. 

"It  is  not  my  child  !"  cried  the  empress,  turning  pale. 

The  countess,  too,  was  very  pale,  and  she  trembled  as  she  ap- 
proached the  imperial  mother. 

"  She  is  dead  !  "  murmured  Marie  Antoinette,  sinking  almost 
fainting  to  the  floor. 


192  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

But  the  empress  called  out,  "Where  is  my  child?  In  mercy,  tell 
me  why  you  are  here  without  her?" 

"  Please  your  majesty, "  replied  the  countess,  "  I  come  to  beg  that 
you  will  excuse  her  highness.  She  has  been  suddenly  taken  sick. 
She  was  lifted  insensible  to  the  carriage,  and  has  not  yet  recovered 
her  consciousness. " 

Maria  Theresa  reeled,  and  a  deathly  paleness  overspread  her 
covmteuance.  "Sick!"  murmured  she,  with  quivering  lip.  "What 
— what  happened?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  your  majesty.  Accordng  to  your  imperial  com- 
mand I  accompanied  her  highness  to  the  chapel.  I  went  as  far  as 
the  stairway  that  leads  to  the  crypts.  Her  highness  was  strangely 
agitated.  I  tried  to  soothe  her,  but  as  she  looked  below,  and  saw  the 
open  door,  she  shuddered,  and  clinging  to  me,  whispered  :  '  Countess, 
I  scent  the  loathesome  corpse  that  even  now  stirs  in  its  coffin  at  my 
approach. '  Again  I  strove  to  comfort  her,  but  all  in  vain.  Scarcely 
able  to  support  herself,  she  bade  me  farewell,  and  commended  her- 
self to  your  majesty.  Then,  clinging  to  the  damp  walls,  she  tottered 
below,  and  disappeared." 

"  And  did  you  not  hold  her  back  !"  cried  Marie  Antoinette.  "  You 
had  the  cruelty  to  leave  her — " 

"  Peace,  Antoinette, "  said  the  empress,  raising  her  hand,  implor- 
ingly.    "What  else?"  asked  she,  hoarsely. 

"  I  stood  at  the  head  of  the  stairway,  your  majesty,  awaiting  her 
highuess's  return.  For  a  while  all  was  silent ;  then  I  heard  a  pierc- 
ing shriek,  and  I  hastened  to  the  vault — " 

"  Was  it  my  child?"  asked  the  empress,  now  as  rigid  as  a  marble 
statue. 

"Yes,  your  majesty.  I  found  her  highness  kneeling,  with  her 
head  resting  upon  the  tomb  of  the  emperor. " 

"Insensible?" 

"  No,  your  majesty.  I  approached  and  found  her  icy  cold,  her 
eyes  dilated,  and  her  face  covered  with  drops  of  cold  sweat.  She 
vi^as  scarcely  able  to  speak,  but  in  broken  accents  she  related  to  me 
that,  as  she  was  making  her  way  toward  the  altar  at  the  head  of  the 
emperor's  tomb,  she  suddenly  became  sensible  that  something  was 
holding  her  back.  Horror-stricken,  she  strove  to  fly,  but  could  not. 
When,  as  she  turned  her  head,  she  beheld  the  coffin  of  the  Empress 
Josepha,  and  saw  that  from  thence  came  the  power  that  held  her 
back.  With  a  shriek  she  bounded  forward,  and  fell  at  the  foot  of 
the  emperor's  tomb.  I  supported  her  until  we  reached  the  chapel- 
door,  when  she  fainted,  and  I  had  to  call  for  help  to  bear  her  to  her 
carriage. " 

"  And  now  ?"  asked  the  empress,  who  was  weeping  bitterly. 

"She  is  still  unconscious,  your  majesty.  Herr  van  Swieten 
and  the  emperor  are  at  her  bedside. " 

"And  I,"  cried  the  unhappy  empress,  "I,  too,  must  be  with  my 
poor,  martyred  child." 

Marie  Antoinette  would  have  followed,  but  her  mother  bade  her 
remain,  and  hastening  from  the  room,  Maria  Theresa  ran  breathless 
through  the  corridors  until  slie  reached  her  daughter's  apartments. 

There,  like  a  crushed  lily,  lay  the  fair  bride  of  Naples,  while 
near  her  stood  her  brother  in  speechless  grief.  At  the  foot  of  the 
bed  Van  Swieten  arid  one  of  the  maids  of  honor  were  rubbing  her 
white  feet  with  stimulants. 


INOCULATION.  193 

The  empress  laid  her  hand  upon  Josepha's  cold  brow,  and  turn- 
ing to  Van  Swieten,  as  though  in  his  hands  lay  the  fate  of  her  child, 
as  she  asked : 

"WiUshedie?" 

"  Life  and  death, "  replied  the  physician,  "  are  in  the  hands  of  the 
Lord.     As  long  as  there  is  life,  there  is  hope. " 

Maria  Theresa  shook  her  head.  "  I  have  no  hope, "  said  she,  with 
the  calmness  of  despair.  "  'Tis  the  enemy  of  our  house.  Is  it  not, 
Van  Swieten?    Has  she  not  the  small-pox?" 

"  I  fear  so,  your  majesty. " 

"She  must  die,  then — and  it  is  I  who  have  murdered  her!" 
shrieked  the  empress,  wildly  ;  and  she  fell  fainting  to  the  floor. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  October,  the  day  on  which  Josepha  was  to 
have  given  her  hand  to  the  King  of  JSTaples,  the  bells  of  Vienna 
tolled  her  funeral  knell. 

Not  in  her  gilded  carriage  rode  the  fair  young  bride,  but  cold 
and  lifeless  she  lay  under  the  black  and  silver  pall  on  which  were 
placed  a  myrtle-wreath  and  a  royal  crown  of  gold. 

Another  spouse  had  claimed  her  hand,  and  the  man-iage-rites 
were  solemnized  in  the  still  vaults  of  the  chapel  of  the  Capuchins. 

The  empress  had  not  left  her  daughter's  room  since*  the  fatal  day 
of  her  return  from  the  chapel.  With  all  the  tenderness  of  her  afi;ec- 
tionate  nature  she  had  been  the  nurse  of  her  suffering  child.  Not 
a  tear  was  in  her  eye,  nor  a  murmur  on  her  lips.  Silent,  vigilant, 
and  sleepless,  she  had  struggled  with  the  foe  that  was  wresting  yet 
another  loved  one  from  her  house. 

Day  by  day  Josepha  grew  worse — until  she  lay  dying.  Still  the 
empress  shed  no  tear.  Bending  over  her  daughter's  bed,  she  received 
her  last  sigh.  And  now  she  watched  the  corjjse,  and  would  not  be 
moved,  though  the  emperor  and  Van  Swieten  implored  her  to  seek 
rest. 

When  the  body  was  removed,  the  poor,  tearless  mourner  followed 
it  from  the  room  through  the  halls  and  gates  of  the  palace  until  it 
was  laid  in  the  grave. 

Then  she  returned  home,  and,  without  a  word,  retired  to  her  own 
apartments.  There,  on  a  table,  lay  heaps  of  papers  and  letters  with 
unbroken  seals.  But  the  empress  heeded  nothing  of  all  this.  Ma- 
ternity reigned  supreme  in  her  heart — there  was  room  in  it  for  grief 
and  remorse  alone.  She  strode  to  the  window,  and  there,  as  she 
had  done  not  many  days  before,  she  looked  out  upon  the  gray  towers 
of  the  chapel,  and  thought  how  she  had  driven  her  own  precious 
child  into  the  dismal  depths  of  its  loathsome  vaults. 

The  door  was  softly  opened,  and  the  emperor  and  Van  Swieten 
were  seen  with  anxious  looks  directed  toward  the  window  where 
the  empress  was  standing. 

"  What  is  to  be  done?"  said  Joseph.  "  How  is  she  to  be  awakened 
from  that  fearful  torpor?" 

"We  must  bring  about  some  crisis,"  replied  Van  Swieten, 
tlioughtfully.  "  We  must  awake  both  the  empress  and  the  mother. 
The  one  must  have  work — the  other,  tears.  This  frozen  sea  of 
grief  must  thaw,  or  her  majesty  will  die." 

"  Doctor, "  cried  Joseph,  "  save  her,  I  implore  you.  Do  something 
to  humanize  this  marble  grief." 

"  I  will  try,  your  majesty.  With  your  permission  I  will  assemble 
the  imperial  family  here,  and  we  will  ask  to  be  admitted  to  the 


194  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COUET. 

presence  of  the  empress.  The  Archduchess  Marie  Antoinette  and 
the  Arcliduke  Maximilian  I  shall  not  summon." 

Not  long  after,  the  door  was  once  more  softly  opened,  and  the 
Emperor  Joseph,  followed  hy  his  sisters  and  the  doctor,  entered  the 
empi'ess's  sitting-room. 

Maria  Theresa  was  still  erect  before  the  window,  staring  at  the 
dark  towers  of  the  chapel. 

"Your  majesty,"  said  Joseph,  approaching,  "your  children  are 
here  to  mourn  with  you. " 

"It  is  well,"  replied  Maria  Theresa,  without  stirring  from  her 
position.  "  I  thank  you  all.  But  leave  me,  my  children.  I  woukl 
mourn  alone." 

"But  before  we  go,  will  not  your  majesty  vouchsafe  one  look  of 
kindness?"  entreated  tlie  emperor.  "May  we  not  kiss  your  hand? 
Oh,  my  beloved  mother,  your  living  children,  too,  have  a  right  to 
your  love  !  Do  not  turn  away  so  coldly  from  vis.  Let  your  children 
comfort  their  sad  hearts  with  the  sight  of  your  dear  and  honored 
countenance. " 

There  was  so  much  genuine  feeling  in  Joseph's  voice,  as  he 
uttered  these  words,  that  his  mother  could  not  resist  him.  She 
turned  and  gave  him  her  hand. 

"God  bless  you,  my  son,"  said  slie,  "for  your  loving  words. 
They  fall  like  balsam  upon  my  sore  and  wounded  heart.  God  bless 
you  all,  my  children,  who  have  come  hither  to  comfort  your  poor, 
sorrowing  mother. " 

The  archduchesses  flocked,  w^eeping  to  her  side,  and  smiled 
through  their  tears,  as  they  met  her  glance  of  love.  But  suddenly 
she  started,  and  looked  searcliingly  around  the  room. 

"Where  are  my  little  ones?"  said  she  anxiously. 

No  one  spoke,  but  the  group  all  tiirned  their  eyes  upon  Van 
Swieten,  whose  presence,  until  now,  had  been  unobserved  by  the 
einpress. 

Like  an  angry  lioness,  she  sprang  forward  to  the  threshold,  and 
laid  her  liand  upon  Van  Swieten's  shoulder. 

"What  means  your  presence  here,  Van  Swieten?"  cried  she 
loudly.  "  What  fearfvil  message  do  you  bear  me  now  ?  My  children  ! 
my  cliildren  !  where  are  they?" 

"In  their  rooms,  your  majesty,"  replied  Van  Swieten,  seriously. 
"  I  came  hither  expressly  to  apologize  for  their  absence.  It  was  I 
who  prevented  them  from  coming. " 

"Why  so?"  exclaimed  the  empress. 

"Because,  your  majesty,  they  have  never  had  tlie  small-pox ; 
and  contact  with  you  would  b(>  dangerous  for  them.  For  some 
weeks  they  must  absent  themselves  from  your  majesty's  presence." 

"You  are  not  telling  me  the  truth,  Van  Swieten!"  cried  Maria 
Theresa,  hastily.     "  My  children  are  sick,  and  I  must  go  to  them. " 

"Your  majesty  may  banisli  me  forever  from  the  palace,"  said  he, 
"but  as  long  as  I  remain,  you  cannot  approacli  your  children.  It  is 
my  duty  to  shield  them  from  the  infection  which  still  clings  to  your 
majpsty's  person.  Would  you  be  the  probable  cause  of  their 
deaith?" 

The  earnest  tone  witli  wliicli  Van  Swieten  put  this  question  so 
overcame  the  empress,  tiiat  she  raised  both  her  arms,  and  cried  out 
in  a  voice  of  ])ieicing  anguish:  "Ah!  it  is  I  who  caused  Josepha's 
death  ! — I  who  nuudered  my  unhappy  child  !" 


INOCULATION  .  195 

These  words  once  uttered,  the  icy  bonds  that  had  frozen  her  heart 
gave  way,  and  Maria  Theresa  wept. 

"She  is  saved  !"  whispei'ed  Van  Swieten  to  the  emperor.  "Will 
your  majesty  now  request  the  archduchesses  to  retire?  The  empress 
does  not  like  to  be  seen  in  tears  ;  and  this  paroxysm  once  over,  the 
presence  of  her  daughters  will  embarrass  her. " 

The  emperor  communicated  Van  Swieten's  wish,  and  the  prin- 
cesses silently  and  noiselessly  withdrew.  The  empress  was  on  lier 
knees,  while  showers  of  healing  tears  were  refreshing  her  seethed 
heart. 

"Let  us  try  to  induce  her  to  rise,"  whispered  Van  Swieten. 
"This  hour,  if  it  please  God,  may  prove  a  signal  blessing  to  all 
Austria. " 

The  emperor  approached,  and  tenderly  strove  to  lift  his  mother, 
while  he  lavished  words  of  love  and  comfort  upon  her.  She  allowed 
him  to  lead  her  to  a  divan,  where  gradually  the  tempest  of  her  grief 
gave  place  to  deep-drawn  sighs,  and,  finall3^  to  peace.  The  crisis, 
however,  was  long  and  terrible,  for  the  affections  of  Maria  Theresa 
were  as  strong  as  her  will ;  and  fierce  had  been  the  conflict  between 
the  two. 

For  some  time  a  deep  silence  reigned  throughout  the  room. 
Finally,  the  empress  raised  her  eyes  and  said,  "You  will  speak  the 
truth,  both  of  you,  will  you  not?" 

"We  will,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  emperor  and  Van  Swieten. 

"Then,  Joseph,  say^are  my  children  well  and  safe?" 

"They  are,  my  dearest  mother,  and  but  for  the  doctor's  prohibi- 
tion, both  would  have  accompanied  us  thither." 

Maria  Theresa  tlien  turned  to  the  i:)hj'sician.  "  Van  Swieten, "  said 
she,  "you,  too,  must  swear  to  speak  the  truth.  I  have  something 
to  ask  of  you  also. " 

"I  swear,  your  majesty,"  replied  Van  Swieten. 

"Then  say  if  I  am  the  cause  of  my  daughter's  death.  Do  not 
answer  me  at  once.  Take  time  for  reflection,  and,  as  Almighty 
God  hears  us,  answer  me  conscientiously. " 

There  was  a  pause.  Nothing  was  heard  save  the  heavy  breathing 
of  the  empress,  and  the  ticking  of  the  golden  clock  that  stood  upon 
the  mantel.  Maria  Theresa  sat  with  her  liead  bowed  down  upon  her 
hands ;  before  her  stood  Joseph,  his  pale  and  noble  face  turned 
toward  tlie  pliysician,  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  him  with  an  expres- 
sion of  deepest  entreaty.  Van  Swieten  saw  the  look,  and  answered 
it  by  a  scarcely  jjerceptible  motion  of  his  head. 

"  Now,  speak.  Van  Swieten, "  said  the  empress,  raising  her  head, 
and  looking  him  full  in  the  face.  "Was  Josepha's  visit  to  the 
chapel- vault  the  cause  of  her  death?" 

"No,  your  majesty,"  said  the  physician  gravely.  "In  this  sense 
you  were  not  guilty  of  her  highness's  death  ;  for  the  body,  in  small- 
pox, is  infected  long  before  it  shows  itself  on  the  surface.  Had  her 
highness  received  the  infection  in  the  cry^jts  of  the  chapel,  she 
would  be  still  living.  Her  ten-or  and  presentiment  of  death  were 
merely  symptoms  of  the  disease." 

Tlie  empress  reached  out  both  her  hands  to  Van  Swieten,  and 
said:  "Thank  you,  my  friend.  You  surely  would  not  deceive  me 
with  false  comfort ;  I  can,  therefore,  even  in  the  face  of  this  great 
sorrow,  find  courage  to  live  and  do  my  duty.  I  may  weep  for  my 
lost  child,  but  while  weeping  I  may  feel  that  Heaven's  will,  and  not 


196  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

my  guilt,  compassed  her  death.  Thank  you,  my  dear  son,  for  your 
sympathy  and  tenderness.  You  will  never  know  what  comfort  your 
love  has  been  to  me  this  day. " 

So  saying,  she  drew  the  emperor  close  to  her,  and  putting  both 
her  arms  around  his  neck,  kissed  him  tenderly. 

"Van  Svvieten, "  said  she,  then,  "what  do  you  mean  by  saying 
that  '  in  this  sense'  I  was  not  guilty  of  Josepha's  death. " 

"I  think,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  emperor,  "that  I  can  ex- 
plain those  words.  He  means  to  say  that  had  you  yielded  to  his 
frequent  petitions  to  make  use  of  inoculation  as  a  safeguard  against 
the  violence  of  the  small-pox,  our  dear  Josepha  might  have  survived 
her  attack.     Is  it  not  so.  Van  Swieten?" 

"  It  is,  your  majesty.  If  the  empress  would  consent  to  allow  the 
introduction  in  Austria  of  inoculation  for  the  small-pox,  she  would 
not  only  shield  her  own  family  from  danger,  but  would  confer  a 
great  lilessing  on  her  subjects. " 

"Indeed,  Van  Swieten,"  replied  the  empress,  after  a  pause, 
"what  you  propose  seems  sinful  to  me.  Besides,  I  have  heard  that 
many  who  were  inoculated  for  small-pox  have  died  of  its  effects. 
But  for  this,  they  might  have  lived  for  many  years.  How  can  I 
reconcile  it  to  my  conscience  to  assume  such  an  awful  responsibility  V" 

"But,"  urged  Van  Swieten,  "thousands  have  been  rescued,  wliere 
two  or  three  have  perished.  I  do  not  say  that  the  remedy  is  infalli- 
ble ;  but  I  can  safely  say  that  out  of  one  hundi-ed  cases,  ninety,  by 
its  use,  are  rendered  innoxious.  Oh,  your  majesty  !  when  you  re- 
member that  within  ten  years  five  members  of  your  family  have 
been  victims  to  this  terrific  scourge — when  you  remember  how  for 
weeks  Austria  was  in  extremest  sorrow  while  your  majesty  lay  so 
ill,  how  can  you  refuse  such  a  boon  for  yourself  and  your  people?" 

"It  is  hard  for  me  to  refuse  any  thing  to  the  one  whose  skilful 
hand  restored  me  to  life, "  replied  the  empress,  while  she  reached 
her  hand  to  Van  Swieten. 

"  My  dear,  dear  mother  !"  exclaimed  Joseph,  "  do  not  refuse  him  ! 
He  asks  you  to  save  the  lives  of  thousands.  Think  liow  different 
life  would  have  been  for  me  had  my  Isabella  lived  !  Think  of  my 
sisters — think  of  Antoinette  and  Maximilian,  who  long  to  be  with 
you  and  cannot. " 

"  D(ictor, "  said  the  empress,  "  if  my  children  were  inoculated, 
how  long  woTild  it  be  before  I  could  see  tliem?" 

"  lu  two  liours,  your  majesty  ;  for  in  that  time  the  poison  would 
have  permeated  their  systems. " 

By  this  time  the  empress  had  resumed  her  habit  of  walking  to 
and  fro  when  she  was  debating  any  thing  in  her  mind.  She  went 
oi\  for  some  time,  wliile  Van  Swieten  and  the  emperor  followed  her 
movements  with  anxious  looks. 

Finally  she  si)oke.  "Well,  my  son,"  said  she,  coming  close  to 
Josepli,  and  smiling  fondly  upon  him,  "I  yield  to  you  as  co-regent 
of  Austria.  You,  too,  have  some  right  to  speak  in  this  matter,  and 
your  wishes  sliall  decide  mine.  To  you,  also.  Van  Swieten,  I  yield 
in  gratitude  for  all  that  you  have  done  for  me  and  mine.  Let 
Au.-<tria  profit  by  this  new  di.scovery,  and  may  it  prove  a  blessing  to 
us  all  !     Are  you  satisfied,  Josei)h?" 

"More  than  satisfied,"  exclaimed  he,  kissing  his  mother's  hand. 

"Now,  Van  Swieten, "  continued  Maria  Theresa,  "hasten  to  in- 
oculate my  children.     I  long  to  fold  them  to  my  poor  acliing  heart. 


AN  ADVENTURE.  197 

Itemember,  you  have  promised  that  I  shall  see  them  in  two 
liours  !" 

"In  two  hours  they  shall  be  here,  your  majesty,"  said  Van 
Swieten,  as  he  hurried  away. 

"  Stop  a  moment, "  cried  Maria  Theresa.  "  As  you  have  been  the 
instigator  of  this  thing,  upon  your  shoulders  shall  fall  the  work  that 
must  arise  *rom  it.  I  exact  of  you,  therefore,  to  superintend  the 
inoculation  of  my  subjects,  and  your  pay  as  chief  medical  inspector 
shall  be  five  thousand  florins.  I  also  give  my  palace  at  Hetzendorf 
as  a  model  hospital  for  the  reception  of  the  children  of  fifty  families, 
who  shall  there  be  inoculated  and  cared  for  at  my  expense.  This 
is  the  monument  I  shall  erect  to  my  beloved  Josepha  ;  and  when  the 
little  ones  who  are  rescued  from  death  thank  God  for  their  recovery, 
they  will  pray  for  my  poor  child's  departed  soul.  Does  this  please 
you,  my  son?" 

The  emperor  did  not  answer — his  heart  was  too  full  for  speech. 
Tlie  empress  saw  his  agitation,  and  opening  her  arms  to  clasp  liim 
in  her  embrace,  she  faltered  out,  "Come,  dear  child,  and  together 
let  us  mourn  for  our  beloved  dead. "  * 


CHAPTER    XLVII. 

AN  ADVENTURE. 

It  was  a  lovely  day  in  June — one  of  those  glorious  days  when 
field  and  wood  are  like  a  lofty  cathedral,  where  the  birds  are  the 
choir,  and  the  wind  stirring  the  censers  of  the  forest  perfume,  is 
the  organ;  while  man,  in  ecstasy  with  nature's  beauty,  glances 
enraptured  from  heaven  to  earth — from  earth  again  to  heaven. 

But  pleasantest  of  all  on  such  a  day  are  the  reveries  that  come 
and  go  over  the  heart,  under  tlie  shade  of  a  noble  oak  that  lifts  its 
crowned  head  to  the  clouds,  while  birds  twitter  love-songs  among 
its  branches,  and  lovers  lie  dreaming  on  the  green  sward  below. 

So  thought  a  yovmg  man  as  he  reclined  under  the  shadow  of  a 
tall  beech- tree  that  skirted  the  green  border  of  a  meadow,  some- 
where near  the  woods  around  Schcmbrunn.  He  had  fa.steued  his 
horse  to  a  tree  not  far  off,  and  while  the  steed  cropped  the  fresh 
grass,  its  owner  revelled  in  the  luxuiy  of  sylvan  solitude.  With 
an  expression  of  quiet  enjoyment  he  glanced  now  upon  the  soft, 
green  meadow,  now  at  the  dim,  shady  woods,  and  then  at  the  blue 
and  silver  sky  that  parted  him  from  heaven. 

'"  Oil !  how  delightful  it  is,  "  thought  he,  "  to  drop  the  shackles  of 
royalty,  and  to  be  a  man  !  Oh,  beautiful  sky,  with  liverj^  of  'kaiser 
blue, '  change  thy  hue,  and  hide  me  in  a  dark  cloud  that  I  may  be 
safe  from  the  homage  of  courtiers  and  sycophants  !  If  they  knew 
that  I  was  here,  how  soon  would  they  pursue  and  imprison  me  again 
in  my  gilded  cage  of  imperial  grandeur  !" 

Just  then,  in  the  distance,  was  heard  the  sound  of  a  hunting- 

*  The  institution  founded  on  that  day  by  the  empress,  went  very  soon  into  opera- 
tion. Every  spring  the  children  of  fifty  families  among  the  nobles  and  gentry  were 
received  at  t!ie  hospital  of  Hetzendorf.  The  empress  was  accustomed  ro  visit  tho 
institution  frequently;  and  at  the  end  of  each  season,  she  gave  its  little  inmates  a 
splendid  ball,  wliich  was  always  attended  by  herself  and  her  daughters.  The  fes- 
tivities closed  with  concerts,  lotteries,  and  a  present  to  eai-h  cliild.  Caroline  Pichler, 
"Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  p.  63.    Coxe,  "History  of  the  House  of  Austria,"  vol.  v.  p.  188. 


198  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

horn,  and  the  emperor's  soliloquy  was  cut  short.  An  expression  of 
annoyance  was  visible  on  his  features,  as  he  listened.  But  instead 
of  advancing,  the  sounds  receded  until  finally  they  were  lost  in  the 
sighing  of  the  wind  among  the  forest-trees. 

"Thej'have  passed  by, "  exclaimed  he  joyfully.  "This  day  is 
mine,  and  I  am  free.  What  a  charm  is  in  that  vv^ord  freedom !  I 
feel  it  now  ;  no  emperor  am  I,  but  a  man,  to  whom  the  animals  will 
turn  their  backs,  without  suspecting  tliat  they  refuse  to  look  upon 
an  anointed  sovereign.  But  hark!  wliat  is  that?  A  doe — a  timid 
doe — perhaps  an  enchanted  princess  who  can  resume  her  shape  at 
the  bidding  of  a  prince  only.  Here  am  I,  sweet  princess — ready,  as 
soon  as  you  become  a  woman,  to  leap  into  your  arms. " 

The  emperor  grasped  his  fowling-iiiece  that  was  leaning  against 
the  beech.  But  the  doe  caught  the  sound,  raised  her  graceful  head, 
and  her  mild  eye  sought  the  enemy  that  threatened  her.  She  saw 
him,  and  as  he  raised  the  gun  to  take  aim,  she  cleared  the  road  with 
one  wild  bound,  and  in  a  few  moments  was  lost  in  a  thicket. 

The  emperor  leaped  on  his  horse,  exclaiming,  "I  must  catch  my 
enchanted  princess  ;"  and  giving  liis  steed  tlie  rein,  away  they  flew 
on  the  track  of  the  doe ;  away  they  flew  over  fallen  trunks  and 
through  brier  and  copse,  until  the  panting  steed  would  have  re- 
coiled before  a  wide  hedge — but  the  emperor  cried,  "Over  it!  over 
it!  The  princess  is  beyond!"  and  the  foaming  liorse  gathered  up 
his  forelegs  for  the  lea]).  He  made  a  spring,  l)ut  missed,  and  with 
a  loud  crash,  horse  and  rider  fell  into  the  ditcli  on  the  farther  side 
of  the  hedg'e. 

The  emperor  fell  under  the  horse,  who,  in  its  efforts  to  rise,  in~ 
flicted  dreadful  suffering  upon  its  master.  He  felt  that  his  senses 
were  leaving  him,  and  thought  that  he  was  being  crushed  to  death. 
The  load  upon  his  breast  was  insufferable,  and  in  his  ears  there 
came  a  sound  like  the  roaring  of  the  ocean.  He  uttered  one  cry  for 
help,  commended  liimself  to  Heaven,  and  fainted. 

How  long  he  lay  there,  he  never  knew.  When  he  opened  his 
weary  eyes  again,  he  lay  on  the  sward  near  the  hedge,  with  his  head 
resting  upon  the  lap  of  a  beautiful  girl,  who  was  contemplating  him 
witli  looks  of  tenderest  pity.  By  her  side  knelt  another  young  girl, 
who  was  bathing  his  temples  with  water. 

"Look,  Marianne,"  exclaimed  she  joyfully,  " he  begins  to  move. 
Oh,  dear  sister,  we  have  saved  his  life." 

"  Still,  Kathi, "  whispered  the  other.  "  He  has  not  yet  his  senses. 
He  looks  as  if  he  were  dreaming  of  angels.     But  he  will  soon  awake. " 

"I  don't  wonder  that  he  dreams  of  angels,  Marianne,  when  he 
looks  at  you, "  said  Kathi,  contemplating  her  beautiful  sister.  "  But 
now  that  he  is  safe,  1  will  go  and  look  after  his  horse.  Poor  animal ! 
he  trembles  yet  with  fright,  and  J  think  he  has  lamed  his  leg.  I 
will  lead  him  to  the  spring  where  he  can  drink  and  cool  his  foot, 
i'ou  know  the  curate  says  that  water  is  a  great  doctor  for  man  and 
beast. " 

So  saying  she  took  up  the  bridle,  and  coaxing  the  horse  gently, 
he  follov.-ed  iier,  although  lie  sluiddered  with  the  pain  of  his  limb. 

She  (Iisa]ii)eared  behind  a  little  grove  of  trees,  while  her  sister 
conteni])lated  their  handsome  jiatient.  He  lay  perfectly  quiet,  his 
eyes  open,  but  feeling  too  weary  for  speech.  He  felt  uncertain 
whether  he  waked  or  dreamed,  nor  did  he  care;  for  the  jiresent 
moment  was  unutterably  sweet,     llis  pain  was  slight,  and  with  his 


AN   ADVENTURE.  199 

head  pillowed  upon  the  lap  of  the  lovely  girl  whose  face  was  beauti- 
ful as  that  of  Eve  in  the  groves  of  Eden,  the  emperor  gazed  on  in 
rapture. 

Marianne  became  gradually  aware  that  his  glances  spoke  admira- 
tion, for  her  color  slowly  deepened,  until  it  glowed  like  the  petals 
of  a  newly -opened  rose.'  The  emperor  smiled  as  he  watched  her 
blushes.     ••  Do  angels  then  blush  V"  asked  he  softly. 

"  He  still  dreams, "  said  Marianne,  sliaking  her  head.  "  I  thought 
just  now  that  his  senses  were  returning. " 

"No,  child,"  replied  Joseph,  "I  do  not  dream.  I  see  before  me 
the  loveliest  vison  that  ever  blessed  the  eyes  of  man,  or  else— I  have 
overtaken  the  enchanted  princess.  Oh,  princess  !  it  was  cniel  of  you 
to  lure  one  over  that  treacherous  hedge  !" 

Marianne  looked  alarmed.  "Poor,  poor  young  man  !"  murmured 
she  in  a  low  voice,  "he  is  delirious.  I  must  moisten  his  head 
again. " 

She  extended  her  hand  to  the  little  pail  that  held  the  water,  but 
Joseph  caught  it,  and  pi-essed  it  warmly  to  his  lips. 

Marianne  blushed  anew,  with  painful  embarrassment,  and  sought 
to  withdraw  her  hand. 

The  emperor  would  not  yield  it.  "Let  me  kiss  the  hand  of  the 
angel  that  has  rescued  me  from  death,"  said  he.  "For  'tis  you,  is 
it  not,  who  saved  my  life'?" 

"My  sister  and  I,  sir,  were  coming  through  the  wood, "  replied 
Marianne,  "  when  we  saw  your  horse  galloping  directly  toward  the 
hedge.  We  knew  what  must  happen,  and  ran  with  all  our  might 
toward  you,  but  before  we  reached  you,  the  horse  had  made  the 
leap.     Oh,  I  shudder  when  1  think  of  it !" 

And  her  face  grew  white  again,  while  her  lustrous  eyes  were 
dimmed  with  tears. 

"Goon,  goon,  my — .  No,  I  will  not  call  you  princess  lest  you 
should  think  me  delirious.  I  am  not  delirious,  beautiful  Marianne  ! 
but  I  dream,  I  dreaui  of  mj^  boyhood  and  almost  believe  that  I  have 
tome  upon  enchanted  ground.  Your  sweet  voice — your  lovely  face 
—this  delicious  wood — it  all  seems  like  fairy-land  !  But  speak  on  ; 
whei'e  did  you  find  me?" 

"  Under  the  horse,  sir  ;  and  the  first  thing  we  did  was  to  free  you 
from  its  weight.  We  took  the  rein,  and,  after  some  efforts,  we  got 
him  to  his  feet.     Kathi  led  him  away,  and  I — I — " 

"You,  Marianne  !  tell  me — what  did  you  do?" 

"  I, "  said  she,  looking  down — "  I  bore  you  as  well  as  I  was  able  to 
this  spot.  I  do  not  know  how  I  did  it,  but  fright  gives  one  very 
great  strength." 

"Go  on,  go  on  !" 

"  We  had  been  gathering  mushrooms  in  the  woods,  when  we  saw 
you.  As  soon  as  Kathi  had  tied  the  horse,  she  ran  for  her  little  pail, 
poured  out  the  mushrooms,  and  filling  it  with  water,  we  bathed 
your  head  until  you  revived.  This,  sir,  is  the  whole  history,  and 
now  that  you  have  recovered,  I  will  help  you  to  rise." 

"Not  yet,  not  yet,  enchantress.  I  cannot  raise  my  head  from  its 
delicious  pillow.  Let  me  dream  for  a  few  moments  longer.  Fairy- 
land is  almost  like  heaven." 

Marianne  said  no  more,  but  her  eyes  sought  the  ground,  and  her 
face  grew  scarlet.  The  emperor  still  gazed  upon  her  wonderful 
beauty,  and  thought  that  nothing  he  had  ever  seen  in  gilded  halls 

14 


200  JOSEPH   II.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

could  approach  this  i^easant-girl,  whose  red  dress  and  black  bodice 
were  more  dazzling  to  his  eyes  than  the  laces  and  diamonds  of  all 
Vienna  assembled. 

"Where,"  asked  he,  observing  that  her  snowy  shoulders  were 
bare,  "where  did  you  get  a  kerchief  to  bathe  my  head?" 

Marianne  started  and  laid  her  hands  upon  her  neck.  "Good 
Heaven  !"  murmured  she  to  herself  ;  "  it  was  the  kerchief  from  my 
own  bosom  !"  Unconsciously  she  reached  her  hand  to  take  it  from 
the  pail. 

"  What !"  said  Joseph,  stopping  her  ;  "would  you  wear  that  drip- 
ping kerchief?  No,  no  !  let  the  sky,  the  birds,  and  the  wood-nymphs 
look  at  those  graceful  shoulders  ;  and  if  /  may  not  look,  I  will  shut 
my  e5'es. " 

"  Oh  !  do  not  shut  your  eyes ;  they  are  blue  as  the  sky  itself  !" 
replied  Marianne.  But  as  she  spoke  she  drew  forward  the  long 
braids  that  trailed  behind  her  on  the  ground,  and  quickly  untwist- 
ing them,  her  hair  fell  in  showers  around  her  neck  and  shoulders, 
so  that  they  were  effectually  concealed . 

"  You  are  right, "  said  the  emperor.  "Your  hair  is  as  beautiful 
as  the  rest  of  your  person.  It  surpasses  the  sables  of  a  Russian 
princess.  You  know  perfectly  well  how  to  adorn  yourself,  you  be- 
witching child." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  adorn  myself,  sir, "  said  Marianne. 

"Why,  then,  did  you  cover  yourself  with  that  superb  mantle?" 

"  Because,  sir,  I — I  was  cold. " 

"Are  you  so  ic3%  then,  that  you  freeze  in  midsummer?" 

She  said  nothing,  but  bent  her  head  in  confusion.  Luckily,  at 
that  moment,  Kathi  came  in  sight  wuth  the  horse. 

"Now,  sir,"  exclaimed  Marianne,  "you  can  rise,  can  you  not?" 

"Not  unless  you  help  me,  for  my  head  is  yet  very  light." 

"  Well,  sir,  if  that  be  so,  then  stay  where  you  are,  and  try  to 
sleep,  while  I  pray  to  the  blessed  Virgin  to  protect  you." 

Meanwhile  Kathi  came  forward,  and,  when  she  saw  the  emperor, 
nodded  her  head. 

"  God  be  praised,  sir, "  cried  she,  "  you  have  your  senses  once 
more  !  You  have  gotten  off  cheaply  with  nothing  but  a  black  eye. 
But,  bless  me !  how  quiet  you  are,  Marianne !  Who  would  think, 
that  while  the  gentleman  was  out  of  his  senses,  you  were  crying  as 
if  he  had  been  your  sweetheart !  Why,  sir,  her  tears  fell  upon  your 
face  and  waked  you." 

"Pardon  me,"  whispered  Marianne,  "I  wiped  them  away  with 
the  kerchief. " 

"  Why  did  you  deprive  me  of  tliose  sweet  tears?"  whispered  the 
emperor.     But  Kathi  was  talking  all  the  while. 

"  Now, "  continued  she,  "  try  to  get  up.  Put  one  arm  around  me, 
and  the  other  around  Marianne,  and  we  will  set  you  upon  your  legs, 
to  find  out  whether  thej^  are  sound.     Come — one,  two,  three  ;  now  !" 

Witli  tlie  help  of  the  strong  peasant-girl,  the  emperor  arose  and 
stood  erect.  But  he  comiilained  of  dizziness,  and  would  have 
Marianne  to  sustain  him. 

She  approaclicd  with  a  smile,  while  he,  drawing  her  gently  to 
his  side,  looked  into  Iier  eyes.  The  poor  girl  trembled,  she  knew 
not  why,  for  assuredly  she  was  not  afraid. 

Kathi,  who  had  gone  back  for  the  horse,  now  came  up,  leading 
him  to  his  master.     "  Now, "  said  she,  "  we  are  all  ready  to  go.     Your 


AN  ADVENTURE.  201 

horse  is  a  little  lame,  and  not  yet  able  to  bear  you.     Whither  shall 
we  lead  you,  sir?    Where  is  your  home?" 

"My  home!"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  with  troubled  mien.  "I 
had  forgotten  that  I  had  a  home. "  This  question  had  awakened 
him  from  his  idyl. 

"Where  is  my  home?"  echoed  he  sadly.  "It  is  in  Vienna.  Can 
you  put  me  on  the  road  thither?" 

"  That  can  we,  sir ;  but  it  is  a  long  way  for  such  a  gentleman  as 
you  to  travel  on  foot. " 

"  Let  us  go,  then,  to  the  highway,  -and  perhaps  I  may  there  find 
some  conveyance. " 

"Well,  then,"  cried  the  gleeful  Kathi,  "forward,  march  !" 

"Not  yet,  Kathi.  Not  until  I  have  thanked  you  for  the  great 
service  you  have  rendered  me.  Let  me  give  you  some  testimony  of 
my  gratitude.  Before  we  part,  let  me  gratify  some  wish  of  yours. 
Speak  first,  Kathi." 

"H'm,  "said  Kathi,  "I  have  many  wishes.  It  is  not  so  easy  to 
say  what  I  want. " 

"Well,  take  time,  and  think  for  a  moment,  child." 

Kathi  looked  as  if  she  were  making  a  bold  resolve. 

"That  ring  upon  your  finger — it  is  the  prettiest  thing  I  ever  saw. 
Will  you  give  it  to  me?" 

"Kathi!"  exclaimed  Marianne,  "how  can  you  ask  such  a 
thing?" 

"Why  not?"  returned  Kathi,  reddening;  "did  he  not  tell  me  to 
say  what  I  wanted?" 

"  Yes, "  said  Marianne  in  a  low  voice,  "  but  it  may  be  a  gift — 
perhaps  it  is  from  his  sweetheart !" 

"  No,  Marianne, "  replied  the  emperor  sadly,  "  I  have  no  sweet- 
heart. No  one  cares  whether  I  give  or  keep  the  ring.  Take  it, 
Kathi." 

Kathi  held  out  her  hand,  and  when  it  had  been  placed  upon 
her  finger  she  turned  it  around  to  see  it  glisten,  and  laughed  for 

joy- 

"And  you,  Marianne,"  said  Joseph,  changing  his  tone  as  he 
addressed  the  beautiful  creature  who  stood  at  his  side,  "  tell  me  your 
wish.  Let  it  be  something  hard  to  perform,  for  then  I  shall  be  all 
the  liappier  to  grant  it. " 

But  Marianne  spoke  not  a  word. 

"Why,  Marianne,"  cried  Kathi  impatiently,  "do  you  not  see 
that  he  is  a  rich  and  great  lord,  who  will  give  you  any  thing  you 
ask?    W^hy  do  you  stand  so  dumb?" 

"  Come,  dear  Marianne, "  whispered  the  emperor,  "  have  you  no 
wish  that  I  can  gratify?" 

"  Yes,  sir, "  cried  Marianne,  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible. 

"Speak  it,  then,  sweet  one,  and  it  shall  be  granted." 

"  Then,  sir, "  said  Marianne,  her  cheeks  glowing,  though  her  eyes 
were  still  cast  down,  "my  father's  house  is  hard  by.  Come  and 
rest  awhile  under  his  roof,  and  let  me  give  you  a  glass  of  milk,  and 
to  your  horse  some  fresh  hay. " 

The  emperor  seemed  to  grow  veiy  weak  while  Marianne  spoke, 
for  he  clung  to  her  as  though  he  had  been  afraid  to  fall. 

"Yes,  Marianne,"  replied  he,  "and  God  bless  you  for  the  kind 
suggestion  !  Let  me  for  once  forget  the  world  and  imagine  that  I, 
too,  am  a  peasant,  with  no  thought  of  earth  beyond  these  enchanted 


202  JOSEPH  II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

woods.     Take  me  to  the  cottage  where  your  father  lives,  and  let  me 
eat  of  his  bread.     I  am  hungry. " 

And  the  emperor,  witli  his  strange  suite,  set  off  for  the  cottage 
of  Conrad  the  peasant. 


CHAPTER    XLVIII. 

THE  JUDGMENT  OF  SOLOMON, 

Old  Conrad  stood  in  his  doorway,  shading  his  old  eyes  from  the 
sunbeams,  while  he  looked  anxiously  down  the  road  that  led  to  the 
village.  It  was  noonday,  and  yet  the  heartli  of  the  kitchen  was 
empty  and  cold.  No  kettle  was  on  the  hob,  no  platter  upon  the 
table.  And  yet  his  daughters  had  started  early  for  the  woods,  and 
surely  they  must  have  gatliered  their  mushrooms  hours  ago. 

The  old  peasant  began  to  be  anxious.  If  it  had  been  Kathi  alone, 
it  would  have  been  easy  enough  to  guess  at  the  delay.  She  was 
gossiping  with  Valentine,  and  forgetting  that  she  had  father  or 
sister,  home  or  dinner.  But  Marianne  was  along,  and  she  never 
flirted  or  loitered.  What  could  be  the  matter?  But— what  was  that 
coming  up  the  road?  Marianne  !  Yes,  truly,  Marianne  with  a  fine 
lord  at  her  side,  who  seemed  closer  to  her  than  propriety  seemed  to 
allow. 

"Gracious  Heaven!"  thought  the  old  man,  "  what  has  come  over 
my  bashful  Marianne?  What  would  the  villagers  say  if  they  should 
see  her  now?  And  what  comes  behind?  Kathi,  with  a  horse.  Are 
the  maidens  bewitched?" 

They  came  nearer;  and  now  Kathi,  from  the  top  of  her  voice, 
bade  him  good-day. 

"Are  we  not  line,  father?"  cried  she,  Avith  a  loud  laugh.  But 
Marianne,  coming  forward  with  the  emperor,  bent  gracefully  be- 
fore her  old  father. 

"See,  dear  father,"  said  she  in  her  soft,  musical  tones,  "we  bring 
you  a  guest  who  to-day  will  share  our  liumble  dinner  with  us." 

"A  guest  whose  life  has  been  saved  by  your  daughters,"  added 
Joseph,  extending  his  hand. 

"And  a  very  rich  somebody  he  must  be,  father,"  cried  Kathi, 
"for  see  how  he  has  paid  us  for  our  help.  Look  at  this  brave  ring, 
how  it  glistens  !  It  is  mine  ;  and  Marianne  might  have  had  as  much 
if  she  had  chosen.  But  wliat  do  you  think  she  asked  him? — to  come 
home  and  get  a  glass  of  milk  !" 

"That  was  well  done  of  my  Marianne,"  said  the  father,  proudly. 
"  It  would  have  been  a  pity  not  to  let  me  see  the  brave  gentleman, 
if  indeed  you  have  been  so  happy  as  to  save  his  life.  Come  in,  my 
lord,  come  in.     You  are  welcome.    What  we  have  we  give  cordiallj". " 

"And  therefore  what  you  give  will  be  gratefully  received,"  re- 
plied the  emperor,  entering  and  seating  himself. 

"Now,  sir,"  said  Marianne,  "I  will  go  and  prepare  the  dinner. " 
So  saying,  she  passed  into  the  cottage  kitchen. 

"That  is  a  beautiful  maiden,"  said  Joseph,  looking  wistfuUy 
after  the  graceful  figure  as  it  disappeared. 

"  They  ai-e  my  heart's  joy,  both  of  them, "  replied  Conrad.  "  They 
are  brisk  as  fawns,  and  industrious  as  bees.  And  yet  I  am  often  sad 
jia  I  look  at  them. " 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  SOLOMON.  203 

"Why  so?" 

"  Because  I  am  old  and  poor.  I  have  nothing  to  leave  them,  and 
when  I  die,  they  will  have  to  go  to  service.  That  frets  me.  It  is 
because  I  love  the  maidens  so  dearly  that  I  am  troubled  about  them. " 

"Let  their  poverty  trouble  you  no  longer,  my  friend.  I  will  pro- 
vide for  them.  I  have  it  in  my  power  to  make  them  both  comfort- 
able, and  that  they  shall  be,  I  promise  you. " 

The  old  man  spoke  his  thanks,  and  presently  came  Marianne  to 
announce  the  dinner.  It  was  served  in  an  arbor  covered  with 
honeysuckles  and  red  beans,  and  the  emperor  thought  that  he  had 
never  had  a  better  dinner  in  his  imperial  })alace.  The  shackles  of 
his  greatness  had  fallen  from  him,  and  he  drank  deeply  of  the 
present  hour,  without  a  thought  for  the  morrow.  Marianne  was  at 
his  side,  and  as  lie  looked  into  the  lustrous  depths  of  her  dark  eyes, 
he  wished  himself  a  peasant  that  he  might  look  into  them  forever. 

Meanwhile  Kathi  and  her  father  walked  together  in  the  garden. 
They  were  both  examining  the  diamond  ring,  and  the  hearts  of  both 
were  fdled  with  ambitious  thoughts  and  hopes. 

"He  mvist  be  very  rich,"  said  Kathi,  in  a  low  voice.  "He  has 
fallen  in  love  with  Marianne,  'tis  plain,  and  she  has  only  to  ask  and 
have  any  thing  she  likes.  Look,  father,  he  is  kissing  her !  But 
don't  let  them  see  you.  The  more  he  loves  her,  the  more  he  will 
give  us.  But  you  must  speak  to  Marianne,  father.  She  is  as  silly 
as  a  sheep,  and  doesn't  care  whether  we  are  poor  or  rich.  Call  her 
here,  and  tell  her  that  she  nmst  ask  for  a  great  sum  of  money — 
enough  for  us  to  buy  a  fine  farm.  Then  Valentine  will  marry  me 
at  once,  and  I  shall  be  able  to  give  a  wedding-dress  to  all  the  other 
maidens  in  the  village.  " 

"  But  suppose  that  the  loi"d  should  want  Marianne?"  asked  Conrad, 
turning  pale. 

Kathi  still  held  up  her  ring,  and  she  turned  toward  the  sun  until 
it  seemed  to  be  in  a  blaze.  "  Look,  father,  "  said  she,  in  a  low  tone, 
"look." 

The  eyes  of  the  old  man  were  fixed  upon  the  jewel ;  and  strange 
hopes,  with  which,  until  now,  he  had  been  unacquainted,  stirred 
his  heart.  Tlie  serpent  had  found  its  way  into  Eden,  and  it  spoke 
to  both  in  the  glitter  of  this  unhappy  ring. 

"Father,"  said  Kathi,  at  length,  "if  Marianne  had  such  a  ring  as 
this  on  her  finger  she  would  find  many  hundred  wooers  who  would 
forgive  her  for  having  had  one  before  them. " 

"Silence!"  cried  the  old  man.  "If  your  mother  were  alive  to 
hear  these  guilty  words,  she  would  think  that  you  were  no  longer 
innocent  yourself.  How  I  wish  she  were  here  in  this  trying  hour  ! 
But  since  you  have  no  parent  but  me,  I  must  protect  you  from 
shame." 

With  these  words  the  old  man  walked  resolutely  to  the  arbor, 
followed  by  Kathi,  who  implored  him  not  to  ruin  their  fortunes. 

"  My  lord, "  said  Conrad,  "  the  day  wanes.  If  you  intend  to  reach 
Vienna  to  night,  you  have  no  time  to  lose. " 

"Alas!"  thought  Joseph,  "my  dream  is  over.  You  are  right," 
said  he  to  the  peasant,  "  unless  you  will  shelter  me  to-night. " 

"I  have  but  one  bed  in  my  house,  sir,"  replied  Conrad,  "and  that 
is  in  the  little  room  of  my  daughters. " 

"Then  let  me  sleep  there,  "said  Joseph,  with  the  arrogance  of 
one  accustomed  to  command. 


304  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Oh!"  faltered  Marianne,  springing  to  her  father's  side,  as 
though  she  would  seek  protection  from  tliese  ensnaring  words. 

But  Kathi  shook  her  sister's  arm,  and  surveying  her  blushing 
face,  exclaimed  with  a  loud  laugh,  "  You  are  a  fool.  What  harm 
can  it  do  us,  if  the  gentleman  sleeps  in  our  room?  We  can  make 
ourselves  a  bed  of  hay  on  the  floor,  and  give  him  the  bedstead.  No 
one  will  ever  think  any  the  less  of  us." 

"I  think  so,  too,"  said  Joseph,  who  was  now  resolved  to  see  of 
what  stuff  the  peasant  was  made.  "Do  not  hesitate  so.  Let  me 
sleep  in  your  daughters'  room,  and  I  will  give  you  a  handful  of  gold 
for  my  lodging. " 

Kathi  gave  a  cry  of  delight,  and  going  close  to  her  father,  she 
whispered,  "  Father,  you  will  not  refuse !  Think— a  handful  of 
gold  !  We  will  be  the  richest  farmers  in  the  village !  There  are 
two  of  us — there  can  be  no  danger. " 

"Well!"  asked  Joseph,  impatiently,  "have  you  decided?  Did 
you  not  tell  me  that  you  were  poor?  and  is  this  not  an  opportunity 
I  offer  you  to  enrich  your  daughters?" 

"Sir,"  replied  the  old  man,  solemnly,  "I  do  not  know  whether 
this  opportunity  may  not  be  for  evil,  instead  of  good.  I  am  a  poor 
and  simple  farmer,  and  cannot  decide  for  myself  whether  the  mere 
fact  of  your  sleeping  in  the  same  room  with  iny  daughters  is  right  or 
not.     Our  curate  is  a  very  holy  man  ;  I  will  apply  to  him  for  advice. " 

"Very  well,"  said  Joseph,  "go  and  fetch  him,  he  sliall  decide." 

Old  Conrad  left  the  garden,  followed  again  by  Kathi,  who  was  re- 
solved to  leave  the  great  lord  alone  with  her  sister.  Marianne,  who 
before  had  been  so  happy  and  unembarrassed,  now  started  forward 
with  the  intention  of  going  with  her  father.  But  the  emperor  would 
not  allow  it.  He  caught  her  by  both  hands  and  held  her  fast. 
"  Stay,  frightened  doe, "  said  he  softly.  "  You  are  right,  dear  child, 
to  tremble  before  men,  for  they  are  full  of  deceit;  but  do  not  be 
afraid  of  me  ;  I  will  not  harm  you. " 

Marianne  raised  lier  dark,  tearful  eyes  to  his  face,  and  gradually 
a  smile  lit  up  her  lovely  features. 

"  I  believe  you,  my  lord, "  said  she.  "  You  have,  perhaps,  already 
seen  tliat  I  would  do  any  thing  on  earth  for  you,  were  it  even  to 
give  up  my  life  ;  but  for  no  one  would  I  do  that  which  my  mother 
would  blame  if  she  were  living— on  no  account  would  I  do  that 
which  I  might  not  tell  in  prayer  to  my  heavenly  Father." 

The  emperor  lookcnl  once  more  at  her  lovely  face. 

"Oh,  Marianne!  why  are  you  a  peasant!"  exclaimed  he.  Then 
raising  his  eyes  to  heaven.  "  Almighty  God, "  continued  he,  "  shield 
lier  from  liarm.  In  Thy  presence  I  swear  to  protect  her  honor— even 
from  myself. " 

At  that  moment  old  Conrad  appeared  in  the  road.  At  his  side 
was  a  little  old  man  in  a  faded  cassock,  whose  spare  white  hair 
scarcely  covered  his  bald  liead. 

Joseph  came  forward,  holding  Marianne  by  the  hand.  Kathi 
darted  from  tlio  liouse,  laughing  vociferously.  The  priest  advanced, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  face  of  the  stranger.  All  at  once,  pointing 
with  his  finger  to  Josepli,  he  cried  out : 

"Conrad,  a  great  honor  has  befallen  your  house.  Your  guest  is 
the  emperor !" 

"The  emperor!"  exclaimed  three  voices— two  in  joyous  notes, 
the  third  with  the  cry  of  despair. 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  SOLOMON.         205 

Conrad  and  Kathi  were  on  their  knees  ;  Marianne  leaned  deathly 
pale  against  the  arbor. 

"  Yes,  father, "  replied  Joseph,  mastering  his  annoyance  at  the 
revelation  ;  "  yes,  I  am  the  emperor.  But,  my  friends,  do  not  offer 
me  such  homage  as  belongs  to  God  alone.  Rise,  Conrad.  Old  men 
should  not  kneel  before  young  ones.  Rise,  Kathi.  Men  should 
kneel  before  pretty  maidens,  no  matter  whether  they  be  princesses 
or  peasants.  And  now,  father,  hear  my  petition.  I  am  tired  and 
suffering.  I  have  had  a  fall  from  my  horse,  and  I  do  not  wish  to 
go  to-night  to  Vienna.  I  have  offered  this  old  man  a  handful  of 
gold  to  give  me  his  only  bed — the  one  in  his  daughters'  room.  But 
he  will  not  give  his  consent  without  your  approval.  Decide  be- 
tween us,  and  remember  who  it  is  that  asks  for  lodging  here. " 

The  head  of  the  old  priest  sank  upon  his  breast. 

"  Oh, "  thought  Kathi,  "  I  hope  he  will  say  yes. " 

Marianne  made  not  a  movement,  while  her  father  looked  anx- 
iously toward  the  priest. 

"  Well,  father,  well, "  cried  Joseph.  "  You  say  nothing— and  yet 
I  have  told  you  that  the  emperor  craves  a  night's  lodging  in  the 
room  of  these  young  girls.  You  see  that  I  ask  where  I  might  com- 
mand. I  should  think  that  the  lord  of  the  whole  land  is  also  lord  of 
the  little  room  of  two  peasant-girls. " 

"  Yes,  your  majesty.  You  are  lord  of  the  room,  but  not  of  the 
honor  of  these  peasant-girls, "  replied  the  curate,  raising  his  eyes, 
and  steadily  meeting  those  of  Joseph.* 

"Nobly  answered,  father, "  replied  the  emperor,  taking  the  old 
priest's  hand,  and  pre.ssing  it  between  his  own.  "Had  you  decided 
otherwise,  I  would  not  have  forgiven  you.  Before  the  servant  of 
the  Lord,  the  claims  of  the  sovereign  are  on  an  equality  with  those 
of  his  subject.  Pardon  me,  Conrad,  for  testing  your  honor  as  I 
did,  and  accept  my  horse  as  a  token  of  my  respect.  If  you  should 
ever  wish  to  sell  him,  bring  him  to  the  imperial  stables,  and  he  will 
be  ransomed  by  me  for  a  thousand  florins. " 

"Oh,  your  majesty, "  said  the  happy  old  man,  "I  shall  die  con- 
tent— for  my  children  are  provided  for. " 

"Now  we  are  rich,"  cried  Kathi,  "the  best  match  in  the  village 
will  be  proud  to  marry  either  one  of  us." 

The  emperor,  meanwhile,  took  out  his  pocket-book,  and,  tearing 
out  a  leaf,  wrote  some  words  upon  it. 

Folding  the  paper,  he  advanced  to  Marianne,  and  handing  it  to 
her,  said  : 

"My  dear  child,  when  your  father  presents  this  paper  to  the  mar- 
shal of  my  household.  Count  Rosenberg,  he  will  give  him  in  return 
for  you  five  hundred  florins. " 

"Five  hundred  florins  !"  exclaimed  Kathi,  with  envious  looks. 

"  Take  the  paper,  Marianne, "  pleaded  the  emperor.  "  It  is  your 
dowry. " 

Marianne  raised  her  tearful  eyes,  but  her  hands  did  not  move  to 
take  the  gift.     She  reflected  for  a  moment,  and  then  spoke. 

"Five  hundred  florins,"  echoed  she,  "is  not  that  a  large  sum?" 

"  It  is,  my  child, "  replied  Joseph. 

"More  than  the  value  of  the  ring  you  gave  my  sister,  is  it  not?" 
asked  she. 

The  emperor  looked  disappointed.     "  Yes,  Marianne, "  replied  he, 
*  "  Life  of  Joseph  II.,  Emperor  of  Austria,"  vol  iii.,  p.  89. 


206  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

with  a  sigh.     "You  have  no  reason  to  envy  your  sister.     Kathi's 
ring  is  not  worth  more  tliau  a  hundred  florins. " 

He  still  held  the  paper  in  his  hands.  Suddenly  Marianne  took  it 
from  him,  and  crossed  over  to  her  sister. 

"You  hear,  Kathi,"  said  she,  "you  hear  what  the  emperor  says. 
This  paper  is  worth  five  times  as  much  as  your  ring.  Let  us  ex- 
change." 

So  saying,  she  held  out  the  paper,  while  Kathi  with  a  scream  of 
delight,  snatched  it  from  her  hand,  and  as  quick  as  thought,  drew 
the  ring  from  her  own  finger. 

"  If  you  repent  your  bargain,  Marianne, "  said  she,  "  so  much  the 
worse  for  you.     The  dowry  is  mine— and  mine  it  shall  remain." 

Marianne  did  not  listen.  She  placed  the  ring  upon  her  own 
hand,  and  contemplated  it  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction.  Then  going 
up  to  the  priest,  she  addressed  him  with  a  grace  that  would  have 
been  winning  in  a  countess. 

"Father,"  said  she,  "you  have  heard  the  exchange  that  Kathi 
and  I  have  made.  The  dowry  is  hers— the  ring  is  mine.  As  long 
as  I  live,  I  shall  wear  this  token  of  my  emperor's  condescending 
goodness.  And  when  I  die,  father,  promise  me  that  my  ring  shall 
go  with  me  to  the  grave. " 

The  emperor,  all  etiquette  forgetting,  made  a  step  forward,  with 
his  arms  extended.  But  recovering  himself,  he  stopped  ;  his  arms 
dropped  heavily  to  his  side,  and  he  heaved  a  deep,  deep  sigh. 
Instead  of  approaching  Marianne,  he  drew  near  to  the  priest. 
"  Father, "  said  he,  "  my  mother  will  perhaps  feel  some  anxiety 
on  my  account.  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  accompany  me  to  the 
post-house,  where  I  may  perhaps  be  able  to  procure  some  vehicle  for 
Vienna. " 

"  I  am  ready,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  curate  ;  "  and  if  it  pleases 
you,  we  will  set  out  at  once." 

"  So  be  it, "  sighed  Joseph.  "  Farewell,  Conrad, "  continued  he  ; 
"hearken  to  the  counsels  of  your  excellent  pastor,  for  he  is  a  faith- 
ful servant  of  God.  Farewell,  Kathi ;  now  that  you  have  a  dower, 
you  will  speedily  find  a  husband.  Let  me  be  godfather  to  the  first 
baby." 

Kathi  blushed  and  laughed,  while  the  emperor  turned  to  the  pale 
Marianne.  He  took  her  hand,  and,  pressing  it  to  his  lips,  he  said 
to  the  priest,  who  was  looking  on  with  anxious  eyes— 

"  A  man  has  the  right  to  kiss  the  hand  of  a  lovely  and  innocent 
girl  like  this,  even  though  he  have  the  misfortune  to  be  born  an 
emperor.    Has  he  not,  father?" 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  Joseph  dropped  the  poor  little 
cold  hand,  and  turned  away. 

The  old  priest  followed,  while  Conrad  and  his  daughters  looked 
on,  scarcely  crediting  the  evidence  of  their  senses. 

The  emperor  had  reached  the  cottage-gate,  when  suddenly  he 
turned,  and  spoke  again. 

"Marianne,  one  last  request.  Will  you  give  me  the  kerchief 
with  wliich  you  were  bathing  my  head  to-day?  The  evening  air  is 
cool  Jibout  my  throat.     I  am  subject  to  lioarseness. " 

Marianne  was  trembling  so  tluit  she  could  not  answer.  But 
Kathi  came  forward,  and  taking  the  kerchief  from  a  rosebush  where 
it  bad  been  hung  to  dry,  she  ran  forward,  and  gave  it  into  the 
emperor's  hands. 


TWO  AFFIANCED  QUEENS.  207 

He  bowed,  and  continued  his  way. 

Marianne  gazed  wistfully  down  the  road  at  the  tall  and  noble 
form  that  was  disappearing  from  her  sight — perhaps  forever. 


CHAPTER     XLIX. 

TWO     AFFIANCED     QUEENS. 

There  was  great  activity  in  the  private  apartments  of  the  em- 
press. Maria  Theresa,  whose  forenoons  were  usually  dedicated  to 
business  of  state,  was  now  engaged  in  giving  audience  to  jewellers, 
milliners,  and  mantuamakers. 

For  whom  were  these  preparations?  No  one  knew,  although 
every  one  desired  to  know.  The  secret  seemed  especiallj'  to  interest 
the  two  young  Archduchesses  Caroline  and  Marie  Antoinette.  These 
silks,  satins,  laces,  and  jewels  signified — marriage.  Of  that,  there 
could  be  no  doubt.  But  who  was  to  be  the  bride?  The  Archduchess 
Elizabeth  was  past  thirty.  Could  it  be  that  there  was  any  truth  in 
the  rumor  of  a  projected  marriage  between  herself  and  the  old  King 
of  France?  She  was  tired  of  life  at  the  court  of  Austria,  and  would 
have  welcomed  the  change,  had  the  negotiations  which  were  pend- 
ing on  that  subject  ever  come  to  any  thing.     But  thej-  did  not.* 

Caroline  and  Marie  Antoinette  were  very  incredulous  when  it 
was  hinted  that  their  mother's  preparations  were  intended  for  their 
eldest  sister.  They  laughed  at  the  absiu'dity  of  Elizabeth's  faded 
pretensions. 

"  It  must  be  that  I  am  about  to  be  married, "  said  Caroline,  as  she 
entered  her  little  sister's  room  one  morning,  in  full  di-ess.  "The 
empress  has  commanded  my  presence  in  her  cabinet  to-day,  and 
that  betokens  something  unusual  and  important.  But  bless  me ! 
you,  too,  are  in  full  dress?" 

"Yes,"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  laughing,  and  echoing  her  sister's 
words,  "  it  must  certainly  be  myself  that  is  about  to  be  married,  for 
the  empress  has  commanded  my  presence  in  her  cabinet,  and,  of 
course,  she  has  something  of  great  importance  to  communicate." 

"How!  You  also?"  exclaimed  Caroline.     "At  what  hour?" 

"At  twelve  exactly,  your  highness, "  answered  Marie  Antoinette, 
with  a  deep  courtesy. 

"The  same  hour.  Then  we  must  go  together.  I  suppose  that 
the  empress  intends  to  propose  a  husband  for  me,  and  a  new  tutor 
for  you,  Antoinette. " 

"Pray,  why  not  a  husband?"  laughed  Marie  Antoinette. 

"Because,  you  saucy  child,"  replied  her  sister,  "husbands  are 
not  dolls  for  little  girls  to  play  with. " 

Marie  Antoinette  tossed  her  pretty  head,  saying,  "Let  me  tell 
you,  Caroline,  that  little  girls  are  sometimes  as  wise  as  their  elders, 
and  I  shall  give  you  a  proof  of  my  superior  wisdom,  by  not  return- 
ing irony  for  irony.  Perhaps  it  may  be  you  who  is  to  be  married — 
perhaps  it  may  be  both  of  us.  There  are  more  croAvns  in  Europe  than 
one.     But  hark  !  there  sounds  the  clock.     The  empress  expects  us. " 

*  They  were  frustrated  by  the  Countess  du  Barry,  who  never  forgave  the  Duke 
de  Choiseul  for  entertaining  the  project.  Du  Barry  prevailed  upon  the  king  to  say 
tliat  he  was  too  old  to  marry,  and  she  revenged  herself  on  Choiseul  by  bringing 
about  his  disgrace.    Alex.  Dumas,  "  History  of  Louis  XV." 


208  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

She  gave  her  hand  to  her  sister,  and  the  two  princesses  went 
laughing  together  to  their  mother's  room. 

The  empress  received  them  with  an  affectionate  smile,  and 
although  her  daughters  were  accustomed  to  stand  in  her  pi-esence, 
to-day  she  told  them  to  sit  on  either  side  of  her. 

They  were  both  beautiful,  and  their  mother  surveyed  them  with 
pride  and  pleasure. 

"  Come,  dear  children, "  said  she,  "  we  will  banish  etiquette  for 
a  while.  To-day  I  am  no  empress,  I  am  but  a  mother.  But  why 
do  you  both  smile  so  significantly  at  one  another?  Are  you  guess- 
ing at  what  is  to  be  the  subject  of  our  interview^?" 

"  What  can  it  be,  your  majesty, "  said  Caroline  gayly,  "  but  the 
explanation  of  the  riddle  that  has  been  puzzling  all  the  brains  in 
the  palace  for  a  month  past  V" 

"  You  have  guessed, "  answ^ered  Maria  Theresa,  laughing.  "  It  is 
of  your  own  marriage  that  I  would  speak.  I  have  accepted  a  crown 
for  you,  my  Caroline,  and  the  ambassador  who  will  conduct  you  to 
your  kingdom  is  already  on  his  way.  Your  trousseau  is  magnifi- 
cent and  worthy  of  a  queen.  Your  fair  brow  was  made  for  a  royal 
diadem,  and  in  yonder  room  lies  one  that  is  made  up  of  a  constella- 
tion of  diamonds." 

"But  the  king — the  man — who  is  he?"  asked  Caroline  anxiously. 
"Tell  me,  your  majesty,  to  whom  I  am  afiianced?" 

The  empress's  brow  grew  ruffled. 

"  My  daughter, "  said  she,  "  a  princess  marries  not  a  king,  but  a 
kingdom.  It  is  given  to  few  mortals  wearing  crowns  to  add  to 
their  royalty  domestic  happiness.  It  becomes  you  more  to  ask 
whether  you  are  to  be  a  great  and  powerful  queen,  than  the  name  of 
the  man  who  is  to  place  his  crown  upon  your  head." 

The  princess  was  silent,  but  she  said  to  herself,  "  If  she  means  to 
hand  me  over  to  the  horrid  old  King  of  France,  I  shall  say  emphati- 
cally—No !" 

The  empress  went  on.  "  Diplomacy  is  the  wooer  of  royal  maidens, 
and  diplomacy  has  chosen  you  both.  For  you,  too,  my  little  Antoi- 
nette, are  promised  to  the  heir  of  a  crown." 

Marie  Antoinette  nodded  to  Caroline.  "I  told  j'ou  so,"  said  she. 
"  Mamma  did  not  call  me  hither  to  propose  a  new  tutor. " 

"Yes,  my  dear,"  said  the  empress,  laughing,  "I  did  call  you 
hither  for  that  object  also.  A  little  girl  who  is  destined  to  reign 
over  one  of  the  greatest  nations  in  the  world,  must  prepare  herself 
conscientiously  to  fill  her  station  worthily.  You  have  a  noble  mis- 
sion, my  child  ;  through  your  marriage  the  enmity  so  long  subsist- 
ing ibetween  Austria  and  France  shall  be  converted  into  amity  and 
concord. " 

"France!"  screamed  Antoinette.  "Your  majesty  would  surely 
not  marry  me  to  the  horrid  old  Louis  XV.  !" 

"Oh  no!"  replied  the  empress,  heartily  amused.  "Y'ou  are 
affianced  to  his  grandson,  who  one  of  these  days  will  be  called  Louis 
XVI." 

Marie  Antoinette  uttered  a  cry  and  started  from  her  seat.  "  Oh, 
my  God  !"  exclaimed  she. 

"What — what  is  the  matter?"  cried  Maria  Theresa.  "Speak,  my 
child,  what  ails  you?" 

"Nothing,"  murmured  Antoinette,  shaking  her  head  sadly. 
"  Y^'our  majesty  would  only  laugh. " 


TWO  AFFIANCED  QUEENS.  209 

"What  is  it?  I  insist  upon  knowing  why  it  is  that  you  shudder 
at  the  name  of  Louis  XVI.  ?  Have  you  heard  aught  to  his  disad- 
vantage?   Has  your  brother  the  emperor — " 

"No,  no,"  interrupted  Marie  Antoinette,  quickly,  "the  emperor 
has  never  mentioned  his  name  to  me.  No  one  has  ever  spoken  dis- 
paragingly of  the  dauphin  in  my  presence.  What  made  me  shudder 
at  the  mention  of  his  title,  is  the  recollection  of  a  fearful  prophecy 
which  was  related  to  me  yesterday,  by  my  French  teacher,  as  we 
were  reading  the  hisory  of  Catherine  de  Medicis. " 
"Tell  it  to  me,  then,  my  daughter." 

"  Since  your  majesty  commands  me,  I  obey, "  said  the  voung  girl, 
gracefully  inclining  her  head.  "  Catherine  de  Medicis,  though  she 
was  very  learned,  was  a  very  superstitious  woman.  One  of  her 
astrologers  owned  a  magic  looking-glass.  He  brought  it  before  the 
queen,  and  she  commanded  him  to  show  her  in  the  mirror  the  des- 
tiny of  her  royal  house.  He  obeyed,  and  drew  back  the  curtain 
that  covered  the  face  of  the  looking-glass." 

"And  what  did  she  see  there?"  asked  the  empress,  with  interest. 

Marie  Antoinette  continued  :  "  She  saw  the  lily-decked  throne  of 
France ;  and  upon  it  appeared,  one  after  another,  her  sons,  Henry, 
Francis,  and  Charles.  Then  came  her  hated  son-in-law,  Henry  of 
Navarre;  after  him,  Louis  XIII. — then  his  grandson,  Louis  XIV., 
then  Louis  XV." 

"And  what  then?" 

"  Then  she  saw  nothing.  She  waited  a  few  moments  after  Louis 
XV.  had  disappeared,  and  then  she  saw  a  figure  with  a  crown  upon 
his  head,  but  this  figure  soon  was  hidden  by  a  cloud  ;  and,  in  his 
place,  the  throne  was  filled  with  snakes  and  cats,  who  were  tearing 
each  other  to  pieces. " 

"Fearful  sight!"  said  Maria  Theresa,  rising  from  her  seat  and 
walking  about  the  room. 

"  It  was  fearful  to  Catherine  de  Medicis,  your  majesty,  for  she 
fainted.  Now  you  know  why  I  dread  to  be  the  bride  of  the  one  who 
is  to  be  called  Louis  XVI." 

The  empress  said  nothing.  For  a  while,  she  went  to  and  fro 
through  the  room  ;  then  she  resumed  her  seat,  and  threw  back  her 
proud  head  with  a  forced  smile. 

"  These  are  silly  fables, "  said  she,  "  tales  with  which  nurses  might 
frighten  little  children,  but  only  fit  to  provoke  laughter  from  rational 
beings." 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  interposed  Antoinette  "but  Louis 
XV.  is  not  too  rational  to  be  affected  by  them. " 

"How  do  you  know  that,  child?" 

"  I  know  it,  your  majesty,  because  Monsieur  le  Maitre,  who  pub- 
lished this  prophecy  in  his  journal  'L'Espion  Turc, '  was  imprisoned 
for  fifteen  years  in  the  Bastile,  on  account  of  it.  He  is  still  there, 
although  he  has  powerful  friends  who  have  interceded  for  him  in 
vain. "  * 

"And  Aufresne  told  you  all  this?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty. " 

"  He  ought  to  go  to  the  Bastile  with  Le  Maitre,  then.  But  I  hope 
that  my  little  Antoinette  has  too  much  sense  to  be  afi'ected  by 
Aufresne 's  nonsense,  and  that  she  will  accept  the  husband  whom 
her  sovereign  and  mother  has  chosen  for  her.     It  is  a  bright  destiny, 

♦Swinburne,  p.  CO. 


210  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

that  of  a  Queen  of  France  ;  and  if  snakes  and  cats  should  come  near 
your  throne,  you  must  tread  them  under  foot.  Look  up,  my  child, 
and  have  courage.  In  two  years  you  will  be  the  bride  of  the  dau- 
phin. Prepare  yourself  meanwhile  to  be  a  worthy  representative  of 
your  native  Austria.  The  Queen  of  France  must,  as  far  as  she  is 
able,  assimilate  herself  to  the  customs  and  language  of  her  people. 
With  that  intention.  Prince  Kauuitz  has  commissioned  the  Dvike  de 
Choiseul  to  select  you  a  new  teacher.  He  will  be  accompanied  by 
two  French  ladies  of  honor.  These  people,  my  dear,  are  to  form 
your  manners  according  to  the  requirements  of  court  etiquette  in 
France ;  but  in  your  heart,  my  child,  I  trust  that  you  will  alwa>  s 
be  an  Austrian.  That  you  may  not  be  too  French,  Gluck  will  con- 
tinue to  give  you  music  lessons.  I  flatter  myself  that  the  French 
cannot  compete  with  us  in  music.  Study  well,  and  try  to  deserve 
the  brilliant  destiny  in  store  for  you." 

She  drew  Antoinette  close  to  her  and  kissed  her  fondly. 
"  I  will  obey  your  majesty  in  all  things, "  whispered  the  child, 
and  sadly  she  resumed  her  seat. 

"Now^  Caroline,"  continued  the  empress,  a  word  with  you. 
You  see  with  what  modesty  and  submission  your  sister  has  accepted 
her  destiny.  Follow  her  example,  and  prepare  yourself  to  receive 
your  affianced  husband,  Ferdinand  of  Naples. " 

It  was  Caroline,  now,  who  turned  pale  and  slniddered.  She 
uttered  a  cry  of  horror,  and  raised  her  hands  in  abhorrence. 
"  Never  !  Never,  your  majesty, "  cried  she,  "  I  cannot  do  it.  You 
would  not  be  so  unnatural  as  to — " 

"And  why  not?"  asked  the  empress,  coldly. 

"  Because  God  Himself  has  declared  against  our  alliance  with  the 
King  of  Naples.  He  it  is  who  interposed  to  save  my  sisters  from  this 
marriage.  In  mercy,  my  mother,  do  not  sentence  vie  also  to  death  !" 
The  empress  grew  pale,  and  her  lip  quivered.  But  Maria  Theresa 
was  forever  warring  with  her  own  emotions,  so  that  nothing  was 
gained  for  Caroline  by  this  appeal  to  her  maternal  love. 

"What!"  exclaimed  she,  recovering  her  self-possession,  "doyot* 
also  seek  to  frighten  me?  I  am  not  the  cowardly  simpleton  for 
which  you  mistake  me.  As  if  the  King  of  Naples  were  a  vampire, 
to  murder  his  wuves  at  dead  of  night !  No,  Caroline,  no  !  If  it  has 
pleased  the  Almighty  to  afflict  me,  by  taking  to  Himself  the  two 
dear  children  who  were  to  have  been  Queens  of  Naples,  it  is  a  sad 
coincidence — nothing  more." 

"  But  I  cannot  marry  him  !"  cried  Caroline,  wringing  her  hands  ; 
"  I  should  be  forever  seeing  at  his  side  the  spectral  figures  of  my 
dead  sisters.     Mother,  dear  mother,  have  pity  on  me  !" 

"  Have  pity  on  lier  !"  echoed  Antoinette,  kneeling  at  the  empress's 
feet. 

"  Enough  !"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  in  a  commanding  voice. 
"  I  liave  spoken,  it  is  for  you  to  obey  ;  for  my  word  has  been  given, 
and  I  cannot  retract.  If,  as  your  mother,  I  feel  my  heart  grow 
weak  with  sympathy  for  yoitr  weakness,  as  your  empress,  I  spurn 
its  cowardly  promptings ;  for  my  imperial  word  shall  be  held 
sacred,  if  it  cost  me  mv  life.  Rise,  both  of  you.  It  ill  becomes  the 
Queens  of  France  and  Naples  to  bow  their  knees  like  beggars.  Obe- 
dience is  more  praiseworthy  than  luim  illation.  Go  to  your  ajmrt- 
nients ;  pray  for  courage  to  bear  your  crosses,  and  God's  blessing 
will  shield  you  from  all  evil." 


TWO  AFFIANCED  QUEENS.  211 

"  I  will  pray  God  to  give  me  grace  to  die  in  His  favor, "  faltered 
Caroline. 

"I  will  pray  Him  to  take  my  life  at  once,  rather  than  I  should 
live  to  share  the  destiny  of  Louis  XVI.  !"  whispered  Antoinette, 
while  the  two  imperial  martyrs  bowed  low  before  their  mother,  and 
retired  each  to  her  room. 

Maria  Theresa  looked  after  their  sweet,  childish  figures,  and 
when  the  door  had  closed  upon  them,  she  buried  her  face  in  the 
cushions  of  the  sofa  where  they  had  been  sitting  together,  and  wept. 

"My  children!  my  children!  Each  a  queen,  and  both  in  tears! 
Oh,  Heavenly  Father,  grant  that  I  may  not.  have  erred,  in  forcing 
this  weight  of  royalty  upon  their  tender  heads.  Mother  of  God, 
thou  hast  loved  a  child  !  By  that  lioly  love,  pray  for  those  who 
would  faint  if  their  crowns  should  be  of  thorns  1" 


EMPEROR    OF    AUSTRIA. 


CHAPTER    L. 

THE  DINNER  AT  THE  FRENCH  AMBASSADOR'S. 

Prince  Kaunitz  sat  lazily  reclining  in  his  arm-chair,  playing 
with  his  jewelled  snuflf-box  and  listening  with  an  appearance  ol 
unconcern  to  a  man  who,  in  an  attitude  of  profoundest  respect,  was 
relating  to  hina  a  remarkable  story  of  a  young  emperor  and  a  beauti- 
ful peasant-girl,  in  whic  there  was  much  talk  of  woods,  diamonds, 
milk,  and  an  Arabian  steed. 

The  smile  that  was  upon  the  face  of  the  minister  might  either 
betoken  amusement  or  incredulity. 

The  detective  was  at  that  period  of  his  story  where  the  emperor 
parted  from  old  Conrad  and  his  daughters.  He  now  paused  to  see 
the  effect  of  his  narration. 

"Very  pretty,  indeed,"  said  the  prince,  nodding  his  head,  "but 
romances  are  out  of  fashion.     In  these  days  we  prefer  truth. " 

"Does  your  highness  suppose  I  am  not  speaking  truth?"  said  the 
man. 

Kaunitz  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  replied  coldly,  "I  suppose 
nothing  about  it.  Somebody,  I  know,  has  been  playing  upon  yovir 
love  of  the  marvellous.  I  know  that  you  are  not  telling  nie  the  truth. " 

"Your  highness  !"  exclaimed  Eberhard,  with  the  air  of  an  injured 
man,  "no  one  can  impose  upon  my  credulitj%  for  I  believe  nothing 
but  that  which  I  see.  I  had  this  adventure  from  old  Conrad  him- 
self, and  I  saw  him  receive  a  thousand  ducats  for  the  horse.  In 
the  joy  of  his  foolish  old  heai't,  he  told  me  the  whole  story  ;  and  as 
he  saw  the  deep  interest  which  I  felt  in  the  tale,  he  invited  me  to 
his  house,  where  I  saw  the  beautiful  Marianne,  with  her  diamond 
on  her  linger. " 

"Then  you  acted  like  a  fool ;  for  the  emperor  knows  you  as  well 
as  all  Vienna  does,  and  he  will  be  furious  when  he  discovers  that 
we  have  been  watching  his  pastoral  amours." 

"Indeed,  your  highness  is  right,  I  would  be  a  poor  fool  to  go 
there  without  great  i)recaution  ;  for,  as  you  very  justly  remarked,  I 
am  well  known  in  Vienna.  But  when  I  made  the  old  peasant's 
acquaintance  I  was  disguised,  and  I  defy  anybody  to  know  me  when 
I  choose  to  play  incognito.  I  wore  a  gray  wig  and  a  black  patch 
over  one  eye.  In  this  dress  I  visited  them,  and  had  the  story  all 
over  again,  with  variations,  from  that  coquettish  village  beauty, 
Kathi." 

"How  long  ago?" 

"Three  weeks,  your  highness." 

"How  many  times  since  then  has  the  emperor  visited  his 
inamorata  ?  " 


■      THE  DINNER    AT  THE  FRENCH  AMBASSADOR'S.      213 

"Six  times,  your  highness.  Old  Conrad  has  bought  a  farm, 
where  he  lives  in  a  handsome  house,  in  which  each  of  his  daughters 
now  has  a  room  of  her  own.  Marianne's  room  opens  on  the  garden, 
where  the  emperor  drinks  his  milk  and  enjoys  the  privilege  of  her 
society  ?" 

"Have  the  girls  any  lovers?" 

"  Of  course,  your  highness ;  but  they  have  grown  so  proud  that 
Kathi  will  have  nothing  to  say  to  her  sweetheart,  Valentine  ;  while 
Marianne,  it  is  said,  has  never  encouraged  any  of  the  young  men  in 
the  village.     Indeed,  they  are  all  afraid  of  her. " 

"Because  they  know  that  the  emperor  honors  her  with  his 
presence  ?" 

"  No,  your  highness,  the  emperor  has  not  allowed  the  family  to 
whisper  a  word  of  his  agency  in  their  newly-gotten  wealth.  They 
give  out  that  it  is  a  legacy. " 

"  Do  the  emperor  and  Marianne  see  one  another  in  secret,  with- 
out the  curate  and  the  father's  knowledge?" 

Eberhard  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Day  before  yesterday,  Mari- 
anne went  alone  to  the  woods  to  gather  mushrooms,  and  never  came 
home  vmtil  dusk.  She  had  been  lost  in  the  woods.  It  was  the  day 
on  which  the  emperor  was  to  visit  the  farm,  but  he  did  not  come. 
Perhaps  he  got  lost  too.  To-morrow,  Marianne  is  to  gather  mush- 
rooms again.     I,  too,  shall  go— to  cut  wood. " 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  Kaunitz. 

"That  is  all,  for  to-day,  your  highness." 

"Very  well.  Go  home  and  invent  a  continuation  of  your  story. 
Let  no  one  know  of  it  meanwhile  except  myself.  You  can  boast  of 
more  than  some  poets  and  literati  can  say,  for  you  have  amused  me, 
and  I  will  reward  you.     Here  are  two  gold  ducats  for  you." 

Eberhard  bowed  low  as  he  received  them,  but  when  he  had  left 
the  room,  and  was  out  of  sight  of  Kaunitz,  he  turned  toward  the 
door  muttering,  "As  if  I  were  such  a  fool  as  to  sell  my  precious 
secret  to  you  for  two  paltiy  ducats  !  I  know  of  others  who  will  pay 
me  for  my  news,  and  they  shall  have  it. " 

Meanwhile  Kaunitz,  buried  in  his  arm-chair,  was  revolving  the 
story  in  his  mind. 

"  An  emperor,  a  widower  of  two  wives, "  said  he  to  himself,  "  and 
he  ti'eats  us  to  an  idyl  of  the  genuine  Gessner  stamp  !  An  imperial 
Damon  who  spends  his  time  twining  w^reaths  of  roses  with  his 
Phillis  !  Well — he  had  better  be  left  to  play  the  fool  in  peace  ;  his 
pastoral  will  keep  him  from  meddling  in  state  affairs.  Men  call  me 
the  coachman  of  European  politics  ;  so  be  it,  and  let  no  one  meddle 
with  my  coach-box.  That  noble  empress  is  of  one  mind  with  me, 
but  this  emperor  would  like  to  snatch  the  reins,  and  go  careering 
over  the  heavens  for  himself.  So  much  the  better  if  he  flirts  and 
drinks  milk  with  a  dairy-maid.  Bvit  how  long  will  it  last?  Eber- 
liard,  of  course,  has  gone  to  Porhammer,  who  being  piously  disin- 
clined to  such  little  pastimes,  will  go  straight  to  the  empress  ;  and 
then  Damon  will  be  reproved,  and  I — I  may  fall  under  her  displeasure 
for  having  known  and  concealed  her  son's  intrigue.  What  shall  I 
do?  Shall  I  warn  the  emperor  so  that  he  can  carry  off  his  Semele, 
and  go  on  with  his  amours?  Or  shall  I — bah!  Let  things  shape 
themselves.  Wliat  do  I  care  for  them  aii?  I  am  the  coachman  of 
Europe,  and  they  are  my  passengers. " 

So  saying,  Kaunitz  threw  back  his  head,  and,  being  alone,  in- 


214  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

dulged  himself  in  a  chuckle.  It  was  speedily  smothered,  however, 
for  three  taps  at  the  door  announced  the  approach  of  the  minister's 
valet. 

"The  fool  intends  to  remind  me  that  it  is  time  to  dress,"  said  he 
to  himself.  "  There  must  be  some  important  engagement  on  hand 
to  make  him  so  audacious.  Come  in,  Hippolyte  ! — Any  engagement 
for  dinner?"  asked  he,  as  Hippolyte  made  his  appearance. 

"So  please  your  highness,  you  dine  to-day  with  the  French 
anabassador. " 

"What  o'clock  is  it?" 

"Three  o'clock,  your  highness." 

"  It  is  time.  Tell  the  cook  to  send  my  dinner  to  the  palace  of 
the  French  ambassador.  His  excellency  knows  the  terms  on  which 
I  dine  out  of  my  own  house?" 

"  I  had  the  honor  to  explain  them  fully,  your  highness. " 

"And  he  acceded  to  them?" 

"He  did,  your  highness.  Your  highness,  he  said,  was  welcome 
to  bring  your  dinner,  if  you  preferred  it  to  his.  He  had  one  request, 
however,  to  make,  wliich  was  that  you  would  not  bring  your  post- 
dessert  ;  a  request  which  I  did  not  understand. " 

"  I  understand  it  perfectly.  The  Count  de  Breteuil  means  that 
he  would  like  me  to  leave  my  mouth -cleaning  apparatus  at  home. 
Come,  since  it  is  time,  let  vis  begin  to  dress." 

So  saying,  he  rose,  and  presently  he  was  walking  to  and  fro  in 
the  powder-room,  buried  in  his  white  mantle,  while  the  servants 
waved  their  powder- brushes,  and  the  air  was  dense  with  white 
clouds. 

"  Order  the  carriage, "  said  the  prince,  when  Hippolyte  had  pre- 
sented the  snviff-box  and  the  handkerchief  of  cobweb  cambric  and 
lace.     "  Three  footmen  to  stand  behind  my  chair. " 

Hippolyte  went  to  order  the  footmen  to  the  hotel  of  the  Count  de 
Breteuil,  while  his  master  slowly  made  his  way  to  the  anteroom 
wliere  six  lackeys  awaited  him,  each  one  bearing  aloft  a  long  silk 
cloak. 

"What  says  the  thermometer  to-day?"  asked  he. 

The  lackey  witli  the  first  cloak  stepped  to  a  window  and  exam- 
ined the  thermometer  that  was  fastened  outside. 

"Sixty  degrees,  your  highness — temperate,"  said  the  man. 

"Cold!  Four  cloaks,"  said  Kaunitz ;  and  stepping  through  the 
row  of  servants,  one  after  the  other  laid  cloak  upon  cloak  over  his 
shoulders.  When  the  fourth  one  had  been  wrai)ped  ar<Kmd  him, 
he  ordered  a  fifth  for  liis  return,  and  putting  his  handkerchief  to 
his  mouth  for  fear  he  might  swallow  a  breath  of  air,  tlie  coachman 
of  Europe  proceeded  to  his  carriage,  where  Hippolyte  was  ready  to 
lielp  him  in. 

"Is  my  moutli-cleaning  apparatus  iii  the  rumble?"  asked  the 
prince,  as  he  sank  back  in  the  soft  cusliions. 

"Your  highness  said  that  his  excellency  had  requested — " 

"Yes,  but  I  did  not  say  tliat  I  should  hoed  his  excellency's  re- 
quest. Quick,  and  bring  it  hither!  ("ups,  brushes,  essences,  and 
every  thing  !" 

OlE  started  Hippolyte,  and  Kaunitz  drew  liis  four  cloaks  around 
his  precious  person  wliile  lie  muttered  to  himself,  "I  shall  sliow  my 
lord.  Count  de  Br(>teuil,  that  tlie  man  wlio  lias  tlie  honor  of  receiv- 
ing Kaunitz  at  his  table,  maUcs  no  conditions  with  such  a  guest. 


THE   DINNER  AT  THE   FRENCH  AMBASSADOR'S.      215 

The  FrencJi  ambassador  grows  arrogant,  and  I  must  teach  him  that 
the  rules  of  etiquette  and  customs  of  society  are  for  him  and  his 
compeers,  but  not  for  me.  Whatever  Kaunitz  does  is  becoming  and 
en  regie.     Voild  tout. — Forward  !" 

Meanwhile  the  Count  de  Breteuil  was  receiving  his  distinguished 
guests.  After  the  topics  of  the  day  had  been  discussed,  he  informed 
them  that  he  was  glad  to  be  able  to  promise  that  Prince  Kaunitz 
would  come  to  dinner  withoid  his  abominable  apparatus. 

"  Impossible  !"  exclaimed  the  ladies. 

"  Not  at  all, "  replied  the  count.  "  I  have  complied  with  one  of 
his  absurd  conditions — he  brings  his  dinner  ;  but  I  made  it  my 
especial  request  that  he  would  omit  his  usual  post- dessert." 

"  And  he  agreed  ?" 

"  It  would  appear  so,  since  he  has  accepted.  It  must  be  so,  for 
see,  he  is  here. " 

The  count  went  forward  to  meet  the  prince,  who  deigned  not 
the  smallest  apology  for  having  kept  the  guests  waiting  a  whole 
hour. 

They  repaired  to  the  dining-room,  wliere  a  costly  and  luxurious 
dinner  made  amends  to  the  conipany  for  their  protracted  fast. 

Kavinitz,  however,  took  no  notice  of  these  delicate  viands.  He 
ate  his  own  dinner,  and  was  served  by  his  own  lackeys. 

"Your  highness,"  said  his  neighbor,  the  Princess  Esterhazy, 
"you  should  taste  t\n?> pate  d  la  Soubise,  it  is  delicious." 

"  Who  knows  what  abominable  ingredients  may  not  have  gone 
into  its  composition?"  said  Kaunitz.  "  I  might  poison  myself  if  I 
tasted  the  villanous  compound.  It  is  all  very  well  for  ordinary 
I>eople  to  eat  from  other  men's  kitcliens.  If  they  die,  the  ranks 
close  up  and  nobody  misses  them  ;  but  I  owe  my  life  to  Austria  and 
to  Europe.  Eat  yourpdYe  d  la  Soubwe,  if  it  suit  you  ;  7  eat  nothing 
but  viands  a  la  Kaiinitc,  and  I  trust  to  no  cook  but  my  own." 

It  was  the  same  with  the  Tokay,  the  Johannisberg  and  tlie 
Champagne.  Kaunitz  affected  not  to  see  them,  wliile  one  of  his 
lackeys  reached  him  a  glass  of  water  on  a  golden  salver.  Kaunitz 
held  it  up  to  the  light.  "How  dare  you  bring  me  water  from  the 
couufs  fountain?"  said  he,  with  a  threatening  look. 

"Indeed,  your  highness,"  stammered  the  frightened  servant,  "I 
drew  it  myself  from  your  highuess's  own  fountain." 

"  How, "  laughed  the  Princess  Esterhazy,  "  you  bring  your  water, 
too?" 

"Yes,  madame,  I  do,  for  it  is  the  purest  water  in  Vienna,  and  I 
have  already  told  you  that  my  health  is  of  the  first  importance  to 
Austria.     Bread,  Baptiste  !  " 

Baptiste  was  behind  the  chair,  with  a  golden  plate,  on  which  lay 
two  or  three  slices  of  bread,  which  he  presented. 

"And  bread,  too,  from  his  house, "  cried  the  princess,  laughing 
immoderatel}'. 

"  Yes,  madame, "  replied  Kaunitz,  gravely,  "  I  eat  no  bread  but 
that  of  my  own  baker. " 

"Oh,"  replied  the  gay  young  princess.  "I  am  not  surprised  at 
your  taking  such  wondrous  good  care  of  yourself  ;  what  astonishes 
me  is,  that  you  should  be  allowed  to  enjoy  such  privileges  in  a 
house  that  is  not  j^our  own.  Why,  Louis  XlV.  could  not  have  been 
more  exacting  wlien  he  condescended  to  dine  with  a  subject !" 

Kaunitz  raised  his  cold  blue  eyes  so  as  to  meet  the  look  of  the 
15 


216  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

bold  speaker.     "  Madame, "  said  he,  "  Louis  XIV.  was  Louis  XIV. , 
and  I  am  Kaunitz. " 

So  saying,  he  took  a  glass  of  water  from  Ms  fountain,  and  ate  a 
piece  of  bread  from  his  baker.  He  then  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
took  an  animated  part  in  the  conversation. 

This  was  only  because  thereby  he  knew  that  he  would  dazzle  his 
hearers  by  speaking  English,  French,  Italian,  or  Spanish,  as  occa- 
sion required. 

The  dinner  was  at  an  end  and  dessert  came  on  the  table.  Of 
course  Kaixnitz  refused  to  partake  of  it ;  but  while  the  other  guests 
were  enjoying  their  confections,  he  took  advantage  of  a  pause  in 
the  conversation,  to  say  to  his  pretty  neighbor  : 

"  Now,  princess,  that  the  company  have  enjoyed  their  dessert,  I 
shall  take  the  liberty  of  ordering  mine. " 

"Ah  !  you  have  your  own  dessert?"  asked  the  princess,  while  the 
guests  listened  to  hear  what  was  coming. 

"I  have,"  said  Kaunitz.  "I  have  brought  my  dessert,  of  course. 
Hippolyte,  my  etui. " 

Hippolyte  brought  the  offensive  etni  and  laid  it  on  the  dinner- 
table,  while  Baptiste  approached  with  a  glass  of  water.  Kamiitz 
opened  the  case  with  quiet  indifference  and  examined  its  contents. 
There  were  several  small  mirrors,  various  kinds  of  brushes,  scissors, 
knives,  a  whet-stone,  and  a  pile  of  little  linen  napkins.* 

While  Kaunitz  examined  and  took  out  his  disgusting  little  uten- 
sils the  ladies  looked  at  Count  Breteuil,  who  could  scarcely  credit 
the  evidence  of  his  senses.  But  as  Kaunitz  set  a  looking-glass  be- 
fore him,  raised  his  upper  lip,  and  closed  his  teeth,  preparatory  to  a 
cleaning,  the  count  rose  indignant  from  his  seat. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen, "  said  he,  "  we  will  return  to  the  draw- 
ing-room for  coffee ;  Prince  Kaunitz  desires  tJiis  room  to  him- 
self. " 

The  company  departed,  leaving  Kaunitz  alone.  He  did  not  look 
as  if  he  had  heard  or  seen  any  thing.  He  went  on  grinning,  brush- 
ing his  teeth,  drying  them  in  and  out  with  his  napkins,  and  finished 
off  vvitli  washing  his  hands  and  cleaning  his  nails.  This  done, 
lie  walked  deliberately  back  to  the  drawing-room,  and,  going  im- 
mediately toward  the  host,  he  said  : 

"  Count,  I  am  about  to  return  home.  You  have  taken  very  great 
pains  to  prepare  a  dinner  for  me,  and  I  shall  make  you  a  princely 
return.  From  this  daj'^  forward  I  dine  no  more  from  home  ;  your 
dinner,  thc^refore,  will  be  immortal,  for  history  will  relate  that  the 
last  time  Prince  Kaunitz  dined  away  from  his  own  palace,  he  dined 
at  that  of  the  French  ambassador. " 

With  this  he  bowed,  and  slowly  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER    LI. 

MARIANNE'S   DISAPPEARANCE. 

Kaunitz  remained  true  to  his  policy  in  the  drama  of  "  The  Em- 
peror and  the  Dairy-Maid."  He  allowed  things  to  run  tluir  course. 
Twice   a   week,    Eberhard    came   with  additional   information,    to 

*  Swinburne,  vol  i.,  page  353. 


MARIANNE'S  DISAPPEARANCE.  217 

which  the  minister  listened  with  deep  interest,  but  his  interest 
never  took  the  shape  of  action.     What  did  he  care? 

"This  imperial  idyl  is  a  disease,"  thought  he.  "It  will  have  its 
crisis  by  and  by,  like  a  cutaneous  eruption.  Let  it  come.  Why 
should  I  help  the  patient  when  I  have  not  been  called  in?" 

Not  long  after,  however,  he  was  called  in.  One  morning  he  was 
lying  in  his  dressing-gown  on  a  divan,  his  head  bound  up  in  half 
a  dozen  silk  handkerchiefs,  and  his  whole  person  in  the  primeval 
disorder  of  a  slovenly  neglige,  when  his  valet  announced — the  Em- 
l^eror  Joseph. 

Kaunitz  half  rose,  saying  with  a  yawn,  "Show  his  majesty  to 
the  state  reception-room,  and  beg  him  to  await  me  there." 

"  I  have  no  time  to  wait,  my  dear  prince, "  said  a  soft  and  melan- 
choly voice  behind  him  ;  and,  as  Kaunitz  turned  round,  he  saw  the 
emperor  who  was  already  at  his  side. 

The  prince  motioned  to  Hippolyte  to  leave  the  room.  He  went 
out  on  tiptoe,  and,  as  he  reached  the  threshold,  the  emperor  him- 
self closed  the  door  and  locked  it.  Kaunitz,  who  had  risen,  stood 
in  the  middle  of  the  room,  looking  as  indifferent  to  the  visit  of  an 
emperor  as  to  that  of  a  tailor. 

"Prince,"  said  Joseph,  returning  and  offering  his  hand,  "we 
have  not  hitherto  been  good  friends,  but  you  see  that  I  hold  you  in 
esteem,  for  I  come  to  claim  your  assistance. " 

"  I  expected  your  majesty, "  replied  Kaunitz. 

The  emperor  cast  his  eyes  over  the  velvet  dressing-gown  and  the 
half  dozen  head  handkerchiefs,  and  looked  his  astonishment.  The 
prince  understood  the  glance,  and  replied  to  it. 

"  I  did  not  expect  your  majesty  quite  so  soon.  A  few  hours  later 
I  would  have  been  ready  to  receive  you.  Will  you  permit  me  to 
retire  for  a  few  moments,  that  I  may  at  least  make  my  head,  if  not 
the  rest  of  my  person,  presentable?" 

The  emperor  took  the  hand  of  the  prince  and  led  him  back  to  the 
divan.  "My  dear  Kaunitz,"  said  he,  "when  a  man's  head  is  in 
such  a  maze  as  mine  to-day,  he  concerns  himself  very  little  about 
the  looks  of  other  men.  Sit  down  again,  and  I  will  take  this  arm- 
chair by  you. " 

He  drew  Kaunitz,  with  gentle  force,  upon  the  divan,  and  then 
seated  himself  at  his  side. 

"  Do  you  know  what  brings  me  to  you?"  said  Joseph,  blushing. 

"  I  believe  that  I  do,  your  majesty.  It  is  no  state  affair,  for  on 
state  affairs,  unhappily,  we  are  ever  at  variance. " 

The  emperor  laughed  a  sardonic  laugh.  "  What  need  have  I  of  a 
state  councillor,  I  who  am  but  a  puppet  in  the  hands  of  my  mother, 
I  who  must  stand,  with  shackled  arms,  and  look  on  while  she  reigns? 
But  it  is  in  vain  to  murmur.  I  watch  and  wait ;  and  while  I  wait, 
I  find  myself  inclining  fast  to  your  policy.  I  laelieve  you  to  be  an 
honorable  statesman,  and  I  believe  also  that  the  course  you  have 
pursued,  you  have  chose  because  you  are  convinced  that  it  is  wise. " 

"  Your  majesty  means  the  French  alliance, "  said  Kaunitz.  "  You, 
like  your  deceased  father,  have  always  opposed  it,  and  but  for  the 
firmness  of  and  wisdom  of  the  empress,  it  would  have  failed.  But 
we  need  not  discuss  this  matter  to-day  ;  I  owe  the  honor  conferred 
upon  me  to  another  question. " 

"  Then  you  know  why  I  am  here  ?" 

"  I  believe  that  I  know, "  replied  Kaunitz,  playing  with  the  silk 


218  JOSEPH  11.  AND  HIS  COUET. 

tassels  of  his  dressing-gown.  "I  Imve  lately  heard  a  tale  about  an 
emperor  who  \\'as  lost  in  a  forest  and  rescued  by  a  peasaut-girl. 
The  sovereign  was  grateful,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the  damsel 
forthwith  melted  away  with  love  at  the  sight  of  him,  as  Semele  did 
for  Jupiter.  That,  too,  luay  be  very  natural ;  but  let  me  tell  your 
majesty,  it  is  dangerous,  for  the  committee  on  morals  do  not  approve 
of  such  pastorals,  and  the  empress — " 

"That  accursed  committee  !"  cried  Joseph.  "It  is  they  who  dis- 
covered it,  and  you  who  betrayed  me. " 

Kaunitz  slightly  elevated  his  shoulders,  and  his  eyes  rested,  un- 
moved, upon  the  emperor's  glowing  face.  "I  have  never  yet,"  said 
he,  "descended  to  the  office  of  an  informer.  Had  your  majesty 
addressed  me  on  this  subject  some  weeks  ago,  I  should  have  said  to 
you,  'You  are  dreaming  a  very  pretty  dream  of  innocence,  juoon- 
shine,  and  childishness.  If  you  do  not  wish  to  be  roughly  awakened, 
go  and  dream  at  a  distance  from  Vienna  ;  for  here  there  are  certainly 
some  people  who  will  think  it  their  duty  to  disturb  you  !'" 

"Why  did  you  not  warn  me, Kaunitz?" 

"I  did  not  wish  to  have  the  appearance  of  forcing  myself  into 
your  majesty's  confidence.  I  had  not  been  intrusted  with  your 
secret,  and  had  no  right  to  warn  you. " 

"No,  you  warned  the  empress  instead,"  said  Joseph,  bitterly. 

"I  warned  nobody,  your  majesty.  I  said  to  myself,  'He  is  an 
enviable  man  to  be  able,  in  the  midst  of  an  artificial  life,  to  enjoy 
the  sweets  of  rural  intercourse. '  I  foresaw  what  must  inevitably 
happen  ;  and  pitied  the  innocent  Eve,  who  will,  ere  long,  be  exiled 
from  paradise. " 

"  She  is  exiled  !"  cried  the  emperor.  "  She  has  been  removed,  I 
know  not  where.     She  has  disappeared,  and  no  trace  of  her  can  I 

"Disappeared!"  exclaimed  Kaunitz,  astonished.  "Then  I  have 
not  heard  the  whole  truth.  I  did  not  even  know  that  she  was  to  be 
removed;  I  only  suspected  it." 

"Tell  me  the  truth  !"  cried  the  emperor,  sharply. 

"Sire,"  said  Kaunitz,  proudly,  "there  may  be  times  when  it  is 
the  part  of  wisdom  to  be  silent ;  but  it  is  never  permitted  to  a  man 
of  honor  to  be  untruthful.  I  know  nothing  of  this  girl's  disappear- 
ance. The  most  that  I  anticipated  was  a  forced  marriage.  This,  I 
knew,  would  occasion  new  difi:'erences  between  the  empress  and 
your  majesty,  and  I  had  supposed  that  you  were  coming  to  me  to 
call  for  my  mediation." 

"I  must  believe  you,"  sighed  the  emperor.  "But  prove  your 
integrity  by  helping  me  to  find  her.  Oh,  Kaunitz,  I  beseech  of 
you,''help  nie,  and  earn  thereby  my  gratitude  and  undying  regard  !" 

"Have  I  waited  so  long  for  your  majesty's  regard,  to  earn  it  on 
account  of  a  sillv  peasant?"  said  Kaunitz,  with  a  hitter  smile.  "I 
hope  that  I  shall  have  a  niche  in  the  temple  of  the  world's  esteem, 
even  if  I  do  fail  Hn  finding  the  daughter  of  Conrad  the  boor.  If 
your  majesty  has  never  esteemed  me  before,  you  will  not  begin  to 
do  so  to-day.  and  as  regards  your  promised  gratitude,  the  whole 
world  knows,  and  yoiu-  majesty  also  knows,  that  I  am  not  to  be 
bribed  ;  but  I  am  ready,  from  the  depths  of  my  own  attachment  to 
you,  to  do  all  that  I  can  to  help  you." 

"  Kaunitz, "  said  the  emperor,  offering  him  his  hand,  "  you  intend 
to  force  me  to  love  you. " 


JL-IRIANNE'S  DISAPPEARANCE.  219 

"If  I  ever  did  force  your  majesty  to  love  me,"  replied  Kaunitz, 
with  animation,  "I  should  count  it  the  happiest  daj'  of  my  life. 
If  I  ever  succeed  in  winning  j'our  confidence,  then  I  may  hope  to 
complete  the  work  I  have  begun — that  of  uniting  your  majesty's 
dominions  into  one  great  whole,  before  which  all  Europe  shall  bow 
in  reverence. " 

"  Let  us  speak  of  other  things, "  interrupted  the  emperor.  "  Help 
me  to  find  Marianne." 

"  Allow  me  one  question,  then — am  I  the  only  person  to  whom 
your  majesty  has  spoken  on  this  subject?" 

"No,  I  have  spoken  to  one  other  man.  I  have  consulted  the 
shrewdest  detective  in  all  Vienna,  and  have  promised  him  a  large 
reward  if  he  will  serve  me.  He  came  to  me  this  morning.  He  had 
discovered  nothing,  bvit  gave  me  to  understand  that  it  was  you  who 
had  betrayed  me  to  the  empress. " 

"What  is  his  name,  your  majesty?" 

"  Eberhard.     He  has  sworn  to  unravel  the  mystery  for  me, " 

"Then  it  certainly  will  be  unravelled,  for  he  it  is  who  has  been 
tracking  j'our  majesty,  and  who  has  been  the  means  of  betraying 
you  to  the  empress.  I,  too,  have  been  giving  him  gold,  with  this 
difference,  tbat  your  majesty  ti'usted  him,  and  I  did  not.  He  is  at 
the  bottom  of  the  whole  plot. " 

The  emperor  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  hastened  to  the  door. 
Kaunitz  followed,  and  ventured  to  detain  him. 

"  I  must  go, "  cried  Joseph,  impatiently.  "  I  must  force  Eberhard 
to  tell  me  what  has  been  done  with  Marianne. " 

"You  will  not  lind  him.     He,  too,  has  disappeai'ed." 

"  Then  I  must  go  to  the  empress  to  beg  her  to  be  merciful  to  that 
poor  cliild  who  is  suffering  on  my  account.  I  will  exact  it  of 
her. " 

"That  will  only  make  the  matter  worse." 

Joseph  stamiied  his  foot,  and  uttered  a  cry  of  fury. 

"  What  must  I  do,  then  ?"  exclaimed  he. 

"Be  silent  and  affect  indifference.  As  soon  as  the  empress  be- 
lieves that  you  have  grown  careless  on  the  girl's  account,  she  will 
begin  to  think  that  she  has  taken  the  matter  too  seriously  to  heart. 
Conrad  must  sell  his  farm,  and  remove  far  away  from  Vienna. 
Once  settled,  let  1dm  come  and  claim  his  daughter,  and  the  empress 
will  be  veiy  glad  to  be  rid  of  her.     Do  this,  and  all  will  be  right." 

Joseph  frowned,  and  seemed  reluctant  to  follow  this  advice. 
Kaunitz  saw  his  unwillingness,  and  continued  : 

"This  is  the  only  means  of  restoring  the  girl  to  peace  of  mind, 
and  your  majesty  owes  her  this  reparation.  The  poor  thing  has 
been  rudely  precipitated  from  the  clouds ;  and  as  the  comedy  is 
over,  the  best  thing  we  can  do  for  her  is  to  convince  her  that  it  is  a 
comedy,  and  that  the  curtain  has  fallen.  Your  majest}',  however, 
must  not  again  laj^  your  imperial  hand  upon  the  simple  web  of  her 
destiny  :  leave  it  to  your  inferiors  to  gather  up  its  broken  threads. 
Go  away  from  Vienna ;  travel,  and  seek  recreation.  Leave  Mari- 
anne to  me,  and  I  swear  to  you  that  I  will  rescue  and  befriend  her. 
When  you  have  gone,  I  shall  go  to  the  empress  and  relate  the  whole 
story.  I  shall  tell  all  the  truth  ;  Maria  Theresa  has  a  noble,  gener- 
ous heart ;  and  she  will  not  do  any  injury  to  the  one  who  was 
instrumental  in  saving  the  life  of  her  darling  son.  She  will  do 
any  thing  for  her  happiness,   provided  it  do  not  compromise  the 


220  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

honor  of  her  imperial  house.     And  she  is  right.     But  you  must  go, 
and  once  gone,  Marianne  shall  be  free. " 

"  Free  not  only  from  others,  but  from  me  also, "  said  the  emperor, 
deeply  affected.  "I  feel  I  have  erred  toward  this  innocent  young 
girl.  I  have  deeply  sinned  ;  for,  regardless  of  her  peace  of  mind,  I 
have  allowed  myself  to  dream  of  a  love  that  could  bring  naught  but 
misery  to  both.  For  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  my  friend,  how 
much  it  costs  me  to  renounce  this  sweet  creature,  and  to  promise 
that  I  will  see  her  no  more.  My  intercourse  with  her  was  the  last 
dying  sigh  of  a  love  which  has  gone  from  my  heart  forevermore. 
But— it  must  be  sacrificed.  Rescue  her,  and  try  to  make  her  happy, 
Kaimitz ;  try  to  efface  from  her  heart  the  memory  of  my  blasting 

love. " 

"I  promise  to  free  her,  but  I  cannot  promise  to  rescue  her  from 
the  memory  of  your  majesty's  love.  Who  knows  that  from  the  ring 
which  she  has  sworn  to  wear  forever,  she  may  not  have  inhaled  a 
poison  that  will  shorten  her  young  life?  To  rescue  her  from  such  a 
fate  lies  not  in  the  power  of  man.  Time— the  great  comforter — 
may  heal  her  wounds,  but  your  majesty  must  promise  never  to  ask 
whither  she  has  gone.     For  you  she  must  be  dead. " 

"  I  promise,  on  my  imperial  honor,  never  to  see  her  again, "  said 
Joseph,  in  a  faltering  voice.  "  I  will  leave  to-morrow.  Thank  God, 
the  world  is  wide  ;  and,  far  away  from  Vienna,  I,  too,  can  seek  for 
oblivion,  and,  perchance,  for  another  ray  of  earthly  liappiuess. " 

And  so  ended  the  pastoral  of  the  emperor  and  the  village  maid. 


CHAPTER     LII. 

COUNT    FALKENSTEIN. 

"  Away  with  care  and  sorrow  !  Away  with  royalty  and  state  !" 
cried  the  emperor,  as  the  long  train  of  wagons,  whicli  had  accom- 
panied him  from  Vienna,  were  disappearing  in  the  distance. 

The  empress  had  caused  preparation  for  her  son's  journey  to  be 
made  with  imperial  pomp.  A  brilliant  cortege  of  nobles  and  gentle- 
man had  followed  the  emperor's  caleche,  and  behind  them  came 
twleve  wagons  with  beds,  cooking  utensils,  and  provisions— the 
whole  gotten  up  with  true  princely  magnificence. 

The  emperor  had  said  nothing,  and  had  left  Vienna  amid  the 
chiming  of  bells  and  the  loud  greetings  of  the  people.  For  two  days 
he  submitted  to  the  tedious  pageants  of  public  receptions,  stupid 
addresses,  girls  in  white,  and  flower-decked  arches;  but  on  the 
morning  of  the  third  day,  two  couriers  announced  not  only  to  the 
discomfited  gtiutlemen  composing  his  suite,  but  to  the  conductors 
of  the  provision-traiu,  that  the  emperor  would  excuse  them  from 
further  attendance. 

Everybody  was  astonished,  and  everybody  was  disai)pointed. 
The  emperor,  meanwhile,  stood  by  laughing,  until  the  la.st  wagon 
was  out  of  sight. 

"Away  with  sorrow  and  care!"  cried  he,  ap])roaching  his  two 
carriage  companions,  Counts  Rosenberg  and  Coronini.  "Now,  my 
friends,"  exclaimed  he,  putting  a  liand  upon  the  shoulder  ()f  each 
one,  "now  the  world  is  ours!  L(>t  us  enjoy  our  rich  inheritance! 
ijut— bless  me,   how  forlorn  you  both  look  !     What  is  the  matter? 


COUNT  FALKENSTEIN.  221 

liave  I  been  mistaken  in  supposing  you  would  relish  my  plan  of 
travel?" 

"  No,  your  majesty, "  replied  Rosenberg,  with  a  forced  smile, 
"  but  I  am  afraid  you  will  scarcely  relish  it  yourself.  You  have 
parted  with  every  convenience  that  makes  travelling  endurable." 

"Your  majesty  will  have  to  put  up  with  many  a  sorry  dinner  and 
many  an  uncomfortable  bed, "  sighed  Coronini. 

"  I  am  tired  of  comforts  and  conveniences, "  rejoined  the  emperor, 
laughing,  "and  I  long  for  the  variety  of  privation.  But,  in  my 
thoughtlessness,  I  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  you,  too,  were  weary 
of  grandeur,  and  would  like  to  get  a  taste  of  ordinary  life.  If  I  am 
mistaken,  you  are  free  to  return  with  luy  discharged  cortege ;  I 
force  no  one  to  share  my  hardships.  Speak  quickly,  for  there  is  yet 
time  for  me  to  select  other  fellow-travellers." 

"  No,  no,  your  majesty, "  said  Rosenberg  gayly,  "  I  will  go  whither 
you  go,  and  share  your  privations  !" 

"  Here  I  stay,  to  live  and  die  at  your  majesty's  side  !"  cried  Coro- 
nini, with  comic  fervor. 

The  emperor  nodded.  "Thank  you  both,  my  friends;  I  had 
counted  upon  you,  and  would  have  regretted  your  refusal  to  go  with 
me.  Thank  Heaven,  we  are  no  longer  under  the  necessity  of  parad- 
ing our  rank  about  the  world  !  I  cannot  express  to  you  the  joy  I 
feel  at  the  prospect  of  going  about  unnoticed,  like  any  other  man." 

"That  joy  will  be  denied  your  majesty,"  said  Rosenberg,  with  a 
slight  inclination.  "  The  Emperor  Joseph  can  never  go  unnoticed, 
like  ordinary  men." 

"Do  not  hope  it,  your  majesty!"  cried  Coronini.  "Your  maj- 
esty's rank  is  stamped  upon  your  brow,  and  you  cannot  hide  it." 

The  emperor  looked  down  on  the  sandy  hillock  on  which  they 
stood,  then  upward  at  the  bright-blue  sky  above  their  heads. 

"Are  we  then  under  the  gilded  dome  of  my  mother's  palace," 
said  he,  after  a  pause,  "  that  I  should  still  hear  the  language  of 
courtly  falsehood?  Awake,  my  friends,  for  this  is  not  Austria's 
imperial  capital !  It  is  the  world  which  God  created,  and  here  upon 
our  mother  earth  we  stand  as  man  to  man.  A  little  shining  beetle 
is  creeping  on  my  boot  as  familiarly  as  it  would  on  the  sabot  of  a 
base-born  laborer.  If  my  divine  right  were  written  upon  my  brow, 
would  not  the  insects  acknowledge  my  sovereignty,  as  in  Eden  they 
acknowledged  that  of  Adam  ?  But  no  ! — The  little  creature  spreads 
its  golden  wings  and  leaves  me  without  a  sign.  Happy  beetle ! 
Would  that  I  too  had  wings,  that  I  might  flee  away  and  be  at  rest !" 

The  emperor  heaved  a  sigh,  and  his  thoughts  evidently  wandered 
far  away  from  the  scene  before  him.  But  presently  recalling  him- 
self, he  spoke  again.     Pointing  to  the  sky,  he  said  : 

"  And  now,  friends,  look  above  you  where  the  heavens  enthrone  a 
Jehovah,  in  whose  sight  all  men  are  equal ;  and  so  long  as  we  dwell 
together  under  the  open  sky,  remember  him  who  has  said,  'Thou 
shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me  ! ' " 

"  But,  your  majesty — " 

"  Majesty  !  Wliere  is  any  majesty  here  ?  If  I  were  a  lion,  to  shake 
the  forests  with  my  roar,  I  might  ])retend  to  majesty  among  the 
brutes;  but  you  see  that  I  am,  in  all  things,  like  yourself — neither 
nobler  nor  greater  than  you.  In  Vienna  I  am  your  sovereign  :  so 
be  it ;  but  while  we  travel,  I  am  simply  Count  Falkenstein.  I  beg 
you  to  respect  this  name  and  title,  for  the  Falkensteins  are  an  older 


222  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

race  of  nobles  than  the  Hapsburgs,  and  the  turreted  castle  of  niy 
ancestors,  the  counts,  is  one  of  the  oldest  in  Germauy.  Away, 
then,  with  royalty !  I  ask  for  admittance  into  j'our  own  rank. 
Will  you  accept  me,  and  promise  that  we  shall  be  on  terms  of 
equality  ?" 

He  offered  a  hand  to  each  of  his  friends,  and  would  not  permit 
them  to  do  otherwise  than  press  it,  in  token  of  assent. 

"Now  let  me  tell  you  my  plans.  We  travel  like  three  happy 
fellows,  bent  upon  recreation  alone.  We  go  and  stay  as  it  bestsuil.s 
us  ;  when  we  ai'e  hungry,  we  will  dine  ;  when  we  are  tired,  we  will 
sleep.  A  little  straw  will  make  our  beds,  and  our  cloaks  shall  keep 
us  warm.*  lu  Florence  I  shall  be  forced  to  play  the  emperor,  us 
the  reigning  duke  is  my  brother  ;  but  he,  too,  will  join  us,  and  then 
we  shall  all  go  on  travelling  incognito.  First  we  visit  Rome,  theu 
Naples.  We  must  find  out  whether  oar  sister  Caroline  has  taught 
her  lazzaroni-king  to  read  and  write;  and  when  we  shall  have 
learned  something  of  her  domestic  life,  we  will  turn  our  faces  home- 
ward. In  Milan  I  inust  again  play  the  emperor,  for  Lombardy  needs 
my  protection,  and  I  must  give  it.  From  Lombardy  I  return  to 
Vienna.     Does  the  route  j)lease  you?" 

"  Exceedingly,  count, "  replied  Rosenberg. 

"It  does,  indeed,  your  highness,"  added  Coronini. 

"And  why,  my  highness  V"  asked  Joseph,  laughing. 

"Because  the  Counts  of  Falkenstein  were  princes,  and  the  title 
being  appropriate,  I  hope  your  majesty  will  allow  me  to  use  it." 

"I  regret  very  much,  most  worthy  master-of-ceremonies-itiuei- 
aut,  that  I  cannot  do  so.  Pack  up  your  court -manners,  Coronini, 
and  carry  them  in  your  trunk  until  we  get  back  to  Vienna. " 

"So  be  it,  then,"  sighed  Coronini,   "since  your  m ,  I  mean 

my  lord  count,  will  have  it  so,  we  must  be  content  to  have  you 
hidden  under  a  cloud,  like  Jupiter,  when  he  made  acquaintance 
withlo." 

"  By  Jupiter,  Coronini,  you  are  ambitious  in  your  similes, "  replied 
the  emperor,  laughing.     "You  look  very  much  like  lo,  do  you  not?" 

"  I  hope  we  may  be  as  lucky  as  the  gods, "  interrupted  Rosenberg, 
"  for  every  time  they  visited  the  earth  they  were  sure  to  fall  in  willi 
all  the  pretty  women. " 

"True;  but  mythology  teaches  that  the  women  who  aspired  to 
love  gods,  forfeited  both  happiness  and  life,"  replied  the  emperor, 
with  a  touch  of  sadness  in  his  voice.  "But  i)shaw  !"  continued  he, 
suddenly,  "  what  do  I  say  V  Away  with  retrospection  !  Let  us  come 
out  of  the  clouds,  and  a])proach,  both  of  you,  while  I  intrust  you 
with  a  great  secret — I  am  Inmgry. " 

The  two  c-ounts  started  in  breatliless  haste  for  the  carriage,  near 
which  the  eniperor's  valet  and  tlie  i)Ostilion  were  in  earnest  conver- 
sation ;  but  they  returned  with  very  long  faces. 

"  Count, "  said  Rosenberg,  sadly,  "  we  have  nothing  to  eat. " 

"  The  valet  says  that  Count  Falkentstein  ordered  every  thing  to 
be  sent  back  to  Vioima  e.\-ce])t  our  trunks,"  sighed  Coronini.  "All 
the  wine,  bread,  game,  and  delicacies  remained  in  the  wagons." 

"Very  well,"  cried  tlie  emperor,  laughing  lieartily  at  the  contre- 
temps, "let  us  go  and  ask  for  dinner  in  yonder  village  behind  the 
wood. " 

*Tho  emperor,  diirinp;  his  tour  as  Count  Falkonsteiii,  repeatedly  slept  on  straw, 
over  wliirh  a  leatheru  cover  w;is  spread,     llubiier,  i.,  p.  43. 


WHAT  THEY  FOUND  AT  WICHERN.  223 

"  The  postilion  says  that  there  is  not  a  public  house  anywhere 
about, "  continued  Coronini,  in  great  distress.  "  He  says  that  we 
will  find  nothing  to  eat  in  the  village." 

Instead  of  making  a  reply,  the  emperor  walked  to  the  hillock, 
and  questioned  the  postilion  himself. 

"What  is  the  name  of  the  village  beyond  the  forest?"  asked  he. 

"  Wichern,  your  majesty". " 

"  Do  we  change  horses  there  ?" 

"No,  your  majesty,  we  harness  up  at  Unterbergen. " 

" Can  we  get  any  breakfast  at  Wichern,  think  you?" 

"No,  no,  your  majesty,  not  a  morsel  of  any  thing — none  but 
l^easants  live  in  the  village. " 

"Well,  my  friend,  do  the  peasants  live  without  eating?" 

"Oh,  your  majesty,  they  eat  any  thing !  They  live  on  bread, 
bacon,  eggs,  and  milk,  with  sometimes  a  mess  of  cabbage  or  beans." 

"And  you  call  that  having  nothing  to  eat?"  exclaimed  Joseph, 
hastening  joyfully  back  to  his  friends.  "Come,  come;  we  shall 
find  dinner  at  Wichern,  and  if  nobody  will  cook  for  us,  we  will 
cook  for  ourselves. " 

Coronini  opened  his  eyes  like  full  moons. 

"Why  do  you  stare  so,  Coronini?  Are  not  all  soldiers  cooks?  I, 
at  least,  am  re.solved  to  learn,  and  I  feel  beforehand  that  I  shall  do 
honor  to  myself.  Cook  and  butler,  I  shall  fill  both  ofiices.  Come, 
we  are  going  to  enjoy  ourselves.  Thomas,  tell  the  postilion  to  drive 
as  far  as  the  entrance  of  the  village.     We  will  forage  on  foot. " 

The  emperor  bovinded  into  the  carriage,  the  two  noblemen  fol- 
lowed, the  postilion  cracked  his  whip,  and  they  were  soon  at 
Wichern. 


CHAPTER    LIU. 

WHAT  THEY  FOUND   AT  WICHERN. 

The  carriage  stopped,  and  before  the  valet  had  had  time  to  open 
the  door,  the  emperor  leaped  to  the  ground. 

"Come,"  said  he,  merrily,  "come  and  seek  your  fortunes. 
Thomas,  you  remain  with  the  carriage.  Drive  under  the  shade  of 
tliat  tree  and  wait  for  our  retvirn.  Before  all  things,  I  forbid  you 
to  tell  anybody  who  we  are.  From  this  day  forward,  my  name  is 
Count  Falkenstein.  Mark  me !  I  expect  you  to  preserve  my 
incognito. " 

"I  will  obey  you,  my  lord  count,"  said  the  valet,  with  a  bow. 

The  emperor  with  his  two  companions  walked  toward  the  village. 
Nothing  very  hopeful  was  to  be  seen  as  they  looked  up  the  dirty 
little  streets.  The  wretched  mud  cottages  stood  each  one  apart, 
their  yards  separated  by  scraggy  willow-hedges,  upon  which  ragged 
old  garments  were  hanging  in  the  sun  to  dry.  Between  the  hedges 
were  muddy  pools,  over  which  the  ducks  were  wrangling  for  the 
bits  of  weed  that  floated  on  the  surface  of  the  foul  waters.  On 
their  borders,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  rubbisli  and  kitchen-offal 
that  lay  about  in  heaps,  dirty,  half-naked  children,  with  straw- 
colored  hair,  tumbled  over  one  another,  or  paddled  in  the  water. 
In  the  farm-yards  around  the  dung-heaps,  the  youngest  children  of 
the  cottagers  kept  company  with  the  sow  and  her  grunting  pigs. 


224  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

Before  tlie  slovenly  entrances  of  the  huts  here  and  theio  sat  dirtj% 
unseemlj'  old  men  and  women,  who  stared  at  the  three  strangers  as 
they  surveyed  the  uninviting  picture  before  them. 

"I  congratulate  the  emperor  that  he  is  not  obliged  to  look  upon 
this  sliocking  scene, "  said  Joseph.  "  I  am  glad  that  his  people  can- 
not cry  out  to  him  for  help,  since  help  for  such  squalor  as  this  there 
is  none  on  earth. " 

"  They  are  not  as  wretched  as  you  suppose, "  said  Rosenberg. 
"  These  people  are  scarcely  above  the  brute  creation  ;  and  they  know 
of  nothing  better  than  the  existence  which  is  so  shocking  to  you. 
They  were  born  and  bred  in  squalor,  and  provided  their  pastures 
yield  forage,  their  hens  lay  eggs  and  their  cows  give  milk, they  live 
and  die  contented." 

"If  so,  they  are  an  enviable  set  of  mortals,"  replied  Joseph, 
laughing,  "and  we,  who  require  so  much  for  our  comfort,  are 
poorer  than  they.  But  as  there  is  no  help  for  our  poverty,  let  us 
think  of  dinner.  Here  are  three  streets  ;  the  village  seems  to  have 
been  divided  for  our  especial  accommodation.  Each  one  shall  take 
a  street,  and  in  one  hour  from  now  we  meet  at  the  carriage,  each 
man  with  a  dish  of  contribution.  Eji  avant !  I  take  the  street  be- 
fore me  ;  you  do  the  same.     Look  at  your  watches,  and  be  punctual. " 

So  saying,  he  waved  his  hand  and  hastened  forward.  The  same 
solitude  and  misery  met  his  view  as  he  walked  on  ;  the  same  ducks, 
liens,  sows,  and  tiunbling  children  ;  with  now  and  then  the  shrill 
treble  of  a  scolding  woman,  or  the  melancholy  lowing  of  a  sick  cow. 

"  I  am  curious  now, "  thought  the  emperor,  "  to  know  how  and 
where  I  am  to  find  my  dinner.  But  stay — here  is  a  cottage  less 
slovenly  than  its  neighbors  ;  I  shall  tempt  my  fortunes  there. " 

He  opened  the  wicker  gate  and  entered  the  yard.  The  lazy  sow 
that  lay  on  the  dunghill  grunted,  but  took  no  further  notice  of  the 
imperial  intruder.  He  stopped  before  the  low  cottage  door  and 
knocked,  but  no  one  came.  The  place  seemed  silent  and  deserted  ; 
not  the  faintest  hum  of  life  was  to  be  heard  from  witliiu. 

"  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  going  in  without  awaiting  an  invita- 
tion, "  said  the  emperor,  pushing  open  the  door  and  entering  the 
cottage.  But  he  started  at  the  unexpected  sight  that  met  his  view 
as  lie  looked  around  the  room.  It  was  a  miserable  place,  cold  and 
bare  ;  not  a  chair  or  any  other  article  of  household  furniture  was  to 
be  seen  ;  but  in  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  a  small  deal  coffin,  and 
in  the  coffin  was  the  corpse  of  a  child.  Still  and  cold,  beautiful  and 
trancpiil,  lay  the  babe,  a  smile  still  lingering  around  its  mouth, 
while  its  half-open  eyes  seemed  fixed  upon  the  wliite  roses  that  were 
clasped  in  its  little  dimpled  hands.  The  coffin  lay  in  the  midst  of 
fiowers,  and  within  slept  the  dead  child,  transfigured  and  glorified. 

The  emperor  advanced  softly  and  bent  over  it.  He  looked  with 
tender  sympathy  at  tlie  little  marble  image  which  yesterday  was  a 
poor,  ragged  peasant,  to-day  was  a  bright  and  winged  angel.  His 
thoughts  flew  back  to  the  imperial  palace,  where  his  little  motherless 
daughter  was  fading  away  from  earth,  and  the  father  prayed  for  his 
only  child.  He  took  from  the  passive  hands  a  rose,  and  softly  as 
he  came,  he  left  the  solitary  cottage,  wherein  an  angel  was  keeping 
watc'h. 

He  passed  over  to  the  neighboring  yard.  Here,  too,  everything 
seemed  to  be  at  rest ;  but  a  savory  odor  saluted  the  nostrils  of  the 
noble  adventurer  which  at  least  betokened  the  presence  of  beings  who 


WHAT  THEY  FOUND  AT   WICHERN.  225 

hungered  and  thirsted,  and  had  some  regard  for  the  creature  comforts 
of  life. 

"Ah!"  said  the  emperor,  drawing  in  the  fragrant  smell,  "that 
savors  of  meat  and  greens, "  and  he  hurried  through  the  house  to  the 
kitchen.  Sure  enough,  there  blazed  a  roaring  fire,  and  from  the 
chimney-crane  hung  the  steaming  pot  whence  issued  the  delightful 
aroma  of  budding  dinner.  On  the  hearth  stood  a  young  woman  of 
cleanly  api^earance,  who  was  stirring  the  contents  of  the  pot  with  a 
great  wooden  spoon. 

"Good-morning,  madame, "  said  the  emperor,  in  a  loud,  cheerful 
voice.  The  woman  started,  gave  a  scream,  and  turned  her  glowing 
face  to  the  door. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  coming  into  strange  people's  houses  and 
frightening  them  so?"  cried  she,  angrily.  "Nobody  asked  you  in,  I 
ana  sure." 

"Pardon  me,  madame,"  said  the  emperor.  "I  was  urgently 
invited. " 

"  I  should  like  to  know  who  invited  you,  for  nobody  is  here  but 
myself,  and  /don't  want  you. " 

"  Yes,  madame ;  but  your  steaming  kettle,  I  do  assure  you,  has 
given  me  a  pressing  invitation  to  dine  here." 

"Oh  !  you  are  witty,  are  you?  Well,  carry  your  wits  elsewhere  ; 
they  won't  serve  you  here.  My  kettle  calls  nobody  but  those  who 
are  to  eat  of  my  dinner. " 

"  That  is  the  very  thing  I  want,  madame.  I  want  to  eat  of  your 
dinner."  As  he  sjioke,  the  emperor  kept  advancing  until  he  came 
close  upon  the  kettle  and  its  tempting  contents ;  but  the  peasant- 
woman  pushed  him  rudely  back,  and  thrusting  her  broad  person  be- 
tween himself  and  the  coveted  pot,  she  looked  defiance  at  him,  and 
broke  out  into  a  torrent  of  abuse. 

The  emperor  laughed  aloud.  "  I  don't  wish  to  rob  you, "  said  he. 
"I  will  pay  you  handsomely  if  you  will  only  let  me  have  your  din- 
ner.    What  have  you  in  that  pot?" 

"That  is  none  of  your  business.  With  my  bacon  and  beans  you 
have  no  concern." 

"  Bacon  and  beans  !  Oh,  my  craving  stomach  !  Here,  take  this 
piece  of  gold  and  give  me  some  directly." 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool,  to  sell  my  dinner  just  as  the  men 
will  be  coming  from  the  field?" 

"By  no  means  for  a  fool,"  said  the  emperor,  soothingly  ;  "but  if 
you  show  the  men  that  golden  ducat  they  will  wait  patiently  until 
you  cook  them  another  dinner.  Your  husband  can  buy  himself  a 
fine  holiday  suit  with  this. " 

"He  has  one,  and  don't  want  two.  Go  your  way  ;  you  shall  not 
have  a  morsel  of  my  dinner.'" 

"Not  if  I  give  you  two  gold  pieces?  Come,  do  be  accommodat- 
ing, and  give  me  the  bacon  and  beans. " 

"  I  tell  you  you  shall  not  have  them, "  screamed  the  termagant. 
"  I  have  no  use  for  your  gold,  but  I  want  my  dinner.  So  be  off  with 
you  !  you  will  get  nothing  from  me  if  you  laeg  all  day  long. " 

"Very  well,  madame;  I  bid  you  good-morning,"  said  Joseph, 
laugliing,  but  inwardly  chagrined  at  his  fiasco.  "  I  must  go  on,  how- 
ever, "  thovight  he  ;  and  he  entered  the  yard  of  the  next  house.  Be- 
fore the  door  sat  a  pale  young  woman,  with  a  new-born  infant  in 
her  arms.     She  looked  up  with  a  languid  smile. 


236  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

"I  am  hungrj^, "  said  Joseph,  after  greeting  her  with  uncovered 
head.     "Have  you  any  thing  good  in  your  kitchen?" 

She  shook  her  head  sadly.  "Iain  a  poor,  weak  creature,  sir, 
and  cannot  get  a  meal  for  my  liusband, "  replied  she  ;  "  he  will  have 
to  cook  his  own  dinner  when  he  comes  home. " 

"And  what  will  he  cook  to-day,  for  instance?" 

"I  suppose  he  will  make  an  omelet ;  for  the  hens  have  been  cack 
ling  a  great  deal  this  morning,  and  an  omelet  is  made  in  a  few 
niinutes. " 

"Is  it?  So  much  the  better,  then;  you  can  show  me  how  to 
make  one,  and  I  will  pay  you  well." 

"Go  in  the  heu-coo}),  sir,  and  see  if  j'ou  find  any  eggs.  My  hus- 
band will  want  three  of  them  ;  the  rest  are  at  your  service." 

"Where  is  the  hen-coop?"  asked  Joseph,  much  pleased. 

"Go  through  the  kitchen  out  into  the  yai-d,  and  you  will  see  a 
little  room  with  a  wooden  bolt ;  that  is  the  hen-coop." 

"I  go,  "cried  Joseph  merrily.  Presently  great  commotion  was 
heard  among  the  hens,  and  the  emj^-ror  returned  with  a  glowing 
face,  his  hair  and  coat  well  sprinkled  witli  straw.  He  came  for- 
ward with  both  hands  full  of  eggs. 

"Here  are  eight,"  said  he.  "Three  for  your  husband,  and  five 
for  me.     Now  tell  me  how  I  must  cook  them." 

"You  will  have  to  go  to  the  kitchen,  sir.  There  you  will  find  a 
flitch  of  bacon.  Cut  off  some  slices,  put  them  in  a  pan  you  will 
see  there,  and  set  it  on  the  fire.  My  neighbor  has  just  now  made 
some  for  poor  John.  Then  look  on  the  dresser  and  take  some  milk 
and  a  little  flour.  Make  a  batter  of  them  witli  the  eggs,  pour  it  upon 
your  bacon,  and  when  the  eggs  are  done,  the  omelet  is  made.  It  is 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world." 

"  My  dear  good  woman,  it  will  be  a  desperately  hard  task  for  me, " 
said  the  emperor  with  a  sigh.  "I'm  afraid  I  shall  make  a  very  poor 
omelet.  Won't  you  come  into  the  kitchen  and  make  it  forme? 
Do,  I  will  pay  you  well." 

"Dear  gentleman,"  said  the  young  woman,  blushing,  "do  you 
think  I  am  so  idle  as  to  sit  here,  if  I  could  get  up  and  help  you?  I 
was  brought  to  bed  yesterday  of  this  baby  ;  and  I  am  svich  a  jjoor, 
sickly  thing  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  get  vip  before  two  days.  As 
the  day  was  briglit,  dear  John  brought  me  and  the  baby  out  here, 
be(;ause  it  was  more  cheerful  on  the  door-sill  than  within.  I  am  a 
weak,  useless  creature,  sir. " 

"Weak!  useless!"  cried  the  emperor,  astounded;  "and  you  ex- 
poet  to  be  up  in  tliree  days  after  your  confinement?  Poor  little 
thing !     Have  j'ou  no  physician  and  no  medicine?" 

"The  Lord  is  my  physician,  sir,"  said  the  simple  creature,  "and 
my  medicine  is  the  fresh  air.  But  let  me  think  of  your  omelet.  If 
you  cannot  make  it  yourself,  just  step  to  the  cottage  on  the  left,  and 
call  my  neighbor.  SIk;  is  very  good  to  me,  and  slie  will  make  your 
omelet  for  you  with  pleasure." 

"A  thousand  tlinnks, "  said  the  emperor,  hastening  to  follow  the 
flirections.  lie  returned  in  a  few  moments  with  a  good-liumorcd, 
healthy  young  woman,  who  went  cheerfully  to  work,  and  the  omelet 
was  soon  made. 

One  hour  after  he  had  parted  from  his  friends,  the  em]ieror 
was  Sf'en  coming  along  the  street  with  a  platter  in  his  hand  and 
a  little  l)ucket   on  his  arm.     He  walked  carefully,  his  eyes  fixed 


WHAT  THEY  FOUND  AT  WICHERN.  227 

upon  his  i^recious  dish,   all  anxiety  lest   it  should  fall   from   his 
hands. 

Thomas  was  thunderstruck.  An  emperor  carrying  an  earthen 
platter  in  his  hand!  He  darted  forward  to  receive  it,  but  Joseph 
motioned  hiui  away. 

"  Don't  touch  me,  Thomas,"  said  he,  "or  I  shall  let  it  fall.  I  in- 
tend to  place  it  with  my  own  hands.  Go,  now,  and  set  the  table. 
Pile  up  some  of  those  Hat  stones,  and  bring  the  carriage  cushions. 
"We  will  dine  under  that  wide-spreading  oak.  Make  haste,  I  am 
very  hungry." 

Off  went  Thomas,  obedient,  though  bewildered  ;  and  he  had  soon 
improvised  a  table,  over  which  he  laid  a  shining  damask  cloth. 
Luckily,  the  emperor's  camp-chest  had  not  been  put  in  the  baggage- 
wagon,  or  his  majesty  would  have  had  to  eat  with  his  fingers.  But 
the  golden  service  was  soon  forthcoming,  with  goblets  of  sparkling 
crystal,  and  three  bottles  of  fine  old  Hungarian  wine. 

"Now,"  said  Joseph  triumphantl}',  '"let  me  place  my  dishes." 
With  these  words  he  put  on  his  platter  and  basket,  with  great  cere- 
mony and  undisguised  satisfaction. 

A  curious  medley  of  wealth  and  poverty  were  these  golden  plates 
and  forks,  with  the  coarse  red  platter,  that  contained  the  hard- 
earned  omelet.  But  tlie  omelet  was  smoking  and  savory,  and  the 
strawberries  were  splendid. 

While  the  emperor  was  enjoying  the  result  of  his  for:  ging  expe- 
dition, Rosenberg  and  Coronini  were  seen  approaching,  each  with 
his  earthen  platter  in  his  hand. 

"The  hour  is  up  and  we  are  here,"  said  Coronini.  "I  have  the 
honor  of  laying  my  dish  at  your  m feet,  count.  " 

"Potatoes!  beautiful  roasted  potatoes!"  cried  Joseph.  "Why, 
count,  you  have  brought  us  a  treat. " 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  it,  my  lord  count ;  for  I  was  threatened  with  a 
broomstick  when  I  tore  it  from  the  hands  of  the  woman,  who  vowed 
I  should  not  have  a  single  potato.  I  dashed  two  ducats  at  her  feet 
and  made  off  with  all  speed  ;  for  the  hour  was  almost  up,  and  I  had 
exhausted  all  my  manners  in  the  ten  houses,  which  I  had  visited  in 
vain,  before  my  successful  raid  upon  hers. " 

"And  will  not  my  lord  count  cast  an  eye  upon  my  dish?"  asked 
Rosenberg. 

"He  has  obtained  that  for  wliich  I  sued  in  vain  !"  cried  Joseph. 
"He  has  actually  brought  bacon  and  beans." 

"But  I  did  not  sue;  I  stormed  and  threatened.  Neither  did  I 
waste  my  gold  to  obtain  my  end.  I  threw  the  woman  a  silver  thaler 
and  plenty  of  abuse  in  the  bargain. " 

"Let  us  be  seated!"  said  the  emperor,  "and  pray  admire  my 
omelet  and  my  strawberries.  Now,  Coronini,  the  strawberries  are 
tempting,  but  before  you  taste  them,  I  must  tell  you  that  they  are 
tainted  with  treason  :  treason  toward  my  own  sacred  person.  Re- 
flect well  before  you  decide  to  eat  them.  What  I  am  going  to  relate 
is  as  terrible  as  it  is  true.  While  my  omelet  was  cooking,  I  strolled 
out  into  the  road  to  see  if  there  was  any  thing  else  in  Wichern  be- 
sides poultry,  pigs,  and  dirty  children.  Coming  toward  me  I  per- 
ceived a  pretty  little  barefoot  Iwj',  with  a  basket  full  of  i-ed,  luscious 
strawberries.  I  asked  where  he  was  going.  He  said  to  the  neigh- 
boring village  to  sell  his  strawberries  to  the  farmer's  wife,  who  had 
ordered  them.     I  offered  to  buy  them,  but  my  gold  could  not  tempt 


228  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

the  child — he  refused  peremptorily  to  sell  them  to  me  at  any  price. 
I  argued,  pleaded,  threatened  ;  all  to  no  pui-pose.  At  length,  seeing 
there  was  no  other  alternative,  I  snatched  his  strawberries  away, 
threw  him  a  ducat,  and  walked  off  with  the  prize.  He  picked  up 
the  gold,  but  as  he  did  so,  he  saluted  my  imperial  ears  with  an 
epithet — sucli  an  epithet !  Oh,  you  will  shudder  when  you  hear 
what  language  the  little  rascal  vised  to  his  sovereign  !  You  never 
will  be  able  to  bear  it,  Coronini :  you,  whose  loyalty  is  offended 
every  time  you  address  me  as  Count  Falkenstein.  I  only  wonder 
that  the  sun  did  not  liide  its  head,  and  the  earth  ti'emble  at  the  sac- 
rilege !  What  do  you  suppose  he  called  me? — An  ass!  He  did,  I 
assure  you.  That  little  bare-legged  boy  called  his  emperor  an  ass  ! 
Now,  Coronini,  do  you  think  you  can  taste  of  the  strawberries  that 
were  gathered  by  those  treacherous  little  hands?" 

"If  my  lord  count  allows  it,  I  will  venture  to  eat,"  replied  Coro- 
nini, "  for  I  really  think  there  was  no  treason  committed. " 

"  Why  !  not  when  he  called  me  an — " 

"  Pray  do  not  say  it  again, "  entreated  Coronini,  raising  his  hands 
deprecatingly ;  "  it  cvits  me  to  the  heart.  But  Count  Falkenstein 
had  already  proclaimed  that  no  majesty  was  by,  and  when  no 
majesty  was  there,  no  majesty  could  be  insulted." 

"  Oh,  you  sophist !  Did  you  not  say  that  I  wore  my  title  upon 
my  brow?  Did  you  not  tell  me  that  I  could  not  hide  my  majesty 
from  the  sons  of  men?  But  I  forgive  you,  and  the  boy  also.  Let  us 
drink  his  health  while  we  enjoy  his  strawberries.  Fill  your  glasses 
to  the  brim,  and  having  done  honor  to  those  who  furnished  our 
repast,  allow  me  to  propose — ourselves  :  To  the  health  of  those  who 
are  about  to  eat  a  dinner  which  they  have  earned  by  the  sweat  of 
their  brow." 

So  saying,  the  emperor  touched  the  glasses  of  his  friends. 

"  Now,  postilion, "  cried  he,  before  they  drank,  "  blow  us  a  blast 
on  your  horn — a  right  merry  blast !" 

Tlie  postilion  put  the  horn  to  his  lips,  and  while  he  blew  the 
glasses  clinked  gayly  ;  and  the  friends  laughed,  jested,  and  ate 
their  dinner  with  a  relish  they  had  seldom  known  before.* 


CHAPTER    LIV. 

THE    SOMNAMBULIST. 

The  policy  instituted  Iw  Kaunitz,  when  he  became  sole  minister 
of  the  empress,  had  now  culminated  in  the  alliance  of  Austria  witli 
France,  tlirough  tlie  solenm  betrothal  of  the  childish  Marie  Antoi- 
nette with  the  daui)hin.  Tlie  union  was  complete — it  was  to  be 
cemented  by  the  strong  tie  of  intermarriage  ;  and  now,  that  success 
had  crowned  the  schemes  to  wliich  she  had  yielded  such  hearty 
consent,  Maria  Theresa  was  anxious,  restless,  and  vmliappy.  Vainly 
she  strove  to  thrust  from  lier  memory  the  prophecy  which  had  been 
foretold  in  relation  to  tlie  destinies  of  France.  With  anguish  she 
remembered  tlie  cry  of  Marie  Antoinette  ;  with  horror  she  recurred 
to  the  vision  which  had  overcome  Catherine  de  Medicis. 

"It  is  sinful  in  me,"  thought  the  empress,  as  one  morning  she 
left  her  pillow  from  inal)ility  to  sleep.  "God  alone  is  Lord  of 
*  Hubner,  ''  Life  of  Joseph  IL,"  vol.  i.,  page  49. 


THE  SOMNAMBULIST.  229 

futurity,  and  no  human  hand  dare  lift  its  black  curtain  !  But  stay, " 
cried  she,  suddenly  springing  up,  and  in  her  eager  haste  beginning 
to  dress  without  assistance.  "There  is  in  Vienna  a  holy  nun,  who 
is  said  to  be  a  prophetess,  and  Father  Gassner,  to  whom  I  have 
extended  protection,  he,  too,  is  said  at  times  to  enjoy  the  privilege 
of  God's  prophets  of  old.  Perhaps  they  have  been  sent  in  mercy  to 
warn  us,  lest,  in  our  ignorance  of  consequences,  we  stumble  and 
sin. " 

For  some  time  the  empress  walked  up  and  down  her  room,  un- 
decided whether  to  turn  the  sibylline  leaves  or  not.  It  might  be 
sinful  to  question,  it  might  be  fatal  to  remain  ignorant.  Was  it, 
or  was  it  not  the  will  of  God,  that  she  should  pry  into  the  great 
mystery  of  futurity?  Surely  it  could  not  be  sinful,  else  why  should 
He  have  given  to  His  servants  the  gift  of  prophecy? 

"  I  will  go  to  the  Ursuline  nun, "  concluded  she,  "  and  Father 
Gassner  shall  come  to  me. " 

She  rang,  and  ordered  a  carriage,  with  no  attendant  but  her  first 
lady  of  honor.  "No  footman,  no  outriders,  but  a  simple  court 
equipage  ;  and  inform  Father  Gassner  that  in  one  hour  I  shall  await 
him  in  the  palace. " 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  the  carriage  of  the  empress  was  at  the 
gate  of  the  Ursuline  Convent.  Completely  disguised  in  a  long  black 
cloak,  with  her  face  hidden  under  a  thick  veil,  Maria  Theresa 
leaped  eagerly  to  the  ground. 

Her  attendant  was  about  to  follow,  but  the  empress  motioned 
her  to  remain.  "  Await  me  here, "  said  she,  "  I  do  not  wish  to  be 
known  in  the  convent.  I  am  about  to  imitate  ray  son,  and  visit  my 
subjects  incognito. " 

The  porteress,  who  had  recognized  the  imperial  liveries,  made  no 
opposition  to  the  entrance  of  the  tall,  veiled  figure.  She  supposed 
her  to  be  some  lady  of  the  empress's  household,  and  allowed  her  to  pass 
at  once  into  the  hall,  following  her  steps  with  undisguised  curiosity. 

She  had  already  ascended  the  staircase,  when  she  turned  to  the 
porteress. 

"In  which  cell  is  the  invalid  nun?"  asked  she. 

"Your  highness  means  Sister  Margaret,  the  somnambulist?" 
asked  the  porteress.  "  She  has  been  taken  to  the  parlor  of  the  abbess, 
for  the  convenience  of  the  many  who  visit  her  now." 

"  Does  she  pretend  to  reveal  the  futixre?" 

"  It  would  make  your  highness's  hair  stand  on  end  to  hear  her ! 
She  has  been  asleep  this  morning,  and  do  you  know  what  she  said 
in  her  sleep.  She  prophesied  that  the  convent  would  be  honored 
by  a  visit  from  the  empress  on  this  very  day. " 

"Did  she,  indeed?"  faltered  Maria  Theresa.  "Wlien?  How 
long  ago?" 

"About  two  hours  ago,  your  highness.  And  as  she  is  never  mis- 
taken, the  abbess  has  prepared  all  things  for  her  majestj^'s  reception. 
Doubtless  your  ladyship  has  been  sent  to  announce  her?" 

"You  really  feel  sure  that  she  will  come?" 

"Certainly.  Sister  Margaret's  visions  are  prophetic — we  cannot 
doubt  tliem. " 

The  empress  shuddered,  and  drew  her  cloak  close  around  her. 
"  Gracious  Heaven  !"  thought  she,  "  what  if  she  should  prophesy 
evil  for  mv  child?— It  is  well,"  added  she,  aloud;  "where  shalll 
find  her?"  ' 


230  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Your  highness  has  only  to  turn  to  the  left ;  the  last  door  leads 
into  the  parlor  of  the  abbess. " 

A  deep  silence  reigned  throughout  the  convent.  The  empress 
went  on  through  the  dim,  long  corridor,  now  with  hurried  step  and 
wildly-beating  heart,  now  suddenly  pausing,  faint  and  irresolute, 
to  lean  against  a  pillar,  and  gather  courage  for  the  interview.  As 
sh3  turned  the  corner  of  the  corridor,  a  flood  of  light,  streaming 
through  an  oriel  window,  revived  and  cheered  her.  She  stepped 
forward  and  looked.  The  window  opened  upon  the  chapel,  where 
the  lights  were  burning  upon  the  altar,  and  high  mass  was  about  to 
begin  ;  for  Sister  Margaret  had  said  tliat  the  empress  was  very  near. 

"It  is  true.  They  are  waiting  for  me.  Oh,  she  must  be  a  proph- 
etess, for,  two  hours  ago,  I  had  not  dreamed  of  coming  hither ! 
I  feel  my  courage  fail  me.  I  will  go  back.  I  dare  not  hear,  for  it 
is  too  late. " 

The  empress  turned  and  retraced  her  steps  ;  then  once  more  call- 
ing up  all  her  fortitude,  she  returned.  "  For,  "  thought  she,  "  if  God 
permits  me  to  see,  why  should  I  remain  blind?  He  it  is  who  has 
sent  me  to  this  holy  prophetess.  I  must  listen  for  my  Antoinette's 
sake. " 

A  second  time  she  went  forward,  reached  the  parlor,  and  opened 
the  door.  She  had  scarcely  appeared  on  the  threshold,  cloaked  and 
screened  by  her  thick  black  veil,  when  a  clear  voice,  whose  tones 
were  preterhuman  in  their  melody,  addressed  lier.  "  Hail,  Empress 
of  Austria  !     All  hail  to  her  who  cometh  hither  !" 

"  She  is  indeed  a  proplietess !"  murmured  the  empi-ess.  "  She 
knows  me  through  my  disguise." 

She  approached  the  bed  and  bent  over  it.  The  nun  lay  with 
closed  eyes ;  but  a  heavenly  smile  was  upon  her  lips,  and  a  holy 
light  seemed  to  play  around  lier  pale  but  beavitiful  face.  Not  the 
least  tinge  of  color  was  on  her  cheeks  ;  and  but  for  the  tint  of  car- 
mine upon  her  lips — so  unearthly,  so  serapliic  was  lier  beauty — that 
she  miglit  have  been  mistaken  for  a  sculptor's  dream  of  Azrael,  the 
pale  angel  of  death. 

While  the  empress  gazed  awe-stricken,  the  abbess  and  the  nuns, 
who  liad  been  kneeling  around  the  bed,  arose  to  greet  their  sovereign. 

"Is  it  indeed  our  gracious  empi-essV"  asked  the  abbess. 

Maria  Theresa  withdrew  her  hat  and  veil,  and  revealed  her  pale, 
agitated  face. 

"I  am  tlie  empress,"  said  she,  "but  I  implore  you  let  there  be  no 
ceremony  because  of  my  visit.  In  this  sacred  habitation,  God  alone 
is  great,  and  His  creatures  are  all  e(jual  before  Him.  We  are  iu 
the  presence  of  tlie  servant  to  wliom  He  has  condescended  to  speak, 
while  to  the  sovereigns  of  earth  He  is  silent.  To  Him  alone  belongs 
homage. " 

"  Gracious  empress.  Sister  Margaret  had  announced  your  majesty's 
visit,  and  we  were  to  have  greeted  j'ou  as  becomes  Cliristian  sub- 
jects.    The  cliapcl  is  prepared,  the  altar  is  decked." 

"I  will  repair  hiter  to  the  church,  mother.  At  present,  my  visit 
is  to  Sister  Margaret. " 

"If  so,  your  majesty  must  not  delay.  She  sleeps  but  three  houi's 
at  a  time,  and  she  will  soon  awake.  She  Jias  the  gift  of  jn-ophecy 
in  lier  sleep  only. " 

"Thcn^o,  holy  mother,  and  leave  me  alone  with  her.  Go  and 
await  me  iu  the  church." 


THE  SOMNAMBULIST.  231 

The  abbess  glanced  at  the  clock  on  the  wall.  "  She  will  awake 
in  ten  minutes, "  said  she,  and  with  noiseless  steps  the  nuns  all  left 
the  room. 

The  empress  waited  until  the  door  was  closed  and  the  sound  of 
their  light  footfall  had  died  away  ;  then  again  approaching  the  bed, 
she  called,  "  Sister  Margaret. " 

The  nun  trembled,  and  her  brow  grew  troubled.  "  Oh, "  said  she, 
**  the  angels  have  flown  !  Why  have  you  come  with  your  sad  notes 
of  sorrow  to  silence  the  harmony  of  my  heavenly  dreams?" 

"You  know  then  that  T  am  sad?"  asked  the  empress. 

"  Yes,  your  heart  is  open  to  me.  I  see  your  anguish.  The  mother 
comes  to  me,  not  the  empress. " 

Maria  Theresa  feeling  herself  in  the  presence  of  a  supernatural 
being,  glided  down  upon  her  knees.  "You  are  right,"  said  she,  "it 
is  indeed  a  sorrowing  mother  who  kneels  before  you,  imploring  you, 
in  tlie  humility  of  my  heart,  to  say  what  God  hath  revealed  of  her 
daughter's  fate !" 

"Oh  !"  cried  the  nun,  in  a  voice  of  anguish. 

But  the  empress  went  on.  "My  soul  trembles  for  Marie  Antoi- 
nette. Something  seems  to  warn  me  not  to  trust  my  child  to  the 
foul  atmosphere  of  that  court  of  France,  where  Du  Barry  sits  by  the 
side  of  the  king,  and  the  nobles  pay  her  homage  as  though  she  were 
a  virtuous  queen.  Oh !  tell  me,  holy  sister,  what  will  become  of 
my  Antoinette  in  France?" 

"Oh  !  oh  !"  wailed  the  nun,  and  she  writhed  upon  her  bed. 

" She  is  so  sweet,  so  pure,  so  innocent!"  continued  the  empress. 
"  My  spotless  dove  !  Will  she  soil  her  wings?  Oh,  sister,  speak  to 
me!" 

"Oh  !"  cried  the  nun,  for  the  third  time,  and  the  empress  trem- 
bled, while  her  face  grew  white  as  that  of  the  prophetess. 

"I  am  on  my  knees,"  murmured  she,  "and  I  await  your  answer. 
Sister  Margaret !  Sister  Margaret !  in  the  name  of  God,  wlio  has 
endowed  you  with  superhuman  wisdom,  tell  me  what  is  to  be  the 
fate  of  Marie  Antoinette?" 

"Thou  hast  called  on  the  name  of  God,"  said  the  nun,  in  a 
strange,  clear  voice,  "and  I  am  forced  to  answer  thee.  Thou 
wouldst  know  the  fate  of  Marie  Antoinette?  Hear  it :  She  ivill  live 
through  vutch  evil,  but  tvill  return  to  virtue. "  * 

"She  will  then  cease  to  be  virtuous, "  cried  the  empress,  bursting 
into  tears. 

"She  will  learn  much  evil,"  repeated  the  nun,  turning  uneasily 
on  her  bed.  "She  will  endure — poor  Marie  Antoinette!  Unhappy 
Queen  of  France  !     Woe  '  woe  !" 

"AVoe  unto  me!"  cried  the  wretched  mother.  "Woe  unto  her 
who  leadeth  her  children  into  temptation  !" 

"She  will  return  to  virtue!"  murmured  the  nun,  indistinctly. 
"Poor  Queen— of — France  !" 

With  a  loud  cry  she  threw  out  her  arms,  and  sat  upriglit  in  the 
bed.     Her  eyes  opened,  and  she  looked  around  the  room. 

"Where  is  the  reverend  mother?"  cried  she.  "Where  are  the 
sisters?" 

Suddenly  her  eyes  rested  upon  the  black  and  veiled  figure  of  the 
empress. 

"Who    are    you?"    exclaimed    she.       "Away    with  you,    black 
♦Swinburne,  vol.  i.,  p.  351. 
16 


232  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

• 

shadow  !     I  am  not  yet  dead  !     Not  yet !     Oh,  this  pain  !  this  pain  !" 
and  the  nun  fell  back  upon  her  pillow. 

Maria  Theresa  rose  from  her  knees,  and,  wild  with  terror,  fled 
from  the  room.  Away  she  sped  through  the  long,  dark  corridor  to 
the  window  that  overlooked  the  cliapel,  where  the  nuns  were  await- 
ing her  return — away  down  the  wide  stone  staircase,  through  tlie 
liall,  out  into  the  open  air.  She  hurried  into  the  carriage,  and,  once 
eeated,  fell  back  upon  the  cushions  and  wept  aloud. 


CHAPTER    LY. 

THE  PROPHECY. 

The  empress  spoke  not  a  word  during  the  drive  to  the  palace. 
She  was  so  absorbed  in  her  sorrow  as  to  be  vmconscious  of  the  pres- 
ence of  another  pei'son,  and  she  wept  without  restraint  until  the 
carriage  stopped.  Then,  stifling  her  sobs  and  hastily  drying  her 
tears,  she  dropped  her  veil  and  walked  with  her  usual  majestic  gait 
tlirough  the  palace  halls.  In  her  anteroom  she  met  a  gentleman  in 
waiting  coming  toward  her. 

"  Father  Gassner,  your  majesty. " 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  Here,  so  please  your  majesty. " 

"Let  him  follow  me  into  my  cabinet, "  said  the  empress,  going 
forward,  while  the  courtier  and  the  priest  came  behind.  When  she 
reached  the  door  of  her  cabinet  she  turned.  "Wait  here,"  said  she. 
"  When  I  ring,  I  beg  of  you  to  enter,  fatlier.  The  count  will  await 
your  return  in  this  room." 

She  entered  her  cabinet  and  closed  the  door.  Once  more  alone, 
she  gave  vent  to  her  sorrow.  She  wept  aloud,  and  in  her  ears  she 
seemed  to  hear  the  clear,  metallic  voice  of  the  sick  nun  pealing  out 
those  dreadful  words :  "  Slie  loill  live  throvgh  much  evil,  but  tvill 
return  to  virtue. " 

But  Maria  Theresa  was  no  coward.  She  was  determined  to  mas- 
ter her  credulity. 

"I  am  a  simpleton,"  thought  she.  "I  must  forget  tlie  dreams  of 
a  delirious  nun.  How  could  I  be  so  weak  as  to  imagine  that  God 
would  permit  an  liysterical  invalid  to  prophesy  to  a  sound  and  strong 
woman  like  myself?  I  will  speak  with  Father  Gassner.  Perhai)s 
he  may  see  the  future  differently.  If  he  does,  I  shall  know  that 
they  are  both  false  prophets,  and  their  prophecies  I  shall  throw  to 
the  winds. " 

Strengthened  by  these  reflections,  the  empress  touched  her  bell. 
The  door  opened,  and  Father  Gassner  entered  the  room.  He  bowed, 
and  then  drawing  his  tall,  majestic  figure  to  its  full  lieiglit,  he 
remained  standi Jig  by  the  door,  vvitli  liis  large,  dark-blue  eyes  fixed 
upon  tlie  face  of  the  empress.  She  returned  the  glance.  There 
seemed  to  be  a  strife  between  tlie  eyes  of  tlie  sovereign,  who  was 
accustomed  to  see  others  bend  before  her,  and  tliose  of  the  inspired 
man,  whose  intercourse  was  witli  the  T^ord  of  lords  and  tiie  King  of 
kings.      Kacli  met  the  otli(>r  witli  dignity  and  comjiosure. 

Suddenly  tlie  empress  strode  liaiiglitily  up  to  the  priest  and  said, 
In  a  tone  that  sounded  almost  defiant : 


THE  PROPHECY.  233 

"  Fathei'  Gassner,  have  you  the  courage  to  look  me  in  tlie  face 
and  assert  yourself  to  be  a  prophet?" 

"  It  requires  no  courage  to  avow  a  gift,  which  God,  in  the  super- 
abundance of  His  goodness,  has  bestowed  upon  one  wlio  does  not 
deserve  it, "  replied  the  father,  gently.  "  If  my  eyes  are  opened  to 
see,  or  my  hand  to  heal,  glory  be  to  God  who  has  blessed  them  !  The 
light,  the  grace  are  not  mine,  why  should  I  deny  my  Lord?"  * 

"Then,  if  I  question  you  as  to  the  future,  you  will  answer?" 

"If  it  is  given  to  me  to  do  so,  I  will  answer. " 

"Tell  me,  then,  whether  Antoinette  will  be  happy  in  her 
marriage  ?" 

The  priest  turned  pale,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"Speak,  speak  ;  or  I  will  denounce  3  ou  as  a  false  pi'ophet !" 

"Is  this  the  only  thing  your  majesty  has  to  ask  of  me?" 

"  The  only  one.  " 

"  Then  denounce  me — for  I  cannot  answer  your  majesty. " 

Gassner  turned,  and  his  hand  was  upon  the  lock  of  the  door. 

"Stay!"  cried  the  empress,  haughtily.  "I  command  you,  as 
your  sovereign,  to  speak  the  truth. " 

"  The  trutli  ?"  cried  Gassner,  in  a  voice  of  anguish,  and  his  large 
eyes  opened  with  an  expression  of  horror. 

What  did  he  see  with  those  eyes  that  seemed  to  look  far  out  into 
the  dim  aisles  of  the  terrible  future? 

"The  truth!"  echoed  the  imhappy  mother.  "Tell  me,  will  my 
Antoinette  be  happy  ?" 

Deep  sighs  convulsed  the  breast  of  the  priest,  and,  with  a  look  of 
inexpressible  agony,  he  answered,  solemnly: 

"  Empress  of  Austria,  we  have  all  our  cross  TO  bear  !"  f 

The  empress  started  back,  with  a  cry. 

"Again,  again!"  murmured  she,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands. 
But  suddenly  coming  forward,  her  eyes  flaming  like  those  of  an 
angry  lioness,  she  said  : 

"What  mean  these  riddles?  Speak  out  at  once,  and  tell  me, 
without  equivocation — what  is  to  be  the  fate  of  Antoinette?" 

"  We  have  all  our  cross  to  bear,  "  repeated  the  priest,  "  and 
the  Queen  of  France  will  surely  have  hers." 

With  these  words  he  turned  and  left  the  room. 

Pale  and  rigid,  the  empress  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
murmviring  to  herself  the  two  fearful  prophecies:  "She  will  live 
through  much  evil,  but  will  return  to  virtue." — "We  have  all  our 
cross  to  bear,  and  the  Queen  of  France  will  surely  have  hers. " 

For  a  while  Maria  Theresa  was  overwhelmed  by  the  double  blow 
she  had  received.  But  it  was  not  in  her  nature  to  succumb  to  cir- 
cumstances.    She  must  overmle  them. 

She  rang  her  bell,  and  a  page  entered  the  room. 

"  Let  a  messenger  be  dispatched  to  P'-ince'  Kaunitz,  I  wish  to  see 
his  highness.     He  can  come  to  me  unannounced. " 

Not  long  after  the  prince  made  his  appearance.     A  short  shai-p 


♦Father  Gassner  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  thaumatiirgists  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century.  He  henled  all  sorts  of  disea-'^es  by  the  touch  of  his  hanii.  and  mul- 
titudes flocked  to  him  for  cure.  His  extraordinary  jiowers  displf-ased  the  bishop 
of  his  diocese,  and,  to  avoid  censure.  Father  Gassner  sought  protection  from  the 
empress,  who  held  him  in  great  reverence.  His  prediction  concerning  the  fate  of 
Marie  .'iiitoinette  was  generally  known  long  before  its  accomplishment.  It  was  re- 
lated to  JIadame  Tampan,  by  a  son  of  Kaunitz,  years  before  the  Revolution. 

■tMemoires  de  Madame  Campan,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  14. 


234  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

glance  at  the  agitated  mien  of  the  empress  showed  to  the  experienced 
diplomatist  that  to-day,  as  so  often  before,  he  must  oppose  the  shield 
of  indifference  to  the  storm  of  passion  with  which  he  was  about  to 
contend. 

"  Your  majesty, "  said  he,  "  has  sent  for  me,  just  as  I  was  about  to 
request  an  audience.  I  ana  in  receipt  of  letters  from  the  emperor. 
He  lias  spent  a  day  with  the  King  of  Prussia. " 

He  attempted  to  give  the  letters  into  the  hands  of  the  empress, 
but  she  put  them  back  with  a  gestvire  of  impatience. 

"  Prince  Kaunitz, "  said  she,  "  it  is  you  who  have  done  this — you 
must  undo  it.     It  cannot,  shall  not  be. " 

"What  does  your  majesty  mean?"  asked  Kaunitz,  astonished. 

"I  speak  of  that  which  lies  nearest  my  heart,"  said  the  empress, 
warmly. 

"  Of  the  meeting  of  the  emperor  with  the  King  of  Prussia, "  re- 
turned Kaunitz,  quietly.  "Yesterday  they  met  at  Neisse.  It  was 
a  glorious  interview.  The  two  monarchs  embraced,  and  the  emperor 
remarked — " 

"Enough,  enough!"  cried  Maria  Theresa,  impatiently.  "You 
affect  to  misunderstand  me.  I  speak  of  Antoinette's  engagement  to 
the  dauphin.  It  must  be  broken.  My  daughter  shall  not  go  to 
France. " 

Kaunitz  was  so  completely  astounded,  so  sincerely  astounded, 
that  he  was  speechless.  The  paint  upon  his  face  could  not  conceal 
the  angry  flush  that  colored  it,  nor  his  pet  locks  cover  the  wrinkles 
that  rose  up  to  disfigure  his  forehead. 

"  Do  not  stare  at  me  as  if  you  thought  I  was  parting  with  my 
senses, "  cried  the  empress.  "  I  know  very  well  what  I  say.  I  will 
not  turn  my  innocent  Antoinette  into  that  den  of  corruption.  She 
shall  not  bear  a  cross  from  which  it  is  in  my  power  to  save  her." 

"Who  speaks  of  crosses?"  asked  Kaunitz,  bewildered.  "The 
only  thing  of  which  I  have  heard  is  a  royal  crown  wherewith  her 
brow  is  to  be  decked." 

"  She  shall  not  wear  that  crown  !"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa. 
"God  himself  has  warned  me  through  the  lips  of  His  prophets,  and 
not  unheeded  shall  the  warning  fall. " 

Kaunitz  breathed  more  freely,  and  his  features  resumed  their 
wonted  calmness. 

"If  that  is  all,"  thought  he,  gayly,  "I  shall  be  victorious.  An 
ebullition  of  superstition  is  easily  quieted  by  a  little  good  news." 

"Your  majesty  has  been  following  the  new  fashion,"  said  he, 
aloud;  "you  have  been  consulting  the  fortune-tellers.  I  presume 
you  have  visited  the  nun  who  is  subject  to  pious  hysterics ;  and 
Father  Gassner,  I  see,  has  been  visiting  your  majesty,  for  I  met  him 
as  I  was  coming  to  the  palace.  I  could  not  help  laughing  as  I  saw 
his  absurd  length  of  visage." 

IVIaria  Thei-esa,  in  reply  to  this  irony,  related  the  answers  whicli 
had  been  made  to  her  (piestious. 

Kaunitz  listened  with  sublime  indifference,  and  evinced  not  a 
spark  of  sympathy.  When  tlie  empress  had  concluded  her  story,  he 
merely  said  : 

"What  else,  your  majesty?" 

"What  else  !"  echoed  the  empress,  surprised. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty.  Surely  there  must  be  something  more  than 
a  pair  of  vague  sentences,  a  pair  of  'ohs'  and     ahs, '  and  a  sick  nun 


THE  PROPHECY.  235 

and  a  silly  priest.  These  insignificant  nothings  are  certainly  not 
enough  to  overturn  the  structure  which  for  ten  years  we  have  em- 
ployed all  our  skill  to  build  up. " 

"I  well  know  that  you  are  an  infidel  and  an  unbeliever, 
Kaunitz, "  cried  the  empress,  vexed  at  the  quiet  sneers  of  her  minis- 
ter. "  I  know  you  believe  that  only  which  you  can  understand  and 
explain. " 

"  No,  your  majesty,  I  believe  all  that  is  reasonable.  What  I  can- 
not comprehend  is  unreasonable. " 

The  empress  glanced  angrily  at  his  stony  countenance.  "God 
sometimes  speaks  to  us  through  the  mouths  of  His  chosen  ones, " 
cried  she;  "and,  as  I  believe  in  the  inspiration  of  Sister  Margaret 
and  Father  Gassner,  my  daughter  shall  not  go  to  France. " 

"Is  that  your  majesty's  unalterable  resolution?" 

"  It  is. " 

"Then,"  returned  Kaunitz,  bowing,  "allow  me  to  make  a  request 
for  myself. " 

"Speak  on." 

"Allow  me  at  once  to  retire  from  your  majesty's  service." 

"Kaunitz!"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  "is  it  possible  that  you 
would  forsake  me?" 

"  No,  your  majesty  ;  it  is  you  who  forsake  me.  You  are  willing, 
for  the  sakt;  of  two  crazy  seers,  to  destroy  the  fabric  which  it  has 
been  the  work  of  my  life  to  construct.  Your  majesty  desires  that  I 
should  remain  your  minister,  and  with  my  own  hand  should  undo 
the  web  that  I  have  woven  with  such  trouble  to  myself?  All 
Europe  knows  that  the  French  alliance  is  my  work.  To  this  end  I 
have  labored  by  day  and  lain  awake  by  night ;  to  this  end  I  have 
flattered  and  bribed  ;  to  this  end  I  have  seen  my  friend  De  Choiseul 
disgraced,  while  I  bowed  low  before  his  miserable  successor,  that  I 
might  win  him  and  that  wretched  Du  Barry  to  my  purpose  !" 

"You  are  irretrievably  bent  upon  this  alliance?"  asked  the  em- 
press, thoughtfully.  "  It  was  then  not  to  gratify  me  that  you  sought 
to  place  a  crown  vipou  my  dear  child's  head?" 

"Your  majesty's  wislies  have  always  been  sacred  to  me,  but  T 
should  never  have  sought  to  gratify  them,  had  they  not  been  in 
accordance  with  my  sense  of  duty  to  Austria.  I  have  not  sought  to 
make  a  queen  of  the  Archduchess' Maria  Antoinette.  I  have  sought 
to  unite  Austria  vvith  France,  and  to  strengthen  the  southwestern 
powers  of  Europe  against  the  infidelity  and  barbarism  of  Prussia 
and  Russia.  In  .spite  of  all  that  is  taking  place  at  Neisse,  Austria 
and  Prussia  are,  and  ever  will  be,  enemies.  The  king  and  the  em- 
peror may  fiatter  and  smile,  but  neither  believes  what  the  other  says. 
Frederick  will  never  lose  an  opportunity  of  robbing.  He  ogles 
Russia,  and  would  gladly  see  her  our  'neighbor,'  if  by  so  doing  he 
were  to  gain  an  insignificant  province  for  Prussia.  It  is  to  ward 
off  these  dangerous  accomplices  that  we  seek  alliance  with  France, 
and  through  France,  with  Spain,  Portugal,  and  Italy.  And  now, 
when  the  goal  is  won,  and  the  prize  is  ours,  your  majesty  retracts 
her  imperial  word  !  You  are  the  sovereign,  and  your  will  must  be 
done.  But  I  cannot  lend  my  hand  to  that  which  my  reason  con- 
demns as  unwise,  and  my  conscience  as  dishonoraVjle.  I  beg  of 
your  majesty,  to-day  and  forever,  to  distniss  nie  from  your  service  I" 

The  empress  did  not  make  any  reply.  She  had  risen,  and  was 
walking  hastily  up  and  down,  murmuring  low,  inarticulate  words, 


236  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

and  heaving  deep,  convulsive  sighs.  Kaunitz  followed  her  with 
the  eye  of  a  cool  physician,  who  watches  the  crisis  of  a  brain-fever. 
He  looked  down,  however,  as  tlie  empress,  stopping,  raised  her  dark, 
glowing  eyes  to  his.  When  he  met  her  glance  his  expression  had 
changed  ;  it  had  become  as  usual. 

"  You  have  heard  the  pleadings  of  the  mother, "  said  she,  breath- 
ing hard,  "and  you  have  silenced  them  with  your  cold  arguments. 
The  empress  has  heard,  and  she  it  is  who  must  decide  against  her- 
self. She  has  no  right  to  sacrifice  her  empire  to  her  maternity. 
May  God  forgive  me, "  continued  she,  solemnly  clasping  her  hands, 
"if  I  err  in  quelling  the  voice  of  my  love  which  cries  so  lovidly 
against  this  union.  Let  it  be  accomplished !  Marie  Antoinette 
shall  be  the  bride  of  Louis  XVI. " 

"Spoken  like  the  noble  Empress  of  Austria!"  cried  Kaunitz, 
triumphantly. 

"Do  not  praise  me, "  retvirned  Maria  Theresa  sadly;  "but  hear 
what  I  have  to  say.  You  have  spoken  words  so  bold,  that  it  would 
seem  you  fancy  yourself  to  be  Emperor  of  Austria.  It  was  not  you 
who  sought  alliance  with  France,  but  myself.  You  did  notliing  but 
follow  ovit  my  intentions  and  obey  my  commands.  The  sin  of  my 
refusal,  therefore,  was  nothing  to  you  or  your  conscience — it  rested 
on  my  head  alone. " 

"  May  God  preserve  your  majesty  to  your  country  and  your  sub- 
jects !  May  you  long  be  Austria's  head,  and  I — your  right  hand  !" 
exclaimed  Kaunitz. 

"You  do  not  then  wish  to  retire?"  asked  she,  with  a  languid 
smile. 

"  I  beg  of  your  majesty  to  forgive  and  retain  me. " 

"So  be  it,  then,"  returned  the  empress,  with  a  light  inclination 
of  the  head.  "  But  I  cannot  hear  any  more  to-day.  You  have  no 
sympathy  with  my  trials  as  a  mother.  I  have  sacrificed  my  child 
to  Austria,  l)ut  my  heart  is  pierced  with  sorrow  and  apprehension. 
Leave  me  to  my  tears.  I  cannot  feel  for  any  one  except  my  child — 
my  poor,  innocent  child  !" 

She  turned  hastily  away,  that  he  might  not  see  the  tears  that  were 
already  streaming  down  her  face.  Kaunitz  bowed,  and  left  the 
cabinet  with  liis  usual  cold,  proud  step. 

The  minister  once  gone,  Maria  Theresa  gave  herself  up  to  the 
wildest  grief.  No  one  saw  her  anguish  liut  God  ;  no  one  ever  knew 
how  the  powerful  empress  writhed  and  wrung  her  hands  in  her 
powerless  agony ;  no  one  but  God  and  the  dead  emperor,  whose 
mild  eyes  beamed  compassion  from  the  gilt  frame  in  which  his 
picture  luujg,  upon  the?  wall.  To  this  picture  Maria  Theresa  at  last 
raised  her  eyes,  and  it  seemed,  to  her  excited  imagination,  that  her 
husband  smiled  and  whispered  words  of  consolation. 

"Yes,  dear  Franz,  I  hear  you, "  said  she.  "You  would  remind 
me  that  this  is  our  wedding-day.  Alas,  I  know  it !  Once  a  day  of 
joy,  and  from  tliis  moment  the  anniversary  of  a  great  sorrow! 
Franz,  it  is  our  child  tliat  is  the  victim!  The  sweet  Antoinette, 
wliose  eyes  are  so  like  lier  father's  !  Oil,  dear  Inisband,  my  heart  is 
heavy  with  grief!  Why  may  I  not  go  forest  too?  But  thou  wilt 
not  love  me  if  my  courage  fail.  I  will  be  brave,  Franz  ;  I  will 
work,  and  try  to  do  my  duty." 

She  ai)]n'oached  her  writinp^-table,  and  began  to  overlook  the 
heaps  of  papers  that  awaited  her  inspection  and  signature.     Gradu- 


THE  PROPHECY.  237 

ally  her  brow  cleared  and  her  face  resumed  its  usual  expression  of 
deep  thought  and  high  resolve.  The  mother  forgot  her  grief,  and 
the  empress  was  absorbed  in  the  cares  of  state. 

She  felt  so  strongly  the  comfort  and  sustenance  derived  from 
labor,  that  on  that  day  she  dined  alone,  and  returned  immediately 
to  her  writing-desk.  Twilight  came  on,  and  still  the  empress  was 
at  work.  Finally  the  rolling  of  carriages  toward  the  imperial 
theatre  was  heard,  and  presently  the  shouts  of  the  applauding  audi- 
ence. The  empress  heard  nothing.  She  had  never  attended  the 
theatre  since  her  husband's  death,  and  it  was  nothing  to  her  that 
to-night  Lessing's  beautiful  drama,  "Emilia  Galotti,"  was  being 
represented  for  the  first  time  in  Vienna. 

Twilight  deepened  into  night,  and  the'  empress  rang  for  lights. 
Then  retiring  to  her  dressing-room,  she  threw  off  her  heavy  court 
costume,  and  exchanged  it  for  a  simple  peignoir,  in  which  she 
returned  to  her  cabinet  and  still  wrote  on. 

Suddenly  the  stillness  was  broken  by  a  knock,  and  a  page  entered 
with  a  golden  salver,  on  which  laj'  a  letter. 

"A  courier  from  Florence,  your  majesty,"  said  he. 

Maria  Theresa  took  the  letter,  and  dismissed  the  page.  "From 
my  Leopold, "  said  she,  while  she  opened  it.  "  It  is  an  extra  courier. 
It  must  announce  the  accouchement  of  his  wife.  Oh,  my  heart,  how 
it  beats !" 

With  trembling  hands  she  held  the  missive  and  read  it.  But  at 
once  her  face  was  lighted  up  with  joy,  and  throwing  herself  upon 
her  knees  before  the  portrait  of  the  emperor,  she  said,  ''  Franz, 
Leopold  has  given  us  a  grandson.     Do  you  hear?" 

No  answer  came  in  response  to  the  joyful  cry  of  the  empress,  and 
she  could  not  bear  the  burden  of  her  joy  alone.  Some  one  must 
rejoice  with  her.  She  craved  sympathj^  and  she  must  go  out  to 
seek  it. 

She  left  her  cabinet.  Unmindful  of  her  dress,  she  sped  through 
the  long  corridors,  farther  and  still  farther,  down  the  staircase  and 
away  to  the  extremest  end  of  the  palace,  until  she  reached  the  im- 
perial theatre. 

That  night  it  was  crowded.  The  interest  of  the  spectators  had 
deepened  as  the  jilay  went  on.  They  were  absorbed  in  the  scene  be- 
tween Emilia  and  her  father,  when  a  door  was  heard  to  open  and  to 
shut. 

Suddenly,  in  the  imperial  box,  which  had  so  long  been  empty,  a 
tall  and  noble  figure  bent  forward,  far  over  the  railing,  and  a  clear, 
musical  voice  cried  out : 

"Leopold  has  a  son  !" 

The  audience,  as  if  electrified,  rose  with  one  accord  from  their 
seats.  All  turned  toward  the  imperial  box.  Each  one  had  recog- 
nized the  voice  of  the  adored  Maria  Theresa,  and  every  heart  over- 
flowed with  the  joy  of  the  moment. 

The  empress  repeated  her  words  : 

"Leopold  has  a  son,  and  it  is  born  on  my  wedding-day.  "Wish 
me  joy,  dear  friends,  of  my  grandson  !" 

Then  arose  such  a  storm  of  congratulations  as  never  before  had 
been  heard  within  those  theatre  walls.  The  women  wept,  and  the 
men  waved  their  hats  and  cheered  ;  while  all,  with  one  voice,  cried 
out,  "  Long  live  Maria  Theresa !  Long  live  the  imperial  grand- 
mother !" 


238  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT 

CHAPTER    LVI. 

THE    GIFT. 

All  prophecies  defying,  Maria  Theresa  had  given  her  daughter 
to  France.  In  the  month  of  May,  1770,  tlie  Archduchess  Marie 
Antoinette  was  married  by  proxy  in  Vienna ;  and  amid  the  ringing 
of  bells,  the  booming  of  cannon,  and  the  shouts  of  the  populace,  the 
beautiful  young  dauphiness  left  Austria  to  meet  her  inevitable  fate. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  imperial  palace,  too,  one  room  was  darken- 
ing under  the  shadow  of  approaching  death.  It  was  that  in  whicli 
Isabella's  daughter  was  passing  from  earth  to  lieaven. 

The  emperor  knew  that  his  child  was  dying  ;  and  many  an  houi 
he  spent  at  her  solitary  bedside,  where,  tranquil  and  smiling,  she 
murmured  words  which  her  father  knew  were  whispered  to  the 
angels. 

The  emperor  sorrowed  deeply  for  the  severance  of  the  last  tie 
that  bound  liim  to  the  bright  and  beautiful  dream  of  his  early  mar- 
ried life.  But  he  was  so  accustomed  to  sorrow,  that  on  the  occasion 
of  his  sister's  marriage,  he  had  gone  through  the  forms  required  by 
etiquette,  without  any  visible  emotion. 

But  the  festivities  were  at  an  end.  The  future  Queen  of  France 
had  bidden  farewell  to  her  native  Vienna,  and  the  marriage  guests 
liad  departed  ;  while  darker  and  darker  grew  the  chamber  of  the 
dying  child,  and  sadder  the  face  of  the  widowed  father.  The  em- 
peror kissed  his  daughter's  burning  forehead,  and  held  her  little 
transparent  hand  in  his.  "Farewell,  iny  angel,"  whispex'ed  he; 
"since  thy  mother  calls  thee,  go,  my  little  Theresa.  Tell  her  that 
she  was  my  only  love — my  first  and  last.  Go,  beloved,  and  pray  for 
thy  unhappy  father. " 

Once  more  he  kissed  her,  and  when  he  raised  his  head,  her  face 
was  moistened  with  his  tears.  He  turned  hastily  away  and  left  the 
room. 

"  And  now, "  thought  he,  "  to  my  duty.  I  must  forget  my  own 
sorrows  that  I  may  wipe  away  the  tears  of  my  sorrowing  people. 
There  is  so  much  grief  and  want  in  Austria!  Oh,  my  child,  my 
little  one !  Amid  the  blessings  of  the  suffering  poor  shalt  thou 
stretch  forth  thy  wings  and  take  thy  flight  to  heaven  !" 

He  was  on  his  way  to  seek  an  audience  of  liis  mother.  Maria 
Theresa  was  in  her  cabinet,  and  was  somewhat  surprised  to  see  her 
son  at  this  unusual  liour  of  the  day. 

"I  come  to  your  majesty  to  beg  a  boon,"  said  Joseph,  with  a  sad 
smile.  "Yesterday  you  were  distributing  Antoinette's  wedding- 
gifts  to  your  children  ;  I  alone  received  nothing.  Is  there  notiiing 
for  me?" 

"Nothing  for  you,  my  son!"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  aston- 
ished. "  Why,  every  thing  is  yours,  and  therefore  I  have  nothing 
to  give.  Where  your  right  is  indisputable,  my  presents  are  super- 
fluous. " 

"  Yes,  mother  ;  but  it  does  not  become  one  so  generous  as  you,  to 
let  her  eldest  son  wait  for  an  inheritance,  when  she  miglit  make 
him  a  handsome  ])rest'ut  of  her  own  free  will.  Be  generous,  then, 
and  give  me  something,  too.  I  wish  to  be  on  an  equality  with  the 
other  children, " 


THE  GIFT.  239 

"Well,  then,  you  grown-up  child,  what  will  you  have?"  asked 
tlie  empress,  laughing.  "  Of  course  you  have  already  chosen  your 
gift,  and  it  is  mere  gallantry  on  your  part  to  beg  for  what  you  might 
take  without  leave.  But  let  us  hear.  What  is  it?  You  have  only 
to  ask  and  have. " 

"Indeed  !     May  I  choose  my  wedding-gift?" 

"  Yes,  you  imperial  beggar,  you  may. " 

"Well,  then,  give  me  the  government  claims  upon  the  four  lower 
classes. " 

The  empress  looked  aghast.  "Is  it  money  you  desire?"  said  she. 
"Say  how  much,  and  you  shall  have  it  from  my  private  purse.  But 
do  not  rob  the  poor !  The  claim  that  you  covet  tlie  tax  levied 
upon  all  the  working  classes,  and  30U  know  how  numerous  they  are. " 

■'For  that  very  reason,  I  want  it.  It  is  a  princely  gift.  Shall  I 
have  it?" 

The  empress  reflected  for  a  few  moments.  "  I  know, "  said  she, 
looking  up  with  one  of  her  sweetest  smiles,  "I  know  that  you  will 
not  misuse  your  jwwer ;  for  I  remember  the  fate  of  your  father's 
legacy,  the  three  millions  of  coupons.  You  shall  have  the  claim, 
my  son.     It  is  yours. " 

"Will  your  majestj'  draw  out  the  deed  of  gift?" 

"I  will,  my  son.  It  is  your  wedding-gift  from  our  darling 
Antoinette.  But  you  will  acquaint  me,  from  time  to  time,  with 
the  use  you  are  making  of  your  power  over  the  poor  classes?" 

"I  will  render  my  account  to  vour  majesty.  But  first  draw'  out 
the  deed." 

The  empress  stepped  to  her  escritoire  and  wrote  a  few  lines,  to 
which  she  afhxed  the  imperial  signature  and  seal. 

"  There  it  is, "  said  she.  "  I  bestow  upon  my  son,  the  emperor, 
all  the  government  claims  to  the  impost  levied  upon  the  four  lower 
classes.     Will  that  do?" 

"  It  will,  and  fi'om  my  heart  I  thank  my  dear  mother  for  the 
gracious  gift. " 

He  took  the  hand  of  the  empress  to  kiss  it,  but  she  held  his  fast 
in  her  grasp,  and  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  of  tenderness 
and  anxiet}". 

"  You  are  pale,  my  son, "  said  she,  affectionately.  "  I  see  that 
your  heart  is  sad. " 

"And  yet,"  replied  Joseph,  with  quivering  lip,  "I  should  rejoice, 
for  I  am  about  to  have  an  angel  in  heaven." 

"Poor  little  Theresa!"  murmured  the  empress,  while  the  tears 
rose  to  her  eyes.  "She  has  never  been  a  healthy  child.  Isabella 
calls  her  hence. " 

"Yes,"  replied  Joseph,  bitterly;  "she  calls  my  child  away,  that 
she  may  break  the  last  link  that  bound  her  to  me. " 

"  We  must  believe,  my  child,  that  it  is  for  the  best.  The  will  of 
God,  however  painful  its  manifestations,  is  holy,  wise,  and  merci- 
ful. Isabella  declared  to  us  that  she  would  call  the  child  when  it 
had  reached  its  seventh  year;  she  goes  to  her  mother.  And  now 
that  this  bitter  dream  of  your  early  love  is  past,  perhaps  your  heart 
may  awaken  once  more  to  love.  There  are  many  beautiful  princesses 
in  Europe,  and  not  one  of  them  would  refuse  the  hand  of  the  Em- 
peror of  Austria.  It  is  for  you  to  choose,  and  no  one  shall  dictate 
your  choice." 

"Would  your    majesty    convert  me   into  a    bluebeard?"  cried 


240  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Joseph,  coloring.  "Do  you  not  see  that  I  murder  my  wives? 
Enough,  that  two  of  them  are  buried  in  the  chapel  of  the  Capuchins, 
and  that  to-morrow,  perhaps,  my  child  will  join  them.  Leopold 
has  given  an  heir  to  my  throne,  and  I  am  satisfied. " 

""why  do  you  talk  of  a  successor,  my  son?"  said  the  empress, 
"you,  who  are  so  young?" 

"Your  majesty,  I  am  old,"  replied  Joseph,  movirnfully — "so  old 
that  I  have  no  hope  of  happiness  on  earth.  You  see  that  to-day, 
when  you  have  been  so  gracious,  I  am  too  wretched  to  do  aught  but 
thank  you  for  your  splendid  gift.  Let  me  retire,  then,  to  my  un- 
happy solitude  ;  I  am  not  fit  to  look  upon  your  sweet  and  honored 
countenance.     I  must  exile  myself  until  my  trial  is  past." 

He  left  the  room,  and  hastening  to  his  cabinet,  "Now,"  ex- 
claimed he,  "now  for  my  mother's  gift." 

He  sat  down  and  wrote  as  follows  : 

"My  Dear  Prince  Kaunitz  :  By  the  enclosed,  you  will  see  that 
the  empress,  my  mother,  has  presented  me  with  all  the  government 
claims  upon  the  working-classes.  Will  you  make  iumiediate 
arrangements  to  acquaint  tlie  collectors  with  tlie  following  : 

"'No  tax  shall  be  collected  from  the  working-classes  during  the 
remainder  of  my  life. ' 

"Joseph.  "* 

"Now,"  thought  he,  as  he  laid  aside  his  pen,  "this  document 
will  gladden  many  a  heart,  and  it  will,  perchance,  win  forgiveness 
for  my  own  weakness.  But,  why  should  monarchs  have  hearts  of 
flesh  like  other  men,  since  they  have  no  right  to  feel,  to  love,  or  to 
grieve?  Be  still,  throbbing  heart,  that  the  emperor  may  forget 
himself,  to  remember  his  subjects  !  Yes,  my  subjects — my  children 
— I  will  make  you  happy  !     I  will — " 

There  was  a  light  tap  at  tlie  door,  and  the  governess  of  the  little 
Archduchess  Maria  Theresa  entered  the  room. 

"I  have  come,"  said  she,  in  a  faltering  voice,  "to  announce  to 
your  majesty  that  the  princess  has  breathed  her  last. " 

The  emperor  made  no  reply.  He  motioned  the  lady  to  retire, 
and  bowing  his  head,  gave  way  to  one  long  burst  of  grief. 

For  hovirs  he  sat  there,  solitary  and  broken-hearted.  At  length 
the  paroxysm  was  over.  He  raised  his  head,  and  his  eyes  were 
tearless  and  bright. 

"It  is  over!"  exclaimed  he,  in  clear  and  unfaltering  tones. 
"The  past  is  buried  ;  and  I  am  born  anew  to  a  life  whereof  the  aim 
shall  be  Austria's  greatness  and  her  people's  welfare.  I  am  no  more 
a  Imsband,  no  more  a  father.  Austria  shall  be  my  bride,  and  every 
Austrian  my  child." 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

THE  CONFERENCE. 

Great  excitement  prevailed  at  Neustadt.  All  work  was  sus- 
pended, all  the  shops  were  shut,  and  although  it  was  not  Sunday, 
the  people,  in  their  holiday  attire,  seemed  to  have  cast  away  all 
thought  of  the  wants,  cares,  and  occvipations  of  every-day  life. 

For,  although  it  was  not  Sunday,  it  was  a  holiday— a  holiday'  for 
♦Historical.    Hubuer,  vol.  ii.,  p.  85. 


THE  CONFERENCE.  241 

Neustadt,  since  this  was  tlie  birthday  of  Neustadt's  fame.  For 
hundreds  of  years  the  little  village  had  existed  in  profound  obscurity, 
its  simple  inhabitants  dreaming  away  their  lives  far  from  the 
clamor  of  the  world  and  its  vicissitudes.  Their  slumbers  had  been 
disturbed  by  the  Seven  Years'  War,  and  many  a  father,  son,  hus- 
band, and  lover  had  fought  and  fallen  on  its  bloodthirsty  battle- 
field. But  with  the  return  of  peace  came  insignificance,  and  vil- 
lagers of  Neustadt  went  on  dreaming  as  before. 

To  day,  however,  on  the  3d  of  September,  in  the  year  1770,  they 
were  awakened  by  an  event  which  gave  to  Neustadt  a  place  in  his- 
tory. Tlie  two  gi-eatest  potentates  in  Germany  were  to  meet  there, 
to  bury  their  past  enmit}',  and  pledge  to  each  other  the  right  hand 
of  fellowsliip. 

These  two  potentates  wei-e  the  Emperor  of  Austria  and  the  King 
of  Prussia.  It  was,  therefore,  not  surprising  that  all  Neustadt  should 
be  out  of  doors  to  witness  the  baptism  of  Neustadt's  celebrity. 

Tlie  streets  were  thronged  with  well-dressed  people,  the  houses 
were  hung  with  garlands  and  wreaths,  the  church-bells  were  ring- 
ing, and  all  the  dignitaries  of  the  town  had  turned  out  to  witness 
the  pageant. 

And  now  the  moment  had  arrived.  The  thunder  of  cannon,  the 
shouts  of  the  people  who  thronged  the  avenue  that  led  to  the  palace, 
and  the  clang  of  martial  music,  announced  the  approach  of  the  em- 
peror, whom  his  people  were  frantic  to  welcome. 

He  came,  a  young  man,  on  a  jet-black  Arabian,  who  rode  ahead 
of  those  glittering  nobles — this  was  the  Emperor  Joseph,  the  hope 
of  Austria. 

A  thousand  voices  rent  the  air  with  shouts,  while  Joseph  smiled, 
and  bowed,  and  raised  his  eyes  to  the  balconies,  whence  showers  of 
bouquets  were  falling  around  him. 

He  was  inclining  his  head,  when  a  wreath  of  red  ro.ses  and 
orange- flowers,  aimed  by  some  skilful  hand,  fell  directly  upon  his 
saddle-bow.  He  smiled,  and  taking  up  the  wreath,  looked  around 
to  see  whence  it  came.  Suddenly  his  eye  brightened,  and  his  counte- 
nance expressed  increased  int  rest,  while  he  reined  in  his  horse  that 
he  might  look  again  at  a  lady  who  was  leaning  over  a  balcony  just 
above  him.  Her  tall  and  elegant  figure  was  clothed  in  a  dress  of 
black  velvet,  closed  from  her  white  throat  to  her  round  waist  by 
buttons  of  large  and  magniticent  diamonds,  wlio.se  brilliancy  was 
almost  dazzling.  Her  youtiiful  and  beautiful  face  was  colorless, 
witii  tiiat  exquisite  and  delicate  pallor  which  has  no  affinity  to  ill- 
health,  but  resembles  the  spiritual  beauty  of  a  n^arble  statue.  Her 
glossy  black  hair  defined  the  exquisite  oval  of  that  fair  face,  as  a 
rich  frame  sets  off  a  fine  painting.  On  her  head  she  wore  a  diadem 
of  brilliants,  which  confined  a  rich  black-lace  veil,  that  fluttered 
like  a  dark  cloud  around  lier  graceful  figure.  Her  coimtenance  wore 
an  expression  of  profound  sadness,  and  lier  large,  lustrous  ej^es  were 
riveted  with  an  earnest  gaze  upon  the  emperor. 

He  bowed  to  his  saddle-bow,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  recognize 
the  compliment,  for  her  glance  and  her  sadness  were  unchanged. 

"The  wreath  is  not  from  her."  thought  Joseph,  with  a  feeling  of 
disappointment ;  but  as  he  turned  for  one  more  look  at  her  lovely 
face,  he  remarked  a  bouijuet  which  she  wore  in  her  bosom.  It  was 
similar  to  the  vi-reath  which  he  held.  The  same  white  orange- 
blossoms  and  red   roses,    fastened    together    by    the    same    white 


242  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

and  red  ribbon,  whose  long  streamers  were  now  fluttering  in  the 

wind. 

A  triumphant  smile  overspread  the  features  of  the  emperor,  as 
blushing,  he  bowed  again  and  passed  on.  But  his  face  no  longer 
wore  its  expression  of  careless  gratiticatiou.  He  grew  absent  and 
thoughtful ;  he  forgot  to  return  the  greetings  of  the  people ;  and 
vainly  the  ladies,  who  crowded  window  and  balcony,  threw  flowers 
in  his  way,  or  waved  their  handkerchiefs  in  greeting.  He  saw 
nothing  but  the  beautiful  vision  in  tlie  black  veil,  and  wondered 
whence  she  came  and  what  could  be  the  hidden  meaning  of  the  red 
and  white  flowers  which  she  wore  and  gave  to  him. 

He  was  glad  when  the  pageant  of  his  entry  into  Neustadt  was 
over,  and,  dismounting  quickly,  he  entered  tlie  palace,  followed  by 
Field-Marshal  Lacy  and  Count  Rosenberg. 

The  people  looked  after  them  and  shouted  anew.  But  their 
attention  was  directed  from  the  emperor  to  a  carriage,  drawn  by 
four  horses,  which,  advancing  in  the  very  centre  of  the  brilliant 
cortege,  seemed  to  contain  some  imperial  personage,  for  the  staff 
were  around  it,  as  though  forming  its  escort.  The  curtains  of  the 
carriage  were  all  drawn,  so  that  nothing  could  be  seen  of  its  occu- 
pant. . 

Who  could  it  be?  A  woman,  of  course;  smce  no  man  would 
dai-e  to  be  driven,  while  the  Emperor  of  Austria  rode.  It  could  be 
no  other  than  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa,  who  had  taken  the  jovu-- 
ney  to  Neustadt,  that  she  might  look,  face  to  face,  upon  her  cele- 
brated opponent,  and  offer  him  her  own  hand  in  pledge  of  future 
good  understanding. 

Wliile  the  populace  hoped  and  speculated,  the  mysterious  equi- 
page arrived  before  the  palace  gates.  The  rich-liveried  footmen 
sprang  from  the  rumble,  and  stationed  themselves  at  the  door  of  the 
coacliT  The  two  others,  who  were  seated  on  tlie  box,  did  likewise  ; 
bringing  with  them,  as  they  alighted  on  the  ground,  a  roll  of  rich 
Turkey  carpeting,  which  they  laid,  with  great  precision,  from  the 
carriage  to  the  palace  steps. 

Then  the  people  were  convinced  that  it  was  the  empress.  Who 
but  the  sovereign  lady  of  Austria  and  Hungary  would  walk  the 
streets  upon  a  carpet  of  such  magnificence?  And  they  thronged 
nearer,  eager  to  catch  the  first  glance  of  their  beloved  and  honored 
empress. 

The  carpet  was  laid  without  a  wrinkle.  One  of  the  footmen 
opened  the  carriage  door,  while  another  approached  the  fore-wheel. 

"She  comes!  she  comes !"  cried  the  populace,  and  they  crowded 
around  in  eager  delight. 

One  foot  was  put  forward— not  a  foot  encased  in  a  satin  slipper, 
but  a  foot  in  a  buckled  shoe,  which,  glistening  though  it  was  with 
diamcmds,  was  not  that  of  an  empress.     The  occupant  of  the  carriage 

was  a  man !  ,    ^      -cr         tt       i 

"A  man!"  exclaimed  tlie  bystanders,  astounded.     \es.     Here  he 

came,    wrapped  up  in  a  bearskin,   which,  on  this  warm   summer 

day,  was  enough  to  dissolve  an  ordinary  human  being  into  vaiior. 

Not'contcnt  wUh  his  wrapping,  his  h;iuds  were  encased  in  a  huge 

muff,  wliich  he  held  close  to  liis  fac(>,  th:it  he  might  not  inhale  one 

single  breath  of  the  air  that  was  refreshing  everybody  else.     His 

head  was  cov(M-(m1  by  a  hood  which  concealed  his  face,  of  which 

nothing  was  visible  "save  a  pair  of  light-blue  eyes. 


KAUNITZ.  243 

When  he  had  disappeared  within  the  palace  doors,  the  footmen 
rolled  up  the  carpet  and  replaced  it  on  the  coach-box. 

Tlie  populace,  who  had  been  looking  on  in  speechless  wonder, 
now  began  to  laugh  and  whisper.  Some  said  it  was  the  King  of 
the  North  Pole  ;  others  declared  it  was  an  Arctic  bear  ;  others  again 
thouglit  the  gentleman  had  started  for  Siberia  and  had  lost  his  way. 
Finally  the  desire  to  know  who  he  was  grew  uncontrollable,  and, 
thronging  around  his  lackeys,  the  people  shouted  out : 

"Who  is  he?     Tell  us,  who  is  he?" 

The  lackeys,  with  the  gravity  of  heralds-at-arms,  shouted  out  in 
return  : 

"This  is  his  highness  Prince  Kaunitz,  prime  minister  of  tlieir 
majesties  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa  and  the  Emperor  Joseph  of 
Austria !" 


CHAPTER    LVIII, 

KAUNITZ. 

"What  an  abominable  idea!"  exclaimed  Prince  Kaunitz,  as, 
perfectly  exhausted  from  his  journey,  he  fell  into  an  arm-chair  in 
his  own  room.  "What  an  abominable  idea  to  undertake  this  jour- 
ney !  These  German  roads  are  as  rough  and  imcouth  as  the  Germans 
themselves,  and  I  only  wonder  that  we  have  arrived  without  break- 
ing our  ribs !" 

"It  would  certainly  have  been  more  convenient,"  said  Baron 
Binder,  "  if  the  King  of  Prussia  had  visited  us  in  Vienna." 

Kaunitz  turned  his  large  eyes  full  upon  his  friend. 

"  I  suppose, "  said  he,  "  that  you  jest,  Binder  ;  for  you  must  know 
that  it  is  never  safe  to  have  your  eneuiy  under  j'our  own  roof." 

"  Your  highness,  then,  has  no  confidence  in  the  protestations  of 
love  that  are  going  on  between  the  emperor  and  the  king?" 

The  prince  made  no  reply.  He  was  looking  at  himself  in  a 
mirror,  criticising  his  toilet,  which  had  just  been  completed  by  the 
expert  Hippolyte.  Apparently  it  was  satisfactory,  for  he  looked  up 
and  spoke : 

"You  are  a  grown-up  child.  Binder  ;  you  stare,  and  believe  every 
thing.      Have  you  not  yet  learned  that  statesmanship  recognizes 
nothing  but  interests?    To-day  it  is  to  the  interest  of  Frederick  to 
squeeze  our  hands  and  protest  that  he  loves  us ;  to-morrow  (if  he 
can),  he  will  put  another  Silesia  in  his  royal  pocket.     W^e,  too,  have 
found  it  convenient  to  write  him  a  love-letter  or  tAvo  ;  but  to-day, 
if  we  would,  we  would  pluck  off  his  crown,  and  make  him  a  little 
margrave  again  !     Our  intimacy  reminds  me  of  a  sight  I  once  saw 
while  we  were  in  Paris.     It  was  a  cage,  in  which    animals,  natu- 
rally antagonistic,    were  living  in  a  state  of  perfect  concord.     A 
dog  and  cat  were  dining  sociably  together  from  one  plate,  and,  not 
far  off,  a  turkey-hen  was  comfortably  perched  upon  the  back  of  a 
fox,  who,  so  far  from  betraying  any  sjmiptom  of  appetite  for  the 
turkey,  looked  quite  oblivious  of  her  proximity.     I  gave  the  keeper 
a  louis  d'or,  and  he  told  me  his  secret.     The  dog's  teeth  were  drawn, 
and  the  cat's  claws  were  pared  off ;  this,  of  course,  forced  Itoth  to 
keep  the  peace.     As  for  the  turkey-hen,  she  was  fastened  to  the  back 
of  the  fox  with  fine  wire,  and  this  was  the  secret  of  her  security. " 


244  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Ah!"  cried  Binder,  laughing,  "this  is  the  history  of  many  a 
human  alliance.  How  many  foxes  I  have  known  who  carried  their 
hens  upon  their  backs  and  made  believe  to  love  them,  because  they 
dared  not  do  otherwise  !" 

"  Peace,  Binder,  my  story  is  not  yet  ended.  One  morning  the 
dog  and  the  cat  were  found  dead  in  their  corner  ;  and  in  the  other, 
the  fox  lay  bleeding  and  moaning ;  while  of  the  hen,  nothing  re- 
mained save  her  feathers.  Time— the  despot  that  rules  us  all,  had 
outwitted  the  keeper  and  asserted  the  laws  of  Nature.  The  cat's 
claws  had  grown  out,  and  so  liad  the  dog's  teeth.  The  fox,  after 
much  pondering  over  his  misfortunes,  had  discovered  the  reason 
why  he  could  not  reach  the  hen  ;  and  this  done,  he  worked  at  the 
wires  until  they  broke.  Of  course  he  revenged  himself  on  the  spot 
by  gobbling  her  up;  but  in  his  wrath  at  the  vvires,  he  had  thrust 
them  so  deeply  into  his  own  flesh  that  the  wounds  they  made  upon 
his  body  caused  his  death.  And  so  ended  the  compulsory  alliance 
of  four  natural  enemies. " 

"Does  your  highness  apply  that  anecdote  to  us?"  asked  Binder. 
"Are  we  to  end  like  the  cat  and  the  dog?" 

"For  the  present,"  said  Kaunitz,  thoughtfully,  "our  teeth  and 
claws  are  harmless.  We  must  wait  until  they  have  grown  out 
again !" 

"Your  highness,  then,  assigns  us  the  role  of  the  dog?" 

"  Certainly.  I  leave  it  to  Prussia  to  play  the  cat — she  has 
scratched  us  "more  than  once,  and  even  to-day,  when  she  covers  lier 
paws  with  velvet,  I  feel  the  claws  underneath.  I  came  hither  to 
watch  her.  I  am  curious  to  know  wliat  it  is  in  Frederick  that  has 
so  bewitched  the  young  Emperor  of  Austria." 

"  It  would  appear  that  his  majesty  of  Prussia  has  extraordinary 
powers  of  fascination.      No  one  can  resist  him. " 

" 7 sliall  resist  him,"  said  Kaunitz,  "for  against  his  fascinations 
I  am  defended  by  the  talisnaan  of  our  mutual  hate. " 

"  Do  not  say  so,  your  higlmess.  The  King  of  Prussia  may  fear, 
but  he  cannot  hate  you.  And  did  he  not  make  it  a  special  request 
that  you  should  accompany  the  emperor?" 

"  He  did  ;  and  however  disinclined  I  might  he  to  accept  his  in- 
vitation, I  have  come  lest  he  shovild  supjjuse  that  I  am  afraid  to 
encounter  his  eagle  eyes.*  Ifeavliim!.  He  intimidate  me!  It  is 
expedient  for  the  present  that  Austria  and  Prussia  should  be  quasi 
allies,  for  in  this  way  peace  has  been  secured  to  Europe.  But  my 
system  of  diplomacy,  which  the  empress  has  made  her  own,  forbids 
me  to  make  any  permanent  alliance  with  a  prince  who  lives  politi- 
cally from  hand  to  mouth,  and  has  no  fixed  line  of  policy,  f  No — I 
do  liot  fear  him  ;  for  I  see  through  his  hypocritical  professions,  and 
in  spite  of  Jiis  usurped  crown  I  feel  myself  to  be  more  than  his  equal. 
If  he  has  won  thirteen  victories  on  tlie  battle-field,  I  have  fought 
twice  as  many  in  the  cabinet,  where  the  fight  is  hand  to  hand,  and 
the  victor  conquers  witliout  an  army.  On  this  field  he  will  scarcely 
dare  to  encounter  me.     If  he  does,  he  will  find  his  master  for  once  ! 

"Yes,"  repeated  Kaunitz  emphatically,  "he  will  find  his  master 
in  me.  I  have  never  failed  to  make  other  men  subservieJit  to  my 
schemes,  and  the  King  of  Prussia  shall  grace  my  triumjih  with  the 
rest.     He  is  the  vassal  of  Austria,  and  I  will  be  the  one  to  force  him 

*FerraiKl,  "History  of  the  Dismeinbermentof  Poland,"  vol.  i.,  p.  103. 
tKaunitz's  own  words.    See  Ferrand,  vol.  i.,  p.  69. 


SOUVENIR  D'EPERIES.  245 

back  to  his  allegiance.  It  is  scandalous  that  this  petty  king  should 
have  been  suffered  to  play  an  important  part  in  European  affairs.  I 
will  drive  him  from  liis  accidental  grandeur,  and  he  shall  return  to 
his  duty.  I  will  humble  him  if  I  can  ;  for  this  King  of  Prussia  is 
the  only  man  in  Europe  who  has  denied  me  the  honors  and  consider- 
ation due  me  as  a  politician  and  a  prince."  * 

While  Kaunitz  spoke,  his  marble  face  grew  animated,  and  his 
eyes  glowed  with  the  fire  of  hate. 

"  Nay,  prince !"  exclaimed  Binder,  anxious  to  subdue  the  fiend 
that  was  rising  in  his  friend's  heart,  "everybody  knows  that  you 
are  the  coachman  of  Europe,  and  that  it  is  in  the  power  of  no  man 
to  wrest  the  reins  from  your  hands. " 

"May  this  Prussian  ride  behind  as  my  footman  !"  cried  Kaunitz, 
gnashing  his  teeth.  "Oh,  I  know  him!  I  know  why  he  pays  a 
million  of  subsidy  annually  to  his  accomplice,  the  virtuous  Catha- 
rine, that  she  may  continue  her  assaults  upon  Poland  and  Turkey  ! 
I  know  whither  his  longings  travel ;  but  when  he  stretclies  his  hand 
out  for  the  booty,  we  too  will  be  there  to  claim  our  share,  and  he 
shall  yield  it." 

"  Your  highness  speaks  in  riddles,"  said  Binder,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.  "  I  am  accustomed,  as  you  know,  to  look  tlirough  your 
political  spectacles  ;  and  I  beg  you  to  explain,  for  I  am  perfectly  at 
a  loss  to  understand  you." 

Tlie  countenance  of  Kaunitz  had  resumed  its  impassible  look. 
He  threw  back  his  head,  and  fixed  his  cold,  heartless  blue  eyes  upon 
the  baron. 

"  Do  you  know, "  said  he,  "  what  William  the  Silent  once  said  of 
himself?  'If  I  knew  that  mj'-  night-cap  had  found  out  my  thoughts 
I  would  throw  it  in  the  fire. '  Now,  Binder,  do  not  aim  to  be  my 
night-cap,  or  I  shall  burn  you  to  a  cinder. — But  enough  of  this.  It 
would  seem  that  the  Emperor  Joseph  expects  me  to  wait  upon  him. 
Well — if  it  please  him  that  I  should  make  the  first  visit,  I  will 
humor  him.  When  a  man  feels  that  lie  is  lord  and  master  of 
anotlier,  he  can  afford  to  be  condescending!  I  will  indulge  the 
emperor's  whim." 

He  rang,  and  one  of  his  valets  entered  the  room. 

"Is  his  majesty  in  the  castle?" 

"Yes,  your  highness.  His  majesty  has  been  reviewing  the 
troops. " 

"Where  is  his  majesty  now?" 

"He  is  with  his  suite  in  the  parlor  that  overlooks  the  square." 

"Is  it  far  from  this  room?" 

"  No,  your  highness.     It  is  close  by. " 

"  Then  reach  me  a  cloak  and  muff,  and  woe  to  you  if  I  encounter 
a  draught  on  my  way  !" 

CHAPTER    LIX. 

SOUVENIR     D'EPERIES. 

The  emperor  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  in  lively  conver- 
sation with  the  gentlemen  of  his  suite.  As  Kaunitz  entered,  he 
stopped  at  once,  and  coming  forward,  received  the  prince  with  a 
cordial  welcome. 

*  Kaunitz's  own  words.    Ferrand,  vol.  i.,  p.  104 


246  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Kaunitz  roplied  bj-  a  low  bow,  and  nodded  slightly  to  Prince  de 
Ligne  and  General  Lacy. 

"Your  highness  is  just  in  time,"  said  the  emperor.  "These  gen- 
tlemen need  encouragement.  They  have  been  blushing  and  trem- 
bling like  two  young  debutantes.'" 

"Before  whom,  your  majesty?" 

"  Oh  ! — before  the  great  Frederick,  of  course.  And  De  Ligne, 
who  is  considered  the  most  elegant  man  in  Vienna,  actually  trembled 
moi'e  than  anybody  else. " 

"Actors  trembling  before  their  manager!"  said  Kaunitz,  with 
a  slight  shrug.  "  Compose  yourselves,  gentlemen  ;  the  King  of 
Prussia  is  too  much  absorbed  in  his  own  7'ule  to  take  any  notice  of 
you. " 

"  That  is  right, "  cried  the  emperor.  "  Encourage  the  debutantes, 
prince !" 

"  I  scarcely  think  tliat  the  prince  will  succeed  where  your  majesty 
has  failed, "  said  General  von  Lacy  proudly. 

"And  his  highness  will  hardly  have  any  time  to  devote  to  us,  for 
doubtless  he  too  is  practising  the  role  which  he  must  play  before  the 
King  of  Prussia, "  added  De  Ligne. 

"  I  beg  to  impress  upon  the  Prince  de  Ligne, "  interrupted  Kaunitz, 
"that  the  verb  'must'  is  one  which  I  am  well  accustomed  to  conju- 
gate for  others,  but  never  allow  others  to  conjugate  for  me. " 

"I  for  one  have  had  it  conjugated  for  me  by  your  highness,"  said 
the  emperor,  laughing.  "  Nobody  in  Austria  knows  it  in  all  its  moods 
and  tenses  better  than  I.  But  I  have  always  recognized  you  as  my 
teacher,  and  hope  always  to  remain  your  faithful  pui^il." 

The  clouds  which  were  gathering  on  Kaunitz's  brow  now  shifted 
to  the  faces  of  Lacy  and  De  Ligne. 

"I  have  nothing  to  teach  your  majesty,"  replied  Kaunitz,  almost 
smiling  ;  "but  allow  me  as  a  faithfvii  servant  to  offer  you  a  sugges- 
tion. Present  to  the  King  of  Prussia  that  beautifxil  wreath  wliich 
jou  hold  in  your  hand,  as  an  emblem  of  the  friendship  which  to-day 
we  pledge  to  Prussia. " 

"Not  I,"  cried  Joseph,  wliile  he  held  vip  his  wreath  and  admired 
its  white  and  red  roses.  "I  shall  keep  my  bouquet,  were  it  only  for 
the  sake  of  tlio  beautiful  donor.  You,  prince,  who  penetrate  all 
things,  liave  pity  on  me,  and  find  out  her  name." 

"Your  majesty  saw  her,  then?" 

"Saw  her?  Yes,  by  Aphrodite,  T  did  ;  and  never  in  my  life  did 
I  see  a  lovelier  woman.  She  stood  there  in  her  velvet  dress  and 
veil,  looking  for  all  the  world  like  the  queen  of  night,  of  starry 
night.  You  see  how  she  has  impressed  me,  since  I,  who  am  so  pro- 
saic;, launch  out  into  e.xtravagance  of  speecli  to  describe  her." 

"She  was  in  mourning?"  asked  Kauiiitz  thonglitruUy. 

"Clothed  in  bhick,  'except  the  diamonds  that  sparkled  on  lier 
bodice,  and  the  bouquet  (a  match  to  mine)  whicli  slie  wore  in  her 
I)Osom.  All,  j'our  liighness,  how  you  look  at  my  poor  flowers,  as  if 
treason  were  lurking  among  their  h'aves  !" 

"It  is  a  beautiful  V)()U(|U('t, "  said  Kauhitz.  eying  it  critically, 
"and  very  ju'culiar.      Will  your  majesty  allow  me  to  examine  it?" 

Tlie  emjieror  handed  over  the  wreath.  "Take  it,"  said  he,  "but 
be  merciful  to  my  pretty  delin(|uents. " 

Kaunitz  took  the  flowers  and  looked  at  them  as  he  would  have 
done  at  any  other  thing  that  might  be  the  links  in  a  chain  of  evi- 


SOUVENIR  D'EPERIES.  247 

dence,  and  passed  his  slender,  white  fingers  through  the  long  ribbons 
that  fastened  them  together. 

"  The  lady  who  threw  these  flowers  is  a  Pole, "  said  he,  after  a 
pause. 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  cried  the  emperor. 

"It  is  certainly  not  accidental  that  the  wreath  should  be  com- 
posed of  white  and  red  roses,  and  tied  with  a  knot  of  white  and  red 
ribbons.  White  and  red,  you  remember,  are  the  colors  of  the  so- 
.  ailed  Republic  of  Poland." 

"You  are  right!"  exclaimed  Joseph,  "and  she  wears  mourning 
!v^cause  a  noble  woman  must  necessarily  grieve  for  the  sufferings  of 
iior  bleeding  country." 

"Look,"  said  Kaunitz,  who,  meanwhile,  was  opening  the  leaves 
;i!id  searching  among  them,  "  here  is  a  paper.  >  Does  your  majesty 
permit  me  to  draw  it  out?" 

"  Certainly.  I  gave  you  the  wreath  to  examine,  and  you  shall 
have  the  benefit  of  all  that  you  discover." 

Kaimitz  bowed  his  thanks,  and  began  to  untwist  the  stems  of  the 
1  iwers.     The  emperor  and  the  two  courtiers  looked  on  with  interest. 

The  prince  drew  forth  a  little  folded  paper,  and  reached  it  over 
()  the  emperor. 

"Have  the  goodness,  your  majesty,  to  read  it  yourself.  A 
declaration  of  love  from  a  lady  is  not  intended  for  my  profane  eyes. " 

The  emperor  sighed.  "  No, "  said  he,  "  it  is  no  declaration  for 
me.     I  am  not  so  happy.     Read,  your  highness,  read  it  aloud. " 

Kaunitz  unfolded  the  jmper,  and  read.  ''Souvenir  d'Ejyeries." 

"Nothing  more?"  asked  Joseph. 

Kaunitz  replied  liy  handing  him  the  note. 

"How  strange!  Only  these  words,  and  no  explanation.  lean- 
not  understand  it." 

"These  words  prove  my  supposition,  your  majesty.  The  donor 
is  a  Polish  lady  and  one  of  the  Confederates. " 

"You  think  so?" 

"I  am  convinced  of  it.  When  your  majesty  was  travelling  in 
Hungary,  did  you  not  spend  a  day  at  Eperies,  and  honor  the  Con- 
federates by  receiving  them  both  publicly  and  privately?" 

"I  did, "  replied  Joseph,  warmly.  "And  it  gladdened  my  heart 
to  assure  these  brave,  struggling  patriots  of  my  sympathy." 

"  Did  not  your  majesty  go  so  far  as  to  promise  them  mediation 
with  Prussia  and  Russia?"* 

"I  did,"  replied  the  emperor,  with  a  faint  blush. 

"Well,  then,  this  female  confederate  meant  to  remind  you  of 
your  promise  on  the  day  when  you  are  to  hold  a  conference  with 
Frederick, "  said  Kaunitz,  allowing  the  wreath  to  slip  through  his 
fingers  to  the  floor.  "There,  your  majesty,"  continued  he,  "your 
beautiful  Pole  is  at  your  feet.  Will  you  rescue  her,  or  unite  in 
crushing  her  to  the  earth?" 

"Oh,  I  will  rescue  her,"  replied  Joseph,  "that  she  may  not  fall 
into  the  hands  of  ambitious  Catharine.  It  would  give  her  gi'eat 
pleasure  to  deck  her  Muscovite  head  with  these  sweet  Polish  roses  ; 
but  she  shall  not  have  them." 

With  these  words,  and  before  his  courtiers  could  anticipate  his 
action,  the  emperor  stooped  and  picked  up  the  wreath. 

"  Have  a  care,  your  majesty, "  said  the  wary  Kaunitz,  "  how  you 
I-  *FerraDd,  vol.  i.,  p.  79. 


24-8  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT 

espouse  Polish  quaiTels.  The  Poles  are  unlucky.  They  can  die  like 
men.  but  they  do  not  live  like  men.  Beware  of  Polish  roses,  for 
tlieir  perfume  is  not  wholesome." 

Just  then  a  shout  was  heard  in  the  distance,  and  the  emperor 
hastened  to  the  window. 

"  It  is  the  King  of  Prussia !"  cried  he,  joyfully,  and  he  walked 
toward  the  door. 

Prince  Kaunitz  took  the  liberty  of  going  immediately  up  and 
interposing  his  tall  person  between  Josepli  and  the  doorway. 

"Your  majesty,"  said  he,  reproachfully,  "what  are  you  about  to 
do?" 

"  I  am  about  to  go  forward  to  meet  the  King  of  Prussia.  He  is 
just  descending  from  his  carriage.  Do  not  detain  me,"  replied 
Joseph,  hastily. 

"  But  has  your  majesty  forgotten  that  at  Neisse,  when  the  King 
of  Prussia  was  the  host,  he  came  no  farther  than  the  stairway  to 
meet  you?  It  is  not  seemly  that  Austria  should  condescend  to 
Prussia. " 

"  My  dear  prince, "  said  the  emperor,  with  a  peculiar  laugh,  "  it 
is  your  business  to  respect  these  conventions.  It  is  mine  to  regulate 
them.  As  the  little  sovereign  of  Austria  I  hasten  to  do  homage  to 
the  great  King  of  Prussia. " 

And  gently  putting  the  minister  aside,  the  emperor  walked 
rapidly  out,  followed  by  liis  suite. 

Kaunitz  looked  after  him  with  stormy  brow. 

"  Incorrigible  fanatic  !"  said  he  to  himself.  "  Will  you  never 
cease  to  butt  your  empty  head  against  the  wall?  You  will  butt  in 
vain  as  long  as  /  have  power  and  life.  Go.  It  befits  such  a  little 
emperor  as  you  to  humble  yourself  before  your  great  king ;  but 
Austria  is  represented  in  my  person,  and  I  remain  here  !" 

He  looked  around  the  room,  and  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  wreath, 
which  the  emperor  had  laid  by  the  side  of  his  hat,  on  the  table. 
A  sneer  overspread  his  countenance  as  he  went  toward  it,  and  shook 
olf  some  of  the  leaves  which  were  already  fading. 

"How  soon  they  fall !"  said  he.  "I  think  tliat  the  glorious  re- 
pu])lic  will  be  quite  as  short-lived  as  they.  Meanwhile  I  shall  see 
that  the  'Souvenir  cVEperies'  lives  no  longer  than  roses  have  a  right 
to  live. " 

He  left  the  room,  resolved  to  find  out  who  it  was  that  had  be- 
stowed the  wreath.  "For,"  tliought  lie,  "she  may  prove  a  useful 
instrument  with  which  to  operate  on  either  side. " 


CHAPTER     LX. 

FREDERICK    THE    GREAT. 

With  youtliful  ardor,  unconscious  that  his  head  was  uncovered, 
the  emperor  luirried  down  the  staircase  into  the  street.  Looking 
neitlier  to  tlie  right  nor  to  the  left,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  spot 
whence  the  king  was  a<lvancing,  the  emperor  rushed  onward,  for 
the  lirst  time  in  his  life  slighting  tbe  people  who  thronged  around, 
full  of  joy  at  sight  of  his  elegant  aTid  handsome  person. 

Fre(lerick  was  coming  with  equal  rapidity,  and  now,  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  square,  the  monarchs  met. 


FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  249 

At  this  moment  all  was  quiet.  The  military,  ranged  in  lines 
around,  were  glistening  with  gold  lace  and  brightened  arms.  Be- 
hind them  came  the  people,  who  far  and  near  were  seen  flowing  in 
one  great  stream  toward  the  square,  wliile  on  the  balconies  and 
through  the  open  windows  of  the  houses  around  richly -dressed  mat- 
rons and  beautiful  maidens  enclosed  the  scene,  like  one  long  wreath 
of  variegated  flowers. 

They  met ;  and  in  the  joy  of  his  youthful  enthusiasm,  the  emperor 
threw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  embraced 
him  with  a  tenderness  that  was  almost  filial.  The  king  returned 
the  caress,  and  pressed  tlie  young  monarch  to  his  heart. 

While  the  King  of  Prussia  had  been  advancing,  the  people  in 
silence  were  revolving  in  their  minds  the  blood,  the  treasure,  the 
long  years  of  struggle  which  Austrians  had  owed  to  this  warlike 
Frederick.  But  when  they  saw  how  Joseph  greeted  him,  they  for- 
got every  thing,  and  he  now  seemed  to  their  excited  imaginations 
to  come'  like  a  resplendent  sun  of  peace,  whose  rays  streamed  far 
into  the  distance  of  a  happy  and  prosperous  futurity. 

It  was  peace !  peace ! — the  hopes  of  peace  that  filled  evei-y  eye 
with  tears,  and  bowed  everj'  unconscious  knee  in  pi-ayer  to  Almighty 
God. 

From  the  midst  of  the  kneeling  multitude,  a  voice  was  heard  to 
cry  out,  "  Long  live  peace !"  A  thousand  other  voices  echoed  the 
words,  "  Long  live  peace  !" 

•'  Long  live  the  emperor  and  the  king  !"  cried  the  same  voice  ;  and 
now  the  air  was  rent  with  shouts,  while  from  street  and  square, 
and  from  every  house,  the  cry  went  up  to  heaven,  "  Long  live  the 
emperor  !     Long  live  the  king  !" 

Frederick  withdrew  from  Joseph's  embrace,  and  bowed  to  the 
multitude  with  that  bright  and  fascinating  smile  which  no  one  was 
ever  known  to  resist. 

He  then  turned  to  the  emperor,  and  presenting  the  young  Prince 
of  Prussia  and  tlie  two  Princes  of  Brunswick,  he  pointed  to  the 
white  uniforms  which  they  wore,  and  said  :  "Sire,  I  bring  you  some 
new  recruits.*  We  are  all  desirous  of  serving  under  your  banner. 
And  we  feel  that  it  would  be  an  honor, "  continued  he,  looking  around 
the  square,  "'  to  be  the  companions-in-arms  of  your  majesty's  soldiers, 
for  each  man  looks  like  a  true  son  of  Mars. " 

"If  so, "  replied  the  emperor,  "they  have  reason  to  rejoice,  since 
to-day  they  are  permitted,  for  the  first  time,  to  do  homage  to  their 
father. " 

Frederick  smiled,  and  taking  Joseph's  arm,  they  walked  together 
to  the  palace.  The  king  was  conducted  at  once  to  the  apartments 
prepared  for  his  occupation,  whence  he  shortly  emerged  to  join  the 
noble  company  assembled  in  the  hall  that  led  into  the  dining-room. 

The  brilliant  suite  of  the  emperor  were  awaiting  the  princely 
pair,  and  when  they  entered  the  hall  together,  followed  by  the 
cortege  of  Prussia,  every  head  bowed  with  deferential  awe,  and 
every  eye  sovight  the  ground.  One  head  only  bent  slightly,  and  one 
pair  of  eyes  looked  boldly  into  the  face  of  Frederick  the  Great. 

The  eagle  eye  of  the  king  remarked  him  at  once,  and  with  an 
affable  smile  he  approached  the  haughty  minister. 

"I  rejoice,  at  last,  to  meet  Prince  Kaunitz  face  to  face,"  said  he, 

*  The  king  wore  ihe  Austrian  uniform,  embroided  with,  silver.  The  princes  and 
the  king's  suite  also  wore  it. 


250  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

in  his  soft  and  musical  voice.  "  We  need  no  introduction  to  one 
another.  I  am  not  such  a  barbarian  as  to  require  that  he  should  be 
pointed  out  to  me  whom  all  Europe  knows,  admires,  and  respects. " 

Something  happened  to  which  Kaunitz  was  totally  unaccustomed 
— he  blushed.  In  spite  of  himself,  he  smiled  and  bowed  very,  very 
low ;  but  he  found  no  words  wherewith  to  reply  to  Frederick's 
flattering  address. 

"Sire, "  said  the  emperor,  coming  to  the  rescue,  "  you  are  making 
the  most  self -po.ssessed  men  in  Austria  grow  speechless  with  ecstasy. 
Even  Kaunitz  is  at  a  loss  to  answer  you  ;  and  as  for  poor  De  Ligne, 
he  is  completely  dazzled.  But  by  an  by,  he  will  get  accustomed  to 
the  sun's  splendor,  and  then  he  will  recover  his  accustomed  address. "  * 

"I  know  him  well, "  said  Frederick,  with  another  bewitching 
smile.  ■'  I  have  read  your  letter  to  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  prince  ; 
and  I  know  it  to  be  genuine,  for  it  is  too  beautiful  to  be  a  forgery." 

"Ah,  sire!"  replied  De  Ligne,  "I  am  not  of  such  renown  that 
obscure  writers  should  seek  to  forge  my  name. "  f 

The  king  bowed,  and  turned  to  Field-Marshal  von  Lacy. 

"  Your  majesty  need  not  present  this  man  either, "  said  he,  laying 
his  hand  upon  Lacj^'s  shoulder,  "he  has  given  me  entirely  too  much 
trouble  for  me  not  to  be  familiar  with  his  features.  I  have  good 
reason  to  remember  Von  Lacy,  and  to  rejoice  that  he  is  not  quarter- 
master-general to- day  ;  for  in  that  capacity,  I  and  my  soldiers  have 
suffered  enough  from  him." 

"But  where  is  Loudon?"  asked  the  emperor.  "He  is  very  late 
to-day. " 

"  That  is  not  his  habit, "  replied  Frederick,  quickly,  "  I  have  sel  • 
dom  been  able  to  come  upon  the  field  as  soon  as  he.  But,  sire,  we 
have  done  him  injustice,  for  he  is  here,  punctual  as  though  he 
waited  his  enemies,  not  liis  friends." 

Crossing  over  to  Loudon,  and  disregarding  his  stiff  demeanor, 
Frederick  took  his  hand,  and  greeted  him  with  the  most  cordial  ex- 
pressions of  regard. 

"  If  it  be  agreeable  to  your  majesty, "  said  the  emperor,  as  the 
doors  were  flung  open,  "  we  will  proceed  to  dinner. "  And  he  offered 
his  arm. 

Frederick  took  it,  but  he  still  kept  his  eyes  upon  Loudon. 

"Sire,"  said  he  to  Joseph,  "if  I  am  to  have  the  honor  of  sitting 
beside  your  majesty  at  the  table,  pray,  let  me-  have  Loudon  on  the 
other  side.  I  would  much  rather  have  him  there  than  opposite — I 
feel  safer. " 

So  saying,  the  king  walked  on,  and  the  company  passed  into  the 
dining-room. 

'■  If  he  turns  the  lieads  of  all  the  court  with  his  flatter3%  "  mut- 
tered Kaunitz,  following  just  after  the  princely  pair,  "he  shall  not 
succeed  with  me.  What  fine  things,  to  be  sure!  But  flattery  in- 
discriminately bestowed  leaves  a  bitter  taste  in  the  mouth.  He 
wishes  Loudon  for  his  neighbor,  forsooth,  as  if  a  man  coukl  have 
any  rational  intercourse  with  such  an  ignorant,  ill-bred,  awkward 
dolt  as  he  is. " 

And  Kaunitz,  who  was  secretly  chagrined  at  the  choice  of  the 

*  The  emperor's  words.  "  Conversations  with  Frederick  the  Great,"  by  Prince  de 
Ligne,  p.  11. 

+  N<)t  long  before  this,  u  letter  li.-id  been  writti^n  to  Je;in  .lacques,  and  signed  with 
the  king's  name.    The  wViter  of  tliis  letter  wiis  Horace  Walpole. 


THE   PRIMA  DONNA.  251 

king,  took  the  seat  which  had  been  assigned  to  him  by  the  emperor. 
It  was  at  Joseph's  own  table,  directly  opposite  the  two  sovereigns. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Frederick  laughing  and  nodding  to  Kaunitz, 
"now  I  am  satisfied.  If  I  would  rather  have  Loudon  beside  me,  I 
would  rather  have  the  greatest  statesman  in  Europe  before  me,  for 
it  is  only  when  I  can  see  him  that  I  feel  quite  safe  from  his  diplo- 
matic grasp.  I  take  shelter  under  your  highness 's  eye.  Be  indul- 
gent to  an  old  soldier,  whose  sword  has  so  often  been  struck  from  his 
hands  by  your  magic  pen." 

"  Your  majesty's  pen  is  as  sharp  as  your  sword, "  replied  Kaunitz, 
'  and  the  world  has  learned  to  fear  and  admire  the  one  as  much  as 
the  other.  We  offer  resistance  to  neither  ;  but  pay  willing  homage 
to  the  prince  who  is  at  once  a  statesman,  an  autlior,  and  a  warrior. " 

The  emperor  whispered  to  Frederick  :  "Sire,  a  compliment  from 
Kaunitz  is  like  the  flower  upon  the  aloe — it  blooms  once  in  a 
century. " 


CHAPTER    LXI. 

THE  PRIMA  DONNA. 

The  festivities  of  the  first  day  were  concluded  with  a  ballet. 
Great  preparations  had  been  made  for  the  reception  of  the  King  of 
Prussia.  Noverre  with  his  dancers,  and  Florian  Gassman  with  his 
opera  corps  had  been  summoned  to  Neustadt.  They  came  in  twenty 
wagons  laden  with  scenery,  coulisses,  machinery,  and  costumes,  all 
of  which  was  intended  to  prove  to  Frederick  that,  although  the 
court  of  Berlin  was  the  acknowledged  seat  of  literatiire  and  the  fine 
arts,  Vienna  was  not  altogether  forsaken  by  the  Muses. 

"  Your  majesty  must  be  indulgent  to  our  theatrical  eff'orts,"  said 
the  emperor,  as  they  took  their  seats  in  the  box  which  had  been 
prepared  for  their  occupation.  "We  all  know  that  in  Berlin  the 
Muses  and  Graces  have  their  home ;  they  seldom  visit  Vienna,  for 
they  are  loyal  and  love  to  sit  at  tlie  feet  of  their  master. " 

"Ah,  sire,  you  speak  of  the  past.  Time  was  when  the  Muses 
were  not  unpropitious ;  but  now  that  I  am  an  old  man,  they  have 
proved  inconstant,  and  have  fled  from  Sans-Souci  forever.  The 
Muses  themselves  are  young,  and  it  is  but  natural  that  thej^  should 
seek  your  majesty's  protection.  I  am  thankful,  through  your  inter- 
vention, to  be  admitted  once  more  to  Parnassus." 

Just  as  the  king  was  about  to  seat  himself  he  remarked  Kaunitz, 
who,  with  his  usual  grave  indifi:erence,  was  advancing  to  a  chair 
not  far  off. 

Frederick  turned  smilingly  to  Joseph.  "Your  majesty  and  I," 
said  he,  "might  stand  to-night  as  representatives  of  youthful  and 
aged  sovereignty.  AVe  both  need  wisdom  in  our  councils.  Let  us 
invite  Prince  Kaunitz  to  sit  between  us. " 

The  emperor  bowed,  and  beckoned  to  the  prince,  who,  having 
heard  distinctly  what  had  been  intended  for  his  ears,  could  not  sup- 
press a  momentary  expression  of  exultation.  Never  in  his  life  had 
he  made  a  bow  so  profound  as  that  with  which  he  took  the  seat 
which  a  king  had  resigned  to  him.  He  was  so  exultant  that  in  the 
course  of  the  evening  he  was  actually  heard  to  laugh.  The  ballet 
began.     Gods  and  goddesses  fluttered  about  the  stage,  Muses  and 


252  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Grabes  grouped  themselves  together  in  attitudes  of  surpassing 
beauty ;  and  finally,  with  one  grand  tableau,  composed  of  all  the 
dancers,  the  curtain  fell. 

After  the  ballet  came  a  concert.  It  was  to  open  with  an  air  from 
Gluck's  opera  of  "Alceste,"  sung  in  costume  by  the  celebrated 
Bernasconi. 

The  orchestra  played  the  introduction,  and  the  curtain  rose— but 
the  prima  donna  did  not  appear.  The  leader  looked  toward  the 
conlisscs,  but  in  vain  ;  and  the  audience  began  to  express  their  im- 
patience in  audible  murmiu-s. 

The  curtain  fell  slowly,  and  the  marshal  of  the  emperor's  house- 
hold, coming  forward,  spoke  a  few  words  to  Joseph,  in  a  low 
voice. 

He  turned  to  the  king.  "  Sire,  I  have  to  apologize  to  you  for  this 
unlucky  contretemps.  Signora  Bernasconi  has  been  taken  suddenly 
sick." 

"Oh!"  replied  Frederick,  laughing,  "I  am  quite  au  fait  to  the 
sudden  illness  of  prima  donnas.  But  since  I  have  ordered  a  half 
month's  salary  to  be  withdrawn  from  every  singer  who  falls  sick  on 
a  night  of  representation,  my  cantatrices  at  Berlin  enjoy  unprece- 
dented health. " 

"  Bernasconi  must  have  been  made  sick  by  her  anxiety  to  appear 
well  in  your  majesty's  critical  eyes. " 

"Do  not  believe  it.  These  princesses  of  the  stage  are  more 
capricious  than  veritable  princesses.     Above  all,  the  Italians. " 

"  But  Bernasconi, "  said  Kaunitz,  "  is  not  an  Italian.  She  belongs 
to  a  noble  Polish  family. " 

"  So  much  the  worse, "  laughed  Frederick.  "  That  Polish  blood  is 
forever  boiling  over.  I  am  surprised  that  your  highness  should 
permit  your  director  to  give  to  a  Polish  woman  a  role  of  importance. 
Wherever  the  Poles  go,  they  bring  trouble  and  strife." 

"Perhaps  so,  sire,"  replied  Kaunitz;  "but  they  are  excellent 
actors,  and  no  people  understand  better  how  to  represent  heroes." 
As  he  said  this,  Kaunitz  drew  out  his  jewelled  snuff-box,  enriched 
with  a  medallion  portrait  of  his  imperial  mistress,  Maria  Theresa. 

"To  represe/ifheroes,  I  grant  you;  but  just  as  we  are  beginning 
to  feel  an  interest  in  the  spectacle  of  their  heroism,  lo  !  the  stage- 
armor  falls  off,  the  tin  sword  rattles,  and  we  find  that  we  M'ere 
wasting  our  sympathies  upon  a  band  of  play-actors. " 

"Perhaps,"  said  Kaunitz,  as  he  dijiped  his  long,  white  fingers 
into  the  snuff-box,  "perliapsAvc  may  live  to  see  the  stage  break 
under  them,  and  then  they  may  cease  to  be  actors,  and  become 
lunatics. " 

Frederick's  eagle  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Kaunitz  wliile  he  spoke, 
but  the  minister  still  continued  to  ])lay  with  liis  snuff-box. 

"Prince,"  said  he,  laughing,  "we  have  been  antagonists  for  so 
many  years  that  we  must  celebrate  our  first  meeting  by  a  i)l(!dge  of 
future  good-will.  The  Indians  are  accustomed  at  such  times  to 
smoke  the  calumet  of  jieace.  Here  we  have  tobacco  under  another 
form.     Will  you  allow  me  a  pinch  from  your  snuff-box?" 

This  was  a  token  of  such  great  condescension  that  even  the 
haughty  Kaunitz  was  seen  to  blush  with  gratified  vanity.  With 
unusual  eagerness,  he  presented  his  snuff-box  to  the  king. 

Tlir  king  took  the  snuff  and  ns  lie  did  s<\  r(>inark(>d.  "This  is  the 
first  time  I  have  ever  taken  snuff  from  another  man's  box." 


THE  PRIMA  DONNA.  253 

"  Pardou  me,  your  majesty, "  replied  Kaunitz,  quickly.  "  Silesia 
was  a  pinch  fi'om  our  snuflf-box. " 

"  True, "  said  Frederick,  laughing,  "  but  the  tobacco  was  so 
strong  that  it  has  cost  me  many  an  uncomfortable  sneeze  ;  and  no- 
body has  ever  been  civil  enough  to  say,  'Heaven  bless  you. '" 

While  the  king  and  Kaunitz  jested  together,  Signor  Tobaldi  had 
been  singing  his  aria ;  and  now  that  he  ceased,  Frederick,  for  the 
first  time,  became  aware  that  any  music  had  been  going  on. 

"  Your  majesty, "  said  the  emj^eror,  "  has  done  injustice,  for  once, 
to  a  prima  donna.  Bernasconi  is  really  sick,  but  she  has  sent  a 
substitute. " 

"These  substitutes,"  said  Frederick,  "are  always  on  the  look-out 
for  such  opportunities  of  sliding  into  notice  ;  but  unhappily  they  are 
not  often  equal  to  the  tasks  they  are  so  eager  to  perform. " 

"This  substitute,"  said  Joseph,  "is  no  rival  opera-singer.  She 
is  a  dear  friend  of  Bernasconi's,  who  speaks  of  her  singing  with 
enthusiasm. " 

"  Is  that  possible  ?  Does  one  singer  go  into  raptures  over  another  ? 
By  all  means  let  us  hear  the  phoenix. " 

The  king  looked  toward  the  stage,  and  his  countenance  assumed 
at  once  an  expression  of  genuine  interest. 

Once  more  the  orchestra  began  the  introduction  to  Gluck's  beau- 
tiful aria.  Meanwhile  a  tall,and  elegant  person  was  seen  to  advance 
toward  the  foot-lights.  Her  pure  Grecian  robe,  half  covered  with 
a  mantle  of  purple  velvet,  richly  embroidered  in  gold,  fell  in  grace- 
ful folds  from  her  snowy  shoulders.  Her  dark  hair,  worn  in  the 
Grecian  style,  was  confined  by  a  diadem  of  brilliants ;  and  the 
short,  white  tunic  which  she  wore  under  her  mantle,  was  fastened 
by  a  girdle  blazing  with  jewels. 

She  was  so  transcendently  beautiful  that  Frederick  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  of  joining  in  the  applause  which  greeted  her 
entrance.  She  seemed  unconscious  of  the  effect  she  produced,  so 
eai'uestly  and  anxiously  were  her  large,  lustrous  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
spot  where  Frederick  and  Joseph  wex"e  sitting  together.  She  raised 
her  graceful  arms  as  she  began  the  prayer  of  Alceste  ;  but  her  looks 
were  riveted  upon  the  sovereigns,  w^ho  represent  divinity  on  earth. 
When  she  sang,  the  tones  of  her  glorious  voice  sank  deep  into  the 
hearts  of  all  who  listened.  Now  it  was  clear,  pure,  and  vibrating, 
wooing  the  air  like  a  clarionet — now  it  caressed  the  ear  like  a  speak- 
ing violin — and  anon  it  poured  forth  volumes  of  harmony  that  filled 
all  space,  as  the  booming  organ  fills  the  aisles  of  a  vast  aud  lofty 
cathedral.  Gluck,  the  hypercritical  Gluck,  w^ould  have  been  rav- 
ished to  hear  his  music  as  she  sang  it ;  and  Frederick,  who,  up  to 
this  hour,  had  refused  to  acknowledge  the  genius  of  the  great 
German,  now  sat  breathless  with  rapture,  as  he  listened  to  such 
music  and  such  interpretation  of  music  as  never  had  been  heard 
before. 

The  Emperor  Joseph  was  unmindful  of  it  all.  He  had  a  vague 
idea  of  celestial  sounds  that  seemed  to  drown  him  in  an  ocean  of 
melody;  but  he  heard  not  a  note  of  Alceste 's  prayer.  Every  sense 
was  stunned  save  one — and  that  one  was  sight. 

"  It  is  she, "  murmured  he,  as  the  siren  ceased  to  sing  ;  "  it  is  she, 
the  beautiful  Pole.  How  resplendent  she  is  to-night  I"  Then 
tui-ning  to  Kaunitz,  whose  observing  eyes  had  been  watching  his 
face  and  whose  sharp  ears  had  caught  his  words,  he  whispered : 


254  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Do  you  remember  the  bouquet  that  was  thrown  to  me  this 
morning?" 

"  I  forget  nothing  your  majesty  deigns  to  communicate  to  me, " 
replied  Kaunitz. 

"  This  is  she.     Who  can  she  be?" 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Kaunitz,  slightly  elevating  his  eyebrows. 
"The  'Souvenir  d'Eperies.'  Now  I  comprehend  Bernasconi's  ill- 
ness. She  felt  ill  through  patriotism,  that  tliis  adroit  country- 
woman of  hers  might  have  the  opportunity  of  being  remarked  by 
your  majesty.  I  would  not  be  at  all  surprised  if  slie  went  out  oi 
the  way  of  prima  donuas  to  attract  your  majesty's  attention.  These 
Polish  women  are  fanatics  in  their  love  of  country." 

The  emperor  said  nothing  in  reply.  He  scarcely  listened.  His 
eyes  were  still  upon  the  descending  curtain  that  hid  the  mysterious 
beauty  from  his  sight.  If  her  object  had  been  to  attract  him,  she 
had  certainly  succeeded. 

The  audience  were  waiting  for  some  signal  from  either  Joseph 
or  Frederick  that  they  might  give  vent  to  their  admiration.  Tlie 
king  understood  the  general  feeling,  and  began  to  applaud  with  his 
hands.  In  a  moment  the  applause  became  vociferous,  and  it  did 
not  cease  until  the  curtain  drew  up  a  second  time,  and  the  prima 
donna  came  forward  to  receive  her  ovation. 

For  one  moment  they  surveyed  tlie  enchanting  singer,  and  then 
broke  out  into  another  wild  storm,  in  wliich  the  emperor  joined  so 
heartily  that  his  voice  was  heard  above  the  din,  crying  out, ''  Brava! 
hvavassima  !  " 

The  singer  sought  his  glance,  and  meeting  it,  blushed  deeply. 
Tlien,  coming  forward  a  few  steps,  she  began  once  more  to 
sing. 

Her  song  was  a  passionate  appeal  to  the  two  princes,  whom  she 
addressed  openly,  in  behalf  of  Poland. 

It  was  over,  and  not  a  sound  was  heard  in  the  theatre.  The 
audience  hung,  in  breathless  anxiety,  upon  the  verdict  that  must 
come  from  those  who  had  been  addressed.  They  were  so  intent 
upon  Frederick  and  Joseph  that  they  did  not  see  the  singer  leave 
the  stage.  They  were  not  destined,  however,  to  be  enlightened  or 
relieved,  for  no  demonstration  was  made  in  the  imperial  box. 

But  Joseph,  rising  from  his  seat,  signed  to  the  marshal  of  the 
household  to  approach. 

"Go,  covin t,  "  said  he,  "go  quickly,  and  ask  her  name.  Tell  her 
it  is  the  emperor  who  desires  to  know  her. " 

"Her  name  is  Poland,"  said  Kaunitz,  in  an  absent  tone.  Tlien, 
addressing  Joseph,  he  continued  :  "  Did  I  not  tell  your  majesty  that 
your  adventure  was  not  to  end  with  the  throwing  of  a  bouquet?  I 
know  these  Poli.sh  women  ;  tliey  C()(|uette  with  every  thing — above 
all,  witli  tlie  throes  of  their  dying  faflierland." 

The  emperor  smiled,  but  said  nothing.  He  was  watching  the 
return  of  the  marslial  of  the  household. 

"Well,  count, what  is  her  name?"  cried  he  earnestly. 

"Sire,  I  am  unable  to  find  it  out.  The  lady  has  left  the  theatre, 
and  no  (me  here,  not  even  the  director,  knows  her  name.  " 

.   "  Strange, "  said  the  emperor.     "  Let  a  messenger,  then,  be  sent 
to  Bernasconi :  she,  of  course,  must  know. " 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  I  have  b(H>n  to  Bernasconi.  She  is 
here,  preparing  to  sing  her  second  air.     She  has  suddenly-   recovei'ed 


THE  PRIMA  DONNA.  255 

and  will  have  the  honor  of  appealing  before  your  majesties  in  a 
few  moments. " 

"But  what  said  Bernasconi  of  the  Polish  singer?" 

"  She  does  not  know  her  name,  your  majesty.  She  showed  me  a 
letter  from  Colonel  Dumourriez,  the  French  plenipotentiary  to  the 
Polish  Republic.  He  designates  her  only  as  a  Polish  lady  of  noble 
birth,  whose  remarkable  vocal  powers  were  worthy  of  your  majesty's 
admiration." 

"Do  you  hear  that?"  said  Frederick  to  Kaunitz.  "Do  you  hear 
that?  The  French  plenipotentiary  sends  this  prima  donna  to  sing 
before  the  emperor.  Vraiment,  it  seems  that  France  is  disgusted 
w^ith  war,  and  intends  to  try  her  hand  at  sentiment.  Petticoat- 
government  is  so  securely  established  there,  that  I  suppose  the 
French  are  about  to  throw  a  petticoat  over  the  heads  of  their  allies. 
France  and  Poland  are  two  femm.es  galanfes." 

"Yes,  sire,"  replied  Kaunitz,  "but  one  of  them  Isold  and  ugly. 
Madame  La,  Pologne  is  an  old  coquette,  who  puts  on  youthful  airs, 
and  thinks  she  hides  her  wrinkles  with  paint. " 

"Does  your  highness,  then,  believe  that  her  youth  is  forever 
past?  Can  she  never  be  rejuvenated?"  asked  Frederick,  with  a 
searching  look  at  Kaunitz's  marble  features. 

"Sirp,  people  who  waste  their  youth  in  dissipation  and  rioting, 
have  no  strength  when  the  day  of  real  warfare  dawns. " 

"  And  it  would  seem  that  the  Empress  of  Russia  has  some  inten- 
tion of  making  a  serious  attack  upon  the  poor  old  lady,"  said 
Frederick,  while  for  the  second  tinie  he  took  a  pinch  from  the  snuff- 
box of  the  crafty  Austrian. 

Meanwhile  the  concert  was  going  on.  Bernasconi,  completely 
restored,  sang  the  beautiful  air  from  "Orpheus  and  Eurydice, "  and 
Frederick  applauded  as  before.  But  the  emperor  sat  silent  and  ab- 
stracted. His  thoughts  were  with  that  Polish  woman,  whose  love 
of  country  had  brought  her  to  Neustadt  to  remind  him  of  the  prom' 
ises  he  had  made  to  the  Confederates  at  Eperies. 

"  How  enthusiastically  she  loves  Poland  !"  said  he  to  himself. 
"She  will  of  course  find  means  to  cross  my  path  again,  for  slie  seeks 
to  interest  me  in  the  fate  of  her  fatherland.  The  next  timeshe 
comes,  I  will  do  like  the  prince  in  the  fairy-tale,  I  will  strew  pitch 
upon  the  threshold,  that  she  may  not  be  able  to  escape  from  me 
again. " 

Kaunitz,  too,  was  preoccupied  with  thovights  of  the  bewitching 
Confederate,  but  the  fact  that  she  would  be  sure  to  come  again  was 
not  quite  so  consoling  to  him  as  to  Joseph. 

As  soon  as  he  returned  home,  he  called  for  his  private  secretary, 
who  was  one  of  the  most  dexteroiis  detectives  in  Vienna. 

"You  will  make  inquiries  at  once  as  to  the  whereabout  of  the 
prima  donna  who  sang  before  me  and  their  majesties  to-night.  To- 
morrow at  nine  o'clock  I  must  know  who  she  is,  where  she  lodges, 
and  what  is  her  business  here. " 


256  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    LXII. 

FREDERICK  THE  GREAT  AND  PRINCE  KAUNITZ. 

The  great  review,  which  liad  been  gotten  up  in  honor  of  the 
King  of  Prussia,  was  over.  In  this  review  Frederick  had  become 
acquainted  with  the  strength  of  tlie  Austrian  army,  tlie  superiority 
of  its  cavalry,  and  the  military  capacity  of  the  emperor  who  was  its 
commander-  in-chief. 

Tlie  king  had  been  loud  in  his  praises  of  all  three,  and  had  em- 
braced the  emperor  in  presence  of  the  whole  army. 

Immediately  after  the  review,  Frederick  sent  a  page  to  announce 
to  Prince  Kaunitz  that  he  would  be  glad  to  see  him  in  his  own 
private  apartments. 

Kaunitz  at  once  declared  his  readiness  to  wait  upon  the  king, 
and  to  the  unspeakable  astonishment  of  his  valet,  had  actually 
shortened  his  toilet  and  had  betrayed  some  indifference  to  the 
arrangement  of  his  peruke.  As  he  left  the  room,  his  gait  was  elastic 
and  active,  and  his  countenance  bore  visible  marks  of  the  excite- 
ment with  which  he  was  looking  forward  to  the  coming  inter- 
view. 

But  Kaunitz  himself  became  suddenly  aware  of  all  this,  and  he 
set  to  work  to  force  back  his  emotion.  The  nearer  he  came  to  the 
king's  suite  of  rooms,  the  slower  became  his  step  and  the  calmer 
his  mien.  At  last  it  was  tranquillized,  and  the  minister  looked 
almost  as  cold  and  indifferent  as  ever. 

Arrived  at  the  door  of  the  antechamber,  he  looked  around,  and 
having  convinced  himself  that  no  one  was  in  sight,  he  drew  from 
his  breast-pocket  a  small  mirror  which  he  always  wore  about  his 
person.  Sharply  he  viewed  himself  therein,  until  gradually,  as  he 
looked,  his  face  resumed  the  stony  aspect  which  like  a  thickening 
haze  concealed  his  emotions  from  other  men's  eyes. 

"It  is  really  not  worth  my  while,"  thought  he,  "to  get  up  an 
excitement  because  I  am  about  to  have  a  conference  with  that  small 
bit  of  royalty,  Fi'ederick.  If  he  should  discover  it,  he  might  suppose 
that  I,  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  am  abashed  in  the  presence  of  a 
king  because  he  has  some  military  fame.  No — no — what  excites 
me  is  the  fact  that  I  am  about  to  write  a  bit  of  history;  for  this 
interview  between  Prussia  and  Austria  will  be  historical.  It  is  the 
fate  of  Europe — that  fate  which  I  hold  in  my  hands,  that  stirs  me 
with  such  unwonted  emotion.  This  King  of  Prussia  has  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  No  doubt  lie  hopes  to  hoodwink  me  with  flattery, 
but  I  shall  work  him  to  //;?/  ends,  and  force  liim  to  that  line  of  policy 
which  I  have  loug  ago  laid  down  for  Austria's  welfare." 

Here  the  mirror  was  retui-ned  to  his  pocket,  and  he  opened  tlie 
door  of  the  anteroom.  The  sweet  sounds  of  a  flute  broke  in  upou 
his  ear  as  he  entered.  The  king's  aide-de-camp  came  up  and  whis- 
pered tliat  his  sovereign  was  accustomed  to  play  on  the  flute  daily, 
and  that  he  never  failed  even  when  in  camp  to  solace  his  solitude 
with  music. 

Prince  Kaunitz  answered  with  a  shrug,  and  pointing  to  the  door, 
said,  "Announce  me  to  his  majesty." 

The  aide-de-camp  opened  tlie  door  and  announced  his  highness 
Prince  Kaunitz. 


FREDERICK  THE  GREAT  AND  PRINCE  KAUNITZ.     257 

The  flute  ceased,  and  the  rich,  musical  voice  of  Frederick  was 
heard  to  say,  "  He  can  enter. " 

Kaunitz  was  not  much  pleased  to  receive  a  permission  where  he 
fancied  himself  entitled  to  an  invitation  ;  but  he  had  no  alternative, 
so  he  walked  languidly  forward  while  the  officer  held  the  door  open. 

"Shut  the  door,  and  admit  no  one  during  the  visit  of  Prince 
Kaunitz,"  said  the  king.  Then  turning  to  the  prince,  he  pointed  to 
his  flute.  "I  suspect  you  are  amused  to  see  such  an  old  fellow  as  I 
coquetting  with  the  fine  arts  ;  but  I  assure  you  that  my  flute  is  one 
of  my  trustiest  fi'iends.  She  has  never  deceived  me,  and  keeps  my 
secrets  faithfully.  My  alliance  with  her  is  for  life.  Ask  her,  and 
she  will  tell  you  that  we  live  on  terms  of  truest  friendship. " 

"Unhappily,  I  do  not  understand  the  language  of  your  lady-love. 
Your  majesty  will  perhaps  allow  me  to  turn  my  attention  to  another 
one  of  your  feminine  allies,  toward  whom  I  shall  venture  to  ques- 
tion your  majesty's  good  faith. " 

"Of  what  lady  do  you  speak?"  cried  Frederick,  eagerly. 

"  Of  the  Empress  Catharine, "  replied  Kaunitz,  slightly  inclining 
his  head. 

"  Oh !"  said  the  king,  laughing,  "  you  dart  like  an  arrow  to  the 
point,  and  transfix  me  at  once  upon  the  barb  of  politics.  Let  us  sit 
down,  tlien.  The  arm-chair  which  you  are  taking  now,  may  boast 
hereafter  that  it  is  the  courser  which  has  carried  the  greatest  states- 
man in  Europe  to  a  field  where  he  is  sure  to  win  new  victories. " 

Kaunitz  was  careful  to  seat  himself  at  the  same  time  as  the  king, 
and  they  both  sat  before  a  table  covered  with  charts,  papers,  and 
books. 

A  short  pai^se  ensued.  Both  were  collecting  their  energies  for 
the  strife.  The  king,  with  his  eagle  eye,  gazed  upon  the  face  of  the 
astute  diplomatist,  while  he,  pretending  not  to  see  it,  looked  per- 
fectly oblivious  of  kings  or  emperors. 

"So  you  will  ask  of  Catharine  whether  I  am  a  loyal  ally  or  not?" 
asked  the  king  at  last. 

"  Yes,  sire,  for  unluckily  the  Empress  of  Russia  is  the  one  who 
can  give  me  information." 

"Why  unluckily?" 

"Because  I  grieve  to  see  that  a  German  prince  is  willing  to  form 
alliances  with  her,  who,  if  she  could,  would  bring  all  Europe  under 
her  yoke,  and  make  every  European  sovereign  her  vassal.  Russia 
grows  hourly  more  dangerous  and  more  grasping.  She  foments 
discord  and  incites  wars,  for  she  finds  her  fortune  in  the  dissensions 
of  other  nations,  and  at  every  misunderstanding  between  other 
powers,  she  makes  a  step  toward  the  goal  whither  she  travels. "  * 

"  And  what  is  that  goal  ?" 

"The  subjugation  of  all  Europe,"  cried  Kaunitz,  with  unusual 
warmth.  "Russia's  policy  is  that  of  unprincipled  ambition;  and 
if  so  far  she  has  not  progressed  in  her  lust  of  dominion,  it  is  Austria, 
or  rather  tlie  policy  which  I  dictate  to  Austria,  that  has  checked  her 
advance.  It  is  I  who  have  restored  the  balance  of  power,  by  con- 
quering Austria's  antipathy  to  France,  by  isolating  haughty  Eng- 
land, and  himting  all  Europe  against  rapacious  Russia.  But  Russia 
never  loses  sight  of  the  policy  initiated  by  Peter  the  Great ;  and  as 
I  have  stemmed  the  tide  of  her  aggression  toward  the  west,  it  is 
overflowing  toward  the  south  and  the  east.  All  justice  disregard- 
ing, Russian  armies  occupy  Poland ;  and  before  long  the  ships  of 


258  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Russia  will  swarm  in  the  Black  Sea  and  threaten  Constantinople. 
Russia  is  perforce  a  robber,  for  she  is  internally  exhausted,  and 
unless  she  seeks  new  ports  for  her  commerce,  and  new  sources  of 
revenue,  she  is  ruined. " 

"You  err,  I  assure  you,"  cried  Frederick,  eagerly.  "Russia  is  in 
a  condition  to  sustain  any  burden  ;  her  revenues  this  year  show  an 
increase  over  the  last  of  five  hundred  thousand  rubles. " 

"  Then  this  increase  comes  probably  from  the  million  of  subsidy 
which  your  majesty  has  agreed  to  pay  to  Russia, "  said  Kaunitz, 
bowing.  *  "  Such  rich  tribute  ma}^  well  give  her  strength  to  attempt 
any  thing ;  but  every  thaler  which  your  majesty  pays  into  her 
treasury  is  a  firebrand  which  will  one  day  consume  all  Europe.  If 
indeed,  as  you  say,  Russia  is  strong  and  formidable,  it  is  for  your 
majesty  to  hold  her  in  check ;  if  she  is  exhausted,  her  alliance  is 
not  worth  having. "  f 

"  Your  highness  seems  eager  to  have  me  break  off  my  connection 
with  Russia,"  said  the  king,  while  a  cloud  passed  over  his  face. 
"You  wish  to  prove  that  Russia  is  a  power  whose  friendship  is 
worthless  and  whose  enmity  is  to  be  despised.  And  yet  it  is  well 
known  to  me  how  zealously  the  Austi-ian  ambassador  was  intriguing 
not  long  ago  to  induce  Russia  to  cast  me  aside  and  enter  into  an 
alliance  with  you.  Your  highness  must  excuse  me  if  I  throw  aside 
the  double-edged  blade  of  courtly  dissimulation.  I  am  an  old  sol- 
dier and  my  tongue  refuses  to  utter  auv  thing  but  unvarnished 
truth. " 

"If  your  majesty  permits,"  replied  Kaunitz  with  some  warmth, 
"I,  too,  will  speak  the  imvarnished  truth.  You  are  pleased  to 
charge  me  with  seeking  to  alienate  Russia  from  Prussia  while  striv- 
ing to  promote  an  alliance  of  the  former  with  Austria.  Will  your 
majesty  allow  me  to  reply  to  this  accusation  in  full  without  inter- 
ruption?" 

"I  will,"  replied  Frederick,  nodding  his  head.  "Speak  on,  I 
shall  not  jjut  in  a  word. " 


CHAPTER    LXIII. 

RUSSIA  A  FOE  TO  ALL  EUROPE. 

Prince  Kaunitz  remained  silent  for  a  time,  as  though  he  were 
turning  ovt>r  in  his  mind  what  he  should  say  to  the  king.  Then 
slowly  raising  liis  head,  he  met  the  scrutinizing  glance  of  Frederick 
•with  perfect  composure,  and  spoke  as  follows  : 

"At  the  conclusion  of  the  unhappy  war  which  desolated  both 
Austria  and  Prussia,  I  liad  to  consider  what  course  for  the  future 
was  likely  to  recuperate  tlie  prostrate  energies  of  Austria.  I  resolved 
in  my  mind  various  schemes,  and  laid  them  before  her  imperial 
majest}'.  The  one  which  I  advocated  and  which  was  adopted  by 
the  empress,  had  mainly  for  its  object  the  pacification  of  all  Euro- 
pean broils,  and  the  restoration  of  the  various  Austrian  dejjendencies 
to  order  and  prosperity.  For  some  time  I  waited  to  see  whether 
your  majesty  would  not  seek  to  conciliate  France,  and  renew  your 
old  league  of  friendship  with  her  king.     But  the  policy  pursued  by 

♦  Ferrand,  "History  of  the  Dismemberment  of  Poland,"  vol.  i.,  p.  84. 
tKaunitz's  own  words.    Ferrand,  vol.  i.,  p.  108. 


RUSSIA  A  FOE  TO  ALL  EUROPE.  259 

your  majesty  at  the  court  of  Russia  convinced  me  that  you  were 
thinking  exclusively  of  securing  your  provinces  in  the  east.  This 
once  understood,  it  becaiue  the  interest  of  Austria  to  rivet  the  links 
which  bound  her  to  France ;  for  an  alliance  with  her  offered  the 
same  advantages  to  us  as  that  of  Russia  did  to  Prussia.  Moreover, 
it  was  Austria's  opinion  tliat  Prussia  was  now  too  closely  bound  to 
Russia  for  her  ever  to  .seek  an  alliance  with  France.  It  therefore 
appeared  that  our  good  understandiig  with  the  latter  would  con- 
duce to  preserve  the  balance  of  power  among  European  nations,  and 
that  it  would  meet  with  the  favor  of  all  those  potentates  who  were 
anxious  for  peace.  It  follows  thence  that  the  court  of  Vienna  is 
perfectly  content  with  lier  relations  toward  France  ;  and  I  expressly 
and  distinctly  declare  to  your  majesty  that  we  never  will  seek  to 
alienate  Russia  from  Prussia,  that  we  never  will  encourage  any  ad- 
vances from  Russia,  and  that  your  majesty  may  rest  assured  that 
we  never  will  deviate  from  our  present  line  of  policy.  This  was 
what  I  desired  to  explain,  and  I  thank  your  majesty  for  the  courtesy 
■with  which  you  have  listened  to  me. "  * 

The  face  of  the  king,  which  at  first  had  looked  disti'ustful,  was 
now  entirely  free  from  suspicion.  He  rose  from  his  chair,  and 
giving  his  hand  to  Kaunitz,  said  with  a  cordial  smile  : 

"This  is  what  I  call  noble  and  candid  statesmanship.  You  have 
not  spoken  as  a  diplomatist,  but  as  a  great  minister,  who,  feeling 
his  strength,  has  no  reason  to  conceal  his  actions.  I  will  answer  in 
the  same  spirit.  Sit  down  again  and  hear  me.  You  fear  Russia, 
and  think  that  if  she  gains  too  great  an  ascendency  among  nations, 
she  will  use  it  to  the  detriment  of  all  Europe.  I  agree  with  you, 
and  I  myself  would  view  the  aggrandizement  of  Russia  under  Catha- 
rine with  disapprobation  and  distrust.  You  are  right,  and  I  feel 
the  embarrassment  of  my  present  political  condition.  At  the  com- 
mencement of  this  Turkish  war,  I  would  have  used  my  honest 
endeavors  to  check  the  usurping  advances  of  Russia,  not  only  in 
Turkey  but  also  in  Poland.  But  I  myself  was  in  a  critical  position. 
You,  who  had  been  represented  to  me  as  the  most  rapacious  of 
diplomatists,  you  had  prejudiced  all  Europe  against  me,  so  that  for 
seven  long  years  my  oulj  allies  were  my  rights  and  my  good  sword. 
The  only  hand  reached  out  to  me  Avas  that  of  Russia ;  policy  con- 
strained me  to  grasp  and  retain  it.  It  is  both  to  my  honor  and  my 
interest  that  I  keep  faith  with  Russia,  and  eschew  all  shifts  and 
tergiversations  in  my  dealings  with  her.  Her  alliance  is  advan- 
tageous to  Prussia,  and  therefore  I  pay  her  large  subsidies,  give  her 
advice,  allow  my  officers  to  enlist  in  her  armies,  and  finalh^  I  have 
promised  the  empress  that  should  Austria  interfere  in  behalf  of  the 
Turks,  I  will  use  all  my  influence  to  medinle  between  you."  f 

"Does  that  mean  that  if  Russia  and  Austria  should  go  to  war, 
your  majesty  will  stand  by  the  former?" 

"  It  means  that  I  will  make  every  effort  to  prevent  a  war  between 
Russia  and  Austria.  If,  in  spite  of  all  that  I  could  do,  there  should 
be  war  between  you,  it  would  not  bo  possible  for  Prussia  to  remain 
neutral.  "Were  she  to  do  so,  she  would  deserve  the  contempt  both 
of  friend  and  foe.  I  would  fulfil  my  obligations  to  Russia,  that  I 
might  secure  the  duration  of  our  alliance.     But  I  sincerely  hope 

*This  discourse  of  Kaunitz  is  historical.    It  is  found  in  Ferraad's  "  Histoire  des 
Trois  DSniembrements  de  la  Polof^ne,"  vol.  i.,  p.  112. 
tDohm,  "  Memoirs  of  My  Times,"  vol.  i.,  p.  456. 


2 GO  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

that  it  may  be  my  good  fortune  to  mediate  with  such  results  as  will 
spai^  me  the  espousal  of  either  party's  quarrel." 

"  If  so,  Russia  must  abandon  her  ambitious  projects  in  Turkey, 
and  she  must  speedily  consent  to  secure  peace  to  Poland, "  replied 
Kaunitz  warmly. 

The  king  smiled,  and  taking  from  the  table  a  sealed  packet,  he 
presented  it  to  Kaunitz. 

"A  letter  for  me  !"  exclaimed  the  minister,  surj^rised. 

"Yes,  your  highness.  A  few  moments  before  you  came  hither, 
a  courier  aiTived  from  Constantinople  with  dispatches  for  you  and 
for  me. " 

"  Does  your  majesty  allow  me  to  open  them  ?" 

"I  request  you  to  read  them  while  I  read  mine,  which  are,  as 
yet,  unopened.  I  have  only  read  the  report  of  my  ambassador  at 
Constantinople.     Let  us  see  what  news  we  have." 

The  king,  with  a  smiling  inclination  of  the  head,  settled  himself 
in  his  arm-chair,  and  began  to  read. 

A  long  pause  ensued.  Both  tried  to  seem  absorbed  in  the  dis- 
patches from  Turkey,  yet  each  one  gave  now  and  then  a  hasty, 
furtive  glance  at  the  other.  If  their  eyes  met,  they  were  quickly 
cast  down  again,  and  so  they  continued  to  watch  and  read,  until 
there  was  no  more  excuse  for  silence. 

"Bad  news  from  Turkey,"  said  Frederick,  speaking  first,  and 
putting  down  his  letters. 

"The  Pone  has  been  unfortunate, "  said  Kaunitz,  shrugging  his 
shoulders  and  looking  perfectly  indifferent.  "  Russia  has  not  only 
gained  a  great  victory  on  land,  but  has  defeated  him  at  sea,  and  has 
burnt  his  fleet. " 

"The  consequence  of  all  this  is,  that  Turkey  now  turns  to  Aus- 
tria and  Prussia  for  help,"  replied  the  king.  "Upon  our  interven- 
tion now,  hangs  the  peace  of  all  Europe.  We  have  a  most  important 
mission  to  perform. " 

"  Your  majesty  intends  to  undertake  it?"  asked  Kaunitz,  carelessly. 

"  I  am  resolved  to  do  all  that  I  can  to  prevent  war.  It  is  such  a 
terrible  scourge,  that  no  nation  has  a  right  to  fold  her  hands  and 
see  its  horrors,  if  by  any  step  of  hers  it  can  be  averted  or  stopped. 
Turkey  asks  for  intervention,  that  she  may  be  restored  to  the  bless- 
ings of  peace.     Sliall  we  refuse  her?" 

"  Austria  cannot  mediate  in  this  affair  unless  Russia  first  proposes 
it,  "said  Kaunitz,  in  a  listless  tone.  "The  court  of  Vienna  cannot 
make  propositions  to  Russia.  It  therefore  rests  with  your  majesty 
to  induce  the  Empress  Catharine  to  make  the  same  request  of 
Austria,  as  Turkey  has  made  of  us  both. " 

"I  will  iiroi)ose  it  to  the  empress,"  said  the  king  eagerly  ;  "and 
I  feel  sure  that  she  will  agree  to  do  so." 

Kaunitz  bowed  loftily.  "  Then, "  replied  he,  "  Austria  will  medi- 
ate ;  but  let  it  be  understood  that  the  peace  is  to  be  an  honorable 
one  for  Turkey,  and  that  Russia  ceases  any  further  aggression  in 
that  (juarter. " 

"The  Porte  will  be  under  the  necessity  of  making  some  conces- 
sions," said  the  king,  "since  he  it  is  whose  arms,  have  sustained 
reverses.  But  Turkey  may  still  remain  a  second-rate  power,  for  I 
think  that  Russia  will  be  satisfied  with  the  Crimea  and  the  Black 
Sea  "for  herself,  and  a  guaranty  of  independent  sovereigns  for 
WuUachia  and  Moldavia." 


RUSSIA  A  FOE  TO  ALL  EUROPE.  261 

"Independent  princes  appointed  by  Russia!"  cried  Kaunitz. 
"  My  imperial  sovereign  will  never  consent  to  have  a  Russian  prov- 
ince contiguous  to  Austria ;  and  should  Moldavia  and  Wallachia 
be  governed  by  hospodars  and  petty  despots,  their  pretended  inde- 
pendence would  soon  melt  away  into  a  Russian  dependency.  Austria, 
too,  would  esteem  it  a  great  misfortune  if  Russia  should  come  into 
possession  of  the  Crimea  and  the  Black  Sea.  Her  dominion  over 
the  Black  Sea  would  be  more  dangerous  to  Europe  than  an  extension 
of  her  territory.  Nothing,  in  short,  would  be  so  fatal  to  that  inde- 
pendence which  is  dear  to  all  nations,  as  the  cession  of  this  impor- 
tant ovitlet  to  Russia. "  * 

"  Your  highness  may  be  right, "  said  the  king  ;  "  and  Austria  has 
more  to  fear  from  this  dominion  than  Prussia  ;  for  the  Danube  is  a 
finger  of  the  Black  Sea,  which  might  be  used  to  seize  some  of  your 
fairest  provinces.  We  will  keep  this  in  view  when  we  enter  upon 
our  negotiations  with  Russia. " 

"  Before  we  begin  them  at  all,  we  must  exact  of  Russia  to  restore 
peace  to  Poland. " 

"All,  you  wish  to  draw  Poland  into  the  circle  of  intervention?" 
said  Frederick,  laughing. 

"The  court  of  Vienna  cannot  suffer  Russia  to  oppress  this  un- 
fortunate people  as  she  has  hitherto  done.  Not  only  has  she  forced 
Stanislaus  Augustus  upon  them,  but  she  has  also  compelled  them  to 
alter  their  constitution,  and,  in  the  face  of  all  justice,  her  armies 
occupy  Poland,  devastating  the  country,  and  oppressing  both  royal- 
ists and  republicans." 

"You  are  resolved  to  speak  of  Poland,"  said  Frederick,  again 
taking  so  large  a  pinch  of  snuff  that  it  bedaubed  not  only  his  face, 
but  his  white  Austrian  uniform.  He  brushed  it  off  with  his  fingers, 
and  shaking  his  head,  said:  "lam  not  neat  enough  to  wear  this 
elegant  dress.  I  am  not  worthy  of  wearing  the  Austrian  livery. "  f 
He  then  resumed  :  "  You  interest  j^ourself  in  Poland.  1  thought  that 
Polish  independence  had  been  thrown  to  the  winds.  I  thought, 
also,  that  your  highness  was  of  the  same  opinion  on  this  question  as 
the  Empress  Catharine,  who  says  that  she  neither  knows  where  Polish 
territory  begins  nor  where  it  ends.  Now  I  am  equally  at  a  loss  to 
know  what  is  and  what  is  not  Poland,  for  in  Warsaw  a  Russian 
army  seems  to  be  perfectly  at  home,  and  in  the  south  of  Poland  an 
Austrian  regiment  affirms  that  they  occupy  Polish  ground  by  com- 
mand of  the  Austrian  government. " 

"Your  majesty  is  pleased  to  speak  of  the  county  of  Zips.  Zips 
has  always  belonged  to  Hungary.  It  was  mortgaged  by  the  Emperor 
Sigismund  to  his  brother-in-law  Wladislaw  Jagello  for  a  sum  of 
money.  Hungary  has  never  parted  with  her  right  to  this  country  ; 
and,  as  we  have  been  compelled  to  send  troops  to  our  frontier  to 
watch  Russia,  the  opportunity  presents  itself  for  us  to  demonstrate 
to  Poland  that  Austria  can  never  consent  to  regard  a  mortgaged 
province  as  one  either  given  or  sold.  Zips  belongs  to  Austria,  and 
we  will  pay  back  to  the  King  of  Poland  the  sum  for  which  it  was 
mortgaged.     That  is  all. " 

"Yes,  but  it  will  be  difficult  not  only  for  Poland,  but  for  all 
Europe,  which  is  accustomed  to  consider  Zips  as  Polish  territory,  to 
remember  your  highness's  new  boundaries.     I,  for  my  part,  do  not 

*Tlie  prince's  own  words.    Ferrand,  i.,  p.  112. 
tThe  king's  own  words.    Ferrand,  p.  118. 


262  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

understand  it,  and  I  will  be  much  obliged  to  you  if,  according  to 
your  new  order  of  things,  you  will  show  nie  where  Hungary  ends 
and  Poland  begins. " 

"  Where  the  county  of  Zips  ends,  and  where  the  boundaries  of 
Hungary  began  in  olden  times,  there  the  line  that  separates  Austria 
from  Poland  should  be  drawn. " 

"Ah!"  sighed  the  king,  "you  speak  of  the  olden  time.  But  we 
must  settle  all  these  things  now  with  regard  to  the  present.  I  hap- 
pen, by  chance,  to  have  a  map  of  Poland  on  my  table.  Oblige  me 
now  by  showing  me  Poland  as  your  highness  understands  its 
boundaries. " 

The  king  stood  up,  and  unfolding  a  map,  laid  it  on  the  table. 
Kavmitz  also  rose,  and  stood  on  the  opposite  side. 

"  Now, "  said  Frederick,  "  let  me  see  the  county  of  Zips. " 


CHAPTER    LXIV. 

THE    MAP    OF    POLAND. 

"  Here,  your  majesty,  is  Zips, "  said  Kaunitz,  as  he  passed  his 
delicate  white  finger  over  the  lower  part  of  the  map. 

The  king  leaned  over,  and  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  moving 
finger.  For  some  time  he  kept  silence,  then  he  raised  his  head,  and 
met  the  gaze  of  the  prince. 

"A  very  pretty  piece  of  land  which  Austria  takes  from  her 
neighbor,"  said  lie,  with  a  piercing  glance  at  Kaunitz. 

"Austria  takes  nothing  from  her  neiglibor,  sire,  except  that 
which  belongs  to  her,"  replied  Kaimitz,  quietly. 

"  How  very  fortunate  it  is  that  this  particular  piece  of  land  should 
belong  to  Austria !"  said  the  king,  with  a  slight  sneer.  "  You  see 
that  Poland,  who  for  so  many  centuries  had  supposed  herself  to  be 
the  rightful  owner  of  the  Zips,  has,  in  virtue  of  such  ownership, 
projected  beyond  the  Carpathian  Mountains  quite  to  the  interior  of 
Hungary.  Now  a  wedge  of  that  sort  is  inconvenient,  perhaps  dan- 
gerous, and  it  is  lucky  for  Austria  that  she  has  found  out  her  right 
of  possession  in  that  quarter.  It  not  only  contracts  her  neighbor's 
domains,  but  essentially  increases  her  own.  It  now  concerns 
Austria  to  prove  to  Europ(>  her  right  to  this  annexation,  for  Europe 
is  somewhat  astonislu^d  to  hear  of  it." 

"In  the  court-chancery,  at  Vienna,  nro  the  documents  to  prove 
that  the  Zips  was  mortgaged  by  the  Emperor  Sigismund  to  his 
brother-in-law  Wladi.slaw,  in  the  year  1413,  for  the  sum  of  thirty- 
seven  thousand  grosclien." 

"Since  1412!"  cried  Frederick.  "Three  hundred  and  fifty-five 
years'  possession  on  the  part  of  Poland  lias  not  invulidated  the  title 
of  Austria  to  the  Zips !  My  lawful  claim  to  Silesia  was  of  more 
modern  date  than  tliis,  and  yet  Austria  would  have  made  it  appear 
that  it  was  superannuated." 

"Your  majesty  has  proved,  conclusively,  that  it  was  not  so," 
replied  Kaunitz,  with  a.  slight  inclination  of  the  bead. 

"Will  Austria  take  the  course  which  I  pursued  to  vindicate  my 
rightV"  asked  the  king,  quickly. 

"Stanislaus  will  not  allow  us  to  proceed  to  extremities,"   replied 


THE  MAP  OF  POLAND.  263 

the  Prince.  "  True,  he  complained  at  first,  and  wrote  to  the  empress- 
queen  to  demand  what  he  called  justice. " 

"  And  will  your  highness  inform  me  what  the  empress-queen 
replied  in  answer  to  these  demands?" 

"She  wrote  to  the  King  of  Poland  that  the  time  had  arrived 
when  it  became  incumbent  upon  her  to  define  the  boundaries  of  her 
empire.  That,  in  her  annexation  of  the  Zips  to  Austria,  she  was 
actuated,  not  by  auy  lust  of  territorial  aggrandizement,  but  by  a 
conviction  of  her  just  and  inalienable  rights.  She  was  prepared, 
not  only  to  assert,  but  to  defend  them  ;  and  she  took  this  opportunity 
to  define  the  lines  of  her  frontier,  for  the  reason  that  Poland  was 
in  a  state  of  internal  warfare,  the  end  of  which  no  man  could 
foresee. "  * 

"  If  I  were  King  of  Poland,  such  plain  language  as  this  would 
jjut  me  on  my  guard. " 

"  Sire,  if  you  were  King  of  Poland,  no  foreign  power  would  em- 
ploy such  language  toward  you,  "  said  Kauuitz,  with  a  half  smile. 

"That  is  true, "  replied  the  king,  shaking  his  head.  "The  King 
of  Poland  is  a.  weak,  good-natured  fellow.  He  cannot  forget  that  he 
has  been  the  lover  of  Catharine  of  Russia,  and  I  verily  believe,  that 
if  she  were  to  make  a  sign,  he  would  lay,  not  only  himself,  but  all 
Poland,  at  her  feet. " 

"Austria  would  never  suffer  her  to  accept  it,"  cried  Kaunitz. 

The  king  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "And  yet,  it  would  appear 
that  when  Zips  lay  at  her  feet,  the  Empress  of  Austria  was  ready  to 
embrace  it.  But  everybody  grows  eccentric  when  Poland  is  in 
question.  My  brother  Henry,  who  is  in  St.  Petersburg,  was  one 
day  discussing  this  matter  of  the  annexation  of  Zips  with  the  em- 
press. As  Catharine,  like  myself,  has  never  had  the  privilege  of 
e.xamining  the  records  in  the  court  of  chancery  at  Vienna,  she  ex- 
jiressed  some  doubt  as  to  tlie  justice  of  Austria's  appropriation  in 
that  quarter.  'It  seems, '  said  she,  'as  if  one  had  nothing  to  do  but 
stoop  down  to  pick  up  something  in  Poland. '  f  Now,  when  proud 
Austria  and  her  lofty  Kaunitz  condescend  to  stoop  and  pick  up, 
why  shall  not  other  people  follow  their  example'?  I,  too,  shall  be 
obliged  to  march  my  troops  into  Poland,  for  every  misfortune  seems 
about  to  visit  this  unhappy  land.  Who  kuows  that  in  the  archives 
at  Berlin  there  may  not  be  some  document  to  prove  that  I,  also, 
have  a  right  to  extend  the  lines  of  my  frontier?" 

While  Frederick  spoke',  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  face  of 
Prince  Kaunitz,  as  though  he  would  have  read  to  tlie  very  bottom 
of  his  soul.  The  latter  pretended  not  to  be  aware  of  it ;  he  looked 
perfectly  blank,  while  he  affected  to  be  still  interested  in  examining 
the  map. 

"  It  would  be  fortunate  if  your  majesty  could  discover  such  docu- 
ments in  your  archives,"  replied  he,  coolly.  "I  have  been  told  that 
you  have,  heretofore,  sought  for  them  in  Warsaw  ;  unhappily,  with- 
out being  able  to  find  any. " 

The  king  could  not  repress  a  slight  start  as  he  heard  this  revela- 
tion of  his  own  machinations.  Kaunitz  again  affected  to  see 
nothing,  although  he  was  looking  directly  in  the  king's  eyes. 

"I  say, "  continued  Kaunitz,  "that  it  would  be  most  fortunate  if, 
just  at  this  time,  your  majesty  could  recover  your  titles  to  that  por- 

♦Ferrand,  i.,  p.  94. 

t  Rulhiere's  "  History  of  Poland,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  210. 

18 


264  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

tion  of  Poland  which  lies  contiguous  to  Russia.  Austria,  I  assure 
you,  will  place  no  difficulties  in  the  way." 

"  Really, "  replied  the  king,  "  I  must  say  that  these  lines  form  a 
better  natural  frontier  than  my  present  boundaries."  Here  he 
passed  his  hand  somewhere  through  the  north-western  provinces  of 
Poland,  while  he  continued  :  "Would  my  word  suffice  if  I  were  to 
say  to  Austria  that  the  documents,  proving  my  right  to  this  terri- 
tory, are  to  be  found  in  the  archives  at  Berlin?" 

"Your  majesty's  word,  as  regards  this  question,  is  worth  more 
than  the  documents,"  said  Kaunitz,  deliberately. 

"  But  what  would  Catharine  say  ? — she  who  looks  upon  Poland  as 
her  own?" 

"If  she  says  any  thing,  it  is  high  time  she  w^ere  undeceived  in 
that  respect,"  said  Kaunitz,  hastily.  "She  must  be  satisfied  to 
share  equally  with  others.  Your  majesty  was  pleased  to  relate  to 
me  a  portion  of  the  conversation  between  the  empress  and  Prince 
Henry.  The  empress  said,  'It  seems  as  if  one  had  nothing  to  do  but 
stoop  down  to  pick  up  something  in  Poland. '  But  you  forgot  the 
sequel.  She  added  these  words  :  '  If  the  court  of  Vienna  begins  the 
dismemberment  of  Poland,  I  think  that  her  neighbors  have  a  right 
to  continue  it.  '"* 

"  Vraiment,  your  highness  has  ti-usty  reporters,  and  your  agents 
serve  you  admirably  !"  exclaimed  the  king. 

Kaunitz  bowed  haughtily. 

"We  are  your  majesty's  imitators,"  replied  he.  "First  during 
the  Silesian  war,  then  at  the  court  of  Dresden,  we  learned  from  you 
the  value  of  secret  information.!  Having  been  apprised  of  the 
remarkable  words  of  the  empress,  I  began  to  fear  that  she  might 
encroach  upon  Poland  without  regard  to  the  claims  of  Austria. 
Your  majesty  is  aware  that  the  Russian  army  occupy  Warsaw,  and 
that  a  cordon  of  Russian  troops  extend  as  far  as  the  frontiers  of 
Turkey. " 

"And  if  I  draw  my  cordon  beyond  the  district  of  Netz,"  cried 
the  king,  drawing  his  finger  across  the  map  as  if  it  had  been  a 
sword,  "and  Austria  extends  her  frontier  beyond  Galicia  and  the 
Zips,  the  republic  of  Poland  will  occupy  but  a  small  space  on  the 
map  of  Europe. " 

"The  smaller  the  better ;  the  fewer  Poles  there  are  in  the  world 
the  less  strife  there  will  be.  The  cradle  of  the  Poles  is  that  apple 
of  discord  which  Eris  once  threw  upon  the  table  of  the  gods  ;  they 
were  born  of  its  seeds,  and  dissension  is  their  native  element.  As 
long  as  ther(!  lives  a  Pole  on  the  earth,  that  Pole  will  breed  trouble 
among  his  neighbors. " 

"Ah!"  said  the  king,  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff,  "and  yet  your 
highness  was  indignant  at  Catharine  because  she  would  force  the 
Poles  to  keep  the  ])(>ace.  She  appears  to  Die  to  be  entirely  of  one 
mind  with  yourself.  She,  too,  looks  upon  Poland  as  the  apple  of 
Eris,  and  she  has  found  it  so  over-ripe  that  it  is  in  danger  of  falling 
from  the  tree.  She  has  stationed  her  gardener,  Stanislaus,  to  guard 
it.     Let  him  watch  over  it.     It  belongs  to  him,  and  if  it  come  to 

*  La  Roche  Aymon,  "  Vie  du  Prince  Henri,"  p.  171. 

tThroiifrh  his  aml)assaflor  at  Dresden,  Frederick  had  biibed  tlie  keeper  of  tlie 
Saxon  archives  to  .send  him  copies  of  t\w  secret  treaties  between  Austria  and  Saxony. 
He  (bd  even  worse,  for  the  attache  of  the  Austrian  embassy  at  Berhn  was  in  his  {)ay, 
and  he  sent  the  king:  copies  of  all  the  Austrian  dispatches. — L.  Milhlbach,  "Liite  of 
Frederick  the  Great." 


THE  MAP  OF  POLAND.  365 

• 

the  ground,  he  has  nobody  to  blame  but  himself.  Sleanwhile, 
should  it  burst,  we  will  find  means  to  prevent  it  from  soiling  us. 
Now  let  us  speak  of  Turkey.  That  unlucky  Porte  must  have  some- 
thing done  for  him,  and  while  we  mediate  in  his  behalf,  I  hope  to 
bring  about  a  good  understanding  between  Austria  and  Russia. 
Let  us  do  our  best  to  promote  a  general  peace.  Europe  is  bleeding 
at  every  pore  ;  let  us  bind  up  her  wounds,  and  restore  her  to  health. " 

"Austria  is  willing  to  promote  the  general  welfare,"  replied 
Kaunitz.  following  the  king's  example  and  rising  from  his  chair, 
"but  first  Russia  must  conclude  an  honorable  peace  with  Turkey, 
and  she  must  abandon  her  rapacious  designs  upon  the  rest  of  Europe. 
But  should  the  Empress  of  Russia  compel  us  to  war  with  her  on  this 
question  we  will  not  have  recourse  to  arms  until  we  have  found 
means  to  alienate  from  her  the  most  formidable  of  her  allies. " 

The  king  laughed.  "I  approve  your  policy,"  said  he,  "but  I  am 
curious  to  know  how  you  would  manage  to  prevent  me  from  keep- 
ing my  word.  I  am  certainly  pledged  to  Russia,  but  I  hope  that  the 
negotiations  into  which  we  are  about  to  enter  will  end  in  peace.  I 
shall  send  a  resume  of  our  conference  to  the  empress,  and  use  every 
effort  to  establish  friendly  relations  between  you. " 

"Will  your  majesty  communicate  her  reply  to  me?"  asked 
Kaunitz. 

"I  certainly  will ;  for  I  am  a  soldier,  not  a  diplomatist,  and  I  am 
so  much  in  love  with  truth  that  I  shall  be  her  devotee  until  the  last 
moment  of  my  life. " 

"  Ah,  sire,  a  man  must  be  a  hero  like  yourself  to  have  the  cour- 
age to  love  so  dangerous  a  mistress.  Truth  is  a  rose  with  a  thousand 
thorns.  He  who  plucks  it  will  be  wounded,  and  woe  to  the  head  of 
him  who  wears  it  in  his  crown  !" 

"You  and  I  have  fought  and  bled  too  often  on  the  field  of  diplo- 
macy to  be  tender  about  our  heads.  Let  us,  then,  wear  the  crown 
of  truth,  and  bear  with  its  thorns. " 

So  saying,  the  king  reached  out  his  hand,  and  Kaunitz  took  his 
leave. 

After  the  prince  had  left  the  room,  Frederick  remained  for  a  few 
minutes  listening,  until  he  heard  the  door  of  the  farther  anteroom 
closed. 

"  Now,  Hertzberg, "  cried  he,  "  come  out — the  coast  is  clear. " 

A  gigantic  screen,  which  divided  the  room  in  two,  began  to 
move,  and  forth  came  Count  Hertzberg,  the  king's  prime  minister. 

"Did  you  hear  it  all?"  asked  Frederick,  laughing. 

"I  did,  so  please  your  majesty." 

"  Did  you  write  it  down,  so  that  I  can  send  its  resume  to  the 
Empress  Catharine?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  as  far  as  it  was  possible  to  do  so,  I  have 
written  down  every  word  of  your  conference, "  said  Hertzberg,  with 
a  dissatisfied  expression  of  countenance. 

The  king  raised  his  large  eyes  with  an  inquiring  look  at  the  face 
of  his  trust}- minister.  "Are  you  not  satisfied,  Hertzberg?  AVhy  do 
you  shake  your  head?  You  have  three  wrinkles  in  your  foi-ehead, 
and  the  corners  of  your  mouth  turn  down  as  they  always  do  when 
something  has  displeased  you.  Speak  out,  man.  Of  what  do  you 
complain?" 

"First,  I  complain  that  your  majesty  has  allowed  the  old  fox  to 
perceive  that  you,  as  well  as  himself,  entertain  designs  upon  Po- 


266  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS   COURT. 

land,  and  that  in  a  manner  you  are  willing  to  guarantee  to  Austria 
her  theft  of  the  Zips.  I  also  complain  that  you  have  consented  to 
induce  Russia,  through  the  intervention  of  Austria,  to  make  peace 
with  Turkey." 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  the  king. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty  ;  that  is  all. " 

"Well,  tlien,  hear  my  defence.  As  regards  your  first  complaint, 
I  allowed  the  old  fox  (as  you  call  him)  to  scent  my  desire  for  Polish 
game,  because  I  wished  to  find  out  exactly  how  far  I  could  venture 
to  go  in  the  matter. " 

"Yes,  sire,  and  the  consequences  will  be,  that  Austria,  who  has 
already  appropriated  the  Zips,  will  stoop  down  to  pick  up  something 
else.  She  has  already  had  her  share  of  the  booty,  why  should  she 
divide  with  your  majesty?" 

"  Let  Austria  have  her  second  share, "  cried  the  king,  laughing. 
"It  will  earn  for  her  a  double  amount  of  the  world's  censure.*  As 
regards  your  second  complaint,  let  me  tell  you,  that  at  this  moment 
peace  is  indispensable  to  us  all,  and  for  this  reason  I  desire  to  bring 
Russia  and  Austria  into  friendly  relations  with  one  another.  I 
think  it  not  only  wiser  but  more  honorable  to  pacify  Europe  than  to 
light  the  torcli  of  war  a  second  time.  It  is  not  an  easy  matter 
to  secure  a  general  peace,  and  we  must  all  make  some  concessions  to 
achieve  a  result  sp  desirable.  Do  you  suppose  that  it  is  as  easy 
to  conciliate  unfriendly  powers  as  it  is  to  write  bad  verses?  I  assure 
you,  Hertzberg,  that  I  would  rather  sit  down  to  render  the  whole 
Jewish  history  into  madrigals,  than  undertake  to  fuse  into  una- 
nimity the  conflicting  interests  of  three  sovereigns,  when  two  out  of 
the  three  are  women  !  But  I  will  do  my  best.  When  your  neigh- 
bor's house  is  on  fire,  help  to  put  it  out,  or  it  may  communicate  and 
burn  down  your  own. "  f 


CHAPTER    LXV. 

THE  COUNTESS  WIELOPOLSKA. 

"You  really  think  that  he  will  come,  Matuschka?"  asked  the 
Countess  Wielopolska  of  lier  waiting- woman,  who,  standing  behind 
the  chair,  was  fastening  a  string  of  pearls  in  her  lady's  dusky  hair. 

"I  know  he  will  cou'.e,  your  ladyship."  replied  Matuschka' 

"  And  you  have  seen  tlie  emperor  and  spoken  to  him  !"  exclaimed 
the  countess,  pressing  lier  delicate  white  hands  upon  her  heart,  as 
though  slie  strove  to  im])rison  its  wild  emotions. 

"  Indeed  I  have,  my  lady. " 

"Oh,  tell  me  of  it  again,  Matuschka;  tell  me,  that  I  may  not 
fancy  it  a  dream  !"  cried  the  countess,  eagerly. 

"Well,  then,  my  lady,  I  took  your  note  to  the  palace,  where  the 
emp(>ror  has  given  jHisitive  orders  that  evi'ry  one  who  wishes  it  shall 
be  admitted  to  his  presence.  The  guard  before  the  door  let  me  pass 
into  the  antechamber.  One  of  the  lords  in  waiting  told  me  that  the 
emperor  would  be  there  l)efore  a  quarter  of  an  hoiu".  I  hnd  not 
waited  so  long  when  the  door  opened  and  a  handsome  young  man  in 

♦Tlic  kinj;"s  own  words.     Coxp,  "  History  of  Austria,  vol.  v.,  p.  20. 
tThe  king's  own  words.     "CEuvres  Posthumes,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  187. 


'  THE  COUNTESS  WIELOPOLSKA.  267 

a  plain  white  uniform  walked  in.  I  should  never  have  taken  him 
for  the  emperor,  except  that  the  lord  stood  up  so  straight  when  he 
saw  him.  Then  I  knelt  down  and  gave  the  letter.  The  emperor 
took  it  and  said  :  '  Tell  your  lady  that  I  am  not  prepared  to  receive 
ladies  in  my  palace ;  but  since  she  wishes  to  see  me,  I  will  go  to 
her.  If  she  will  be  at  home  this  evening,  I  will  find  time  to  call 
upon  her  myself. ' " 

"  Ah  !"  cried  the  countess,  "  he  will  soon  be  here.  I  shall  see  him 
— speak  to  him — pour  out  tlie  longings  of  my  bursting  heart !  Oh, 
Matuschka,  as  the  moment  approaches,  I  feel  as  if  I  could  fly  away 
and  plunge  into  the  wild  waters  of  the  Vistula  that  bear  my  hus- 
band's corpse,  or  sink  lifeless  upon  the  battle-field  that  is  reddened 
with  the  blood  of  my  brothers.  '" 

"Do  not  think  of  these  dreadful  things,  dear  lady,"  said  Ma- 
tuschka, trying  to  keep  back  her  tears;  "it  is  twilight,  and  the  em- 
peror will  soon  be  here.  Look  cheerful — for  you  are  as  beautiful  as  an 
angel  when  you  smile,  and  the  emperor  will  be  much  more  apt 
to  be  moved  by  your  smiles  than  by  your  tears." 

"You  are  right,  Matuschka, "  cried  the  countess,  rising  hastily 
from  her  seat.  "I  will  not  weep,  for  I  must  try  to  find  favor  in  the 
emperor's  eyes." 

She  crossed  the  room  and  stood  before  a  Psyche,  where  for  some 
time  she  scrutinized  her  own  features  ;  not  with  the  self-complacency 
of  a  vain  woman,  but  with  the  critical  acuteness  of  an  artist  who 
contemplates  a  fine  picture.  Gradually  her  eyes  grew  soft  and  her 
mouth  rippled  with  a  smile.  Like  a  mourning  Juno  she  stood  in 
the  long  black  velvet  dress  that  sharply  defined  the  outlines  of  her 
faultless  bust  and  fell  in  graceful  folds  around  her  stately  figure. 
Her  bodice  was  clasped  by  an  agraffe  of  richest  pearls ;  and  the 
wliite  throat  and  the  jewel  lay  together,  pearl  beside  pearl,  each 
rivalling  the  snowy  lustre  of  the  other.  Had  it  not  been  for  those 
starry  eyes  that  looked  out  so  full  of  mournful  splendor,  lier  face 
might  have  seemed  too  statues(iue  in  its  beauty  ;  but  from  their 
dark  deptlis  all  the  enthusiasm  of  a  nature  that  had  concentrated  its 
every  emotion  into  one  master-passion,  lit  up  her  face  with  flashes 
that  came  and  went  like  summer  lightning. 

"Yes,  lam  beautiful,"  whispered  she,  while  a  sad  smile  played 
around  her  exquisite  moutli.  "My  beauty  is  the  last  weapon  left 
me  wherewith  to  battle  for  Poland.  I  must  take  advantage  of  it. 
Life  and  honor,  wealth  and  blood,  every  thing  for  my  country  !" 

She  turned  to  her  waiting- woman  as  a  queen  would  have  done 
who  was  dismissing  her  subjects. 

"  Go,  Matuscbka, "  said  she,  "  and  take  some  rest.  You  have  been 
laboring  for  me  all  day,  and  I  cannot  bear  to  think  that  the  only 
friend  left  me  in  this  world  should  be  overtasked  for  me.  Some- 
times yovi  look  at  me  as  my  mother  once  did  ;  and  then  I  dream  that 
I  feel  her  hand  laid  lovingly  upon  my  head,  and  hear  her  dear  voice 
exhorting  me  to  pray  that  God  would  bless  me  with  strength  to  do 
my  duty  to  my  bleeding  country. " 

Matuschka  fell  upon  her  knees  and  kissed  the  hem  of  her  mis- 
tiness's  robe. 

"  Do  not  give  way, "  sobbed  she,  "  do  not  grieve  now. " 

The  countess  did  not  hear.  She  had  thrown  back  her  head  and 
was  gazing  absently  above.  "Oh,  yes,  lam  mindful  of  my  duty, " 
murmured  she.     "  I  have  not  forgotten  the  vow  I  made  to  my  mother 


268  JOSEPH   II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

and  sealed  upon  her  dying  lips  with  my  last  kiss  !  I  have  been  a 
faithful  daughter  of  my  fatherland.  I  have  given  every  thing — there 
remains  nothing  but  myself,  and  oh,  how  gladly  would  I  give  my 
life  for  Poland  !  But  God  has  forsaken  us ;  His  eyes  are  turned 
away !" 

"Accuse  not  the  Lord,  dear  lady,"  prayed  Matuschka.  "Put 
your  trust  in  Him,  and  take  courage. " 

"It  is  true.  I  have  no  right  to  accuse  my  Maker, "  sighed  the 
countess.  "When  the  last  drop  of  Polish  blood  is  spent  and  the  last 
Polish  heart  is  crushed  beneath  the  tramp  of  the  enemy's  hosts, 
then  it  will  be  time  to  cry  to  Heaven  !  Rise,  Matuschka,  and  weep 
no  more.  All  is  not  yet  lost.  Let  us  hope,  and  labor  that  hope  may 
become  reality,  and  Poland  may  be  free  !" 

She  reached  her  hand  to  Matuschka  and  passed  into  an  adjoining 
room.  It  was  the  state  apartment  of  tlie  inn,  and  was  always  re- 
served for  distinguished  guests.  It  had  been  richly  furnished,  but 
the  teeth  of  time  had  nibbled  many  a  rent  in  the  old-fashioned 
furniture,  the  faded  curtains,  and  the  well-worn  carpet.  Matuschka, 
however,  had  given  an  air  of  some  elegance  to  the  place.  On  the 
carved  oak  table  in  the  centre  stood  a  vase  of  flowers  ;  and,  that  her 
dear  mistress  might  have  something  to  remind  her  of  home, 
Matusclika  had  pi-ocured  a  piano,  to  which  the  countess,  when 
weary  of  her  thoughts,  might  confide  the  hopes  and  fears  that  were 
surging  in  her  storm-tossed  heart. 

The  piano  was  open,  and  a  sheet  of  music  lay  on  the  desk.  As 
the  countess  perceived  it,  she  walked  rapidly  toward  the  instrument 
and  sat  down  before  it. 

"I  will  sing, "said  she.  "The  emperor  loves  music,  above  all 
things  the  music  of  Gluck. " 

She  turned  over  the  leaves,  and  then  said,  softly  : 

" '  Orpheus  and  Eurydice  !'  La  Bernasconi  told  me  that  this  was 
his  favorite  opei-a.     Oli,  that  I  knew  which  aria  he  loved  the  best?" 

She  struck  a  few  chords,  and  in  a  low  voice  began  to  sing. 
Gradually  her  beautiful  features  lost  their  sadness,  she  seemed  to 
forget  herself  and  her  sorrows,  and  to  yield  up  her  soul  to  the  influ- 
ence of  Gluck's  heavenly  music.  And  now,  with  all  the  power,  the 
melody,  the  pathos  of  her  matchless  voice,  she  sang,  "C/ie  faro 
senza  Eurydice ! " 

The  more  she  sang,  the  brighter  grew  her  lovely  face.  Forgetful 
of  all  things  annmd,  she  gave  herself  wholly  up  to  the  inspiration 
of  the  liour,  and  from  its  fountains  of  harmony  she  drew  sweetest 
draughts  of  consolation  and  of  liope. 

The  door  had  opened,  and  she  l\ad  not  lieard  it.  On  the  thresh- 
old stood  the  (nnperor,  followed  by  Matuschka,  while  the  countess, 
all  unmindful,  filled  the  air  with  srains  so  divine,  tliat  they  might 
have  been  the  marriage-hymns  of  Love  wedded  to  Song. 

The  emperor  had  stopped  for  a  moment  to  listen.  His  face, 
which  at  first  liad  worn  an  expression  of  smiling  fli])panc}%  now 
changed  its  as[)ect.  He  recognized  the  music,  and  felt  his  heart 
beat  wildly.  With  a  commanding  gesture,  he  motioned  Matuschka 
to  withdraw,  and  noiselessly  closed  the  door. 


THE  EMPEROR  AND  THE  COUNTESS.  269 

CHAPTER     LXVI. 

THE  EMPEROR  AND  THE  COUNTESS. 

The  countess  continued  to  sing,  although  Joseph  had  advanced 
as  far  as  the  centre  of  the  room.  The  thickness  of  the  carpet  made 
his  footfall  inaudible.  He  stood  with  his  right  hand  resting  upon 
the  oak  table,  while  he  leaned  forward  to  listen,  and  one  by  one  the 
dead  memories  of  his  youthful  love  came  thronging  around  his 
heart,  and  filling  it  with  an  ecstasy  that  was  half  joy  and  half 
sorrow. 

More  and  more  impassioned  grew  the  music,  while  the  air  was 
ti-emulous  with  melody.  It  softened  and  softened,  until  it  melted 
away  in  sobs.  The  hands  of  the  enchantress  fell  from  the  keys  ;  she 
bowed  her  head,  and  leaning  against  the  music,  burst  into  tears. 

The  emperor,  too,  felt  the  tear-drops  gather  in  his  eyes;  he 
dashed  them  away,  and  went  rapidly  up  to  the  piano. 

"Countess,"  said  he,  in  his  soft,  mellow  tones,  "I  felt  it  no  in- 
discretion to  listen  unseen  to  your  heavenly  music,  but  no  one  save 
God  has  a  right  to  witness  your  grief. " 

She  started,  and  rising  quickly,  the  emperor  saw  the  face  of  the 
lady  who  had  thrown  him  the  wreath. 

"It  is  she!"  cried  he,  "the  beautiful  Confederate!  I  thank  you 
from  my  heart  for  the  favor  you  have  done  me,  for  I  have  sought 
you  for  some  days  in  vaiu. " 

"Your  majesty  sought  me?"  said  she,  smiling.  "Then  I  am  sure 
that  you  are  ready  to  sympathize  with  misfortune." 

"Do  you  need  sympathy?"  asked  he,  eagerly. 

"Sire,  I  am  a  daughter  of  Poland,"  replied  she. 

"  And  the  Wielopolskas  are  among  the  noblest  and  richest  of 
Poland's  noble  families." 

"  Noble  !  Rich  !  Our  castles  have  been  burned  by  the  Russians, 
our  fields  have  been  laid  waste,  our  vassals  have  been  massacred, 
and  of  our  kinsmen,  some  have  died  under  the  knout,  while  others 
drag  out  a  life  of  martyrdom  in  Siberia. " 

"  One  of  the  Counts  Wielopolska  was  a  favorite  of  the  king,  was 
he  not?"  asked  Joseph,  much  moved. 

"He  was  my  husband,"  replied  she,  bitterly.  "Heedless  of  his 
countrymen's  warnings,  he  believed  in  the  patriotism  of  Stanislaus. 
When  he  saw  his  error,  he  felt  that  he  merited  death,  and  expiated 
his  fault  by  self-destruction.     His  grave  is  in  the  Vistula. " 

"Unhappy  wife!"  exclaimed  the  emperor.  "And  had  you  no 
other  kinsman?" 

"  I  had  a  father  and  three  brothers. " 

"You  had  them?" 

"Yes,  sire,  but  I  have  them  no  longer.  My  brothers  died  on  the 
field  of  battle  ;  my  father,  oh,  my  father  !— God  grant  that  he  be  no 
more  among  the  living,  for  he  is  in  Siberia  !  " 

The  emperor  raised  his  hands  in  horror  ;  then  extending  them  to 
the  countess,  he  took  hers,  and  said  in  a  voice  of  deepest  sympathy  : 
"I  thank  you  for  coming  to  me.  Tell  me  your  plans  for  the  future, 
that  I  may  learn  how  best  I  may  serve  you. " 

"Sire,  I  have  none,"  sighed  she.  "Life  is  so  mournful,  that  I 
long  to  close  my  eyes  forever  upon  its  tragedies,  but — " 


270  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"But  what?" 

"I  should  then  be  robbed  of  the  sight  of  him  who  has  promised 
succor  to  my  fatherland, "  cried  she,  passionately,  while  she  sank 
upon  her  knees  and  clasped  her  hands  convulsively  together. 

Joseph  bent  over,  and  would  have  raised  her  from  the  floor.  "  It 
ill  becomes  such  beauty  to  kneel  before  me, "  said  he,  softly. 

"Let  me  kneel,  let  me  kneel!"  exclaimed  she,  while  her  beauti- 
ful eyes  suffused  with  tears.  "Here,  at  your  feet,  let  me  implore 
your  protection  for  Poland  !  Have  mercy,  sire,  upon  the  Confeder- 
ates, whose  only  crime  is  their  resistance  to  foreign  oppression. 
Eeach  out  your  imperial  hand  to  them,  and  bid  them  be  free,  for 
they  must  either  be  slaves,  or  die  by  their  own  hands.  Emperor  of 
Austria,  save  the  children  of  Sobieski  from  barbarous  Russia !" 

"Do  not  fear, "  replied  Joseph,  kindly.  "I  promised  the  Con- 
federates that  Austria  would  recognize  their  envoy,  and  I  will 
redeem  my  word.  Rise,  countess,  I  implore  you,  rise,  and  may  the 
day  not  be  distant  when  I  shall  extend  my  hand  to  Poland  as  I  now 
do  to  you.  You  have  a  pledge  of  my  sincerity,  in  the  fact  that  we 
have  both  a  common  enemy,  and  it  will  not  be  my  fault  if  I  do 
not  oppose  her,  sword  in  hand.  Still,  although  men  call  me  em- 
peror, I  am  the  puppet  of  anotlier  will.  The  crown  of  Austria  is  on 
my  mother's  head ;  its  shadow,  alone,  is  upon  mine.  I  speak 
frankly  to  you  ;  but  our  acquaintance  is  peculiar,  and,  by  its  nature, 
has  broken  down  the  ordinary  barriers  of  conventional  life.  Your 
songs  and  your  tears  have  spoken  directly  to  my  heart,  recalling  the 
only  happy  days  that  I  have  ever  known  on  earth.  But  I  am  grow- 
ing sentimental.  You  will  pardon  me,  I  know,  for  you  are  a 
woman,  and  liave  known  what  it  is  to  love. " 

She  slowly  shook  her  head.  "No.  sire,"  replied  she,  "I  have 
never  known  what  it  was  to  love." 

The  emperor  looked  directly  in  her  eyes.  She!  Beautiful  and 
majestic  as  Hera, — she,  not  know  what  it  was  to  love  !  "And  your 
husband — "  asked  he. 

"  I  was  married  to  him  as  Poland  was  given  to  Stanislaus.  I 
never  saw  him  until  he  became  my  husband. " 

"And  your  heart  refused  allegiance f 

"Sire,  I  have  never  yet  seen  the  man  who  was  destined  to  reign 
over  my  heart. " 

"Ah,  you  are  proud!  I  envy  him  who  is  destined  to  conquer 
that  enclianting  domain." 

She  looked  for  one  moment  at  the  emperor,  and  then  said,  blush- 
ing :  "Sire,  my  heart  will  succumb  to  him  who  rescues  Poland. 
With  rapture  it  will  acknowledge  him  as  lord  and  sovereign  of  my 
being. " 

The  emperor  made  no  reply.  He  gazed  with  a  significant  smile 
at  the  lovely  enthusiast,  until  she  blushed  again,  and  her  eyes  sought 
the  ground. 

"Ah,  countess,"  said  Joseph,  after  a  pause,  "if  all  the  women  of 
Poland  wer(>  of  your  mind,  a  multitudinous  army  would  soon  flock 
to  her  standard. " 

"Every  Polish  woman  is  of  one  mind  with  me.  We  are  all  tlie 
daughters  of  one  mother,  and  our  love  for  her  is  stronger  than 
death." 

Tlie  emperor  shook  his  head.  "Were  this  true,"  replied  he, 
"Poland  would  never  have  fallen  as  she  has  done.     But   far  be  it 


THE  EMPEROR  AND  THE  COUNTESS.  271 

from  me  to  heap  reproaches  upon  the  unfortunate.  I  will  do  what 
it  lies  in  my  power  to  do  for  the  Poles,  provided  they  are  willing  to 
second  my  efforts  for  themselves.  If  they  would  have  peace,  how- 
ever, with  other  nations,  they  must  show  strength  and  unity  of 
purpose  among  themselves.  Until  they  can  stand  before  the  world 
in  the  serried  ranks  of  a  national  vmanimity,  they  must  expect  to 
be  assailed  by  their  rapacious  neighbors.  But  let  us  forget  politics 
for  a  moment.  I  long  to  speak  to  you  of  yourself.  What  are  your 
plans?    How  can  I  serve  you?" 

"  Sire,  I  have  no  plans.  I  ask  nothing  of  the  world  but  a  place 
of  refuge,  where  I  can  soitow  unseen. " 

"  You  are  too  young,  and,  pardon  me,  if  I  add,  too  beautiful,  to 
fly  from  the  world.  Come  to  Vienna,  and  learn  from  me  how  easy 
it  is  to  live  without  happiness. " 

"Your  majesty  will  allow  me  to  go  to  Vienna?"  cried  the  count- 
ess, joyfully.  "Ever  since  I  have  felt  that  I  could  do  nothing  for 
Poland,  I  have  longed  to  live  in  Vienna,  that  I  might  breathe  the 
same  atmosphere  with  your  majesty  and  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa. 
You  are  the  only  sovereigns  in  Europe  who  have  shown  any  com- 
passion for  the  misfortunes  of  my  country,  and  before  your  generous 
sympathy  my  heart  bows  down  in  gratitude  and  admiration. " 

"Say  you  so,  proud  heart,  that  has  never  bowed  before?"  ex- 
claimed the  emperor,  smiling,  and  taking  the  countess's  white  hand 
in  his.  "  Come,  then,  to  Vienna,  not  to  do  homage,  but  to  receive  it, 
for  nothing  becomes  your  beauty  more  than  pride.  Come  to  Vienna, 
and  I  will  see  that  new  friends  and  new  ties  awaken  your  heart  to 
love  and  happiness. " 

"  I  have  one  relative  in  Vienna,  sire,  the  Countess  von  Salmour. " 

"Ah!  one  of  the  empress's  ladies  of  honor.  Then  you  will  not 
need  my  protection  there,  for  the  countess  is  in  high  favor  with  the 
empress  ;  and  I  may  say,  that  she  has  more  influence  at  court  than 
I  have. " 

"Sire,"  said  the  countess,  raising  her  large  eyes  with  an  appeal- 
ing look,  "I  shall  go  to  Vienna,  if  I  go  under  your  majesty's  pro- 
tection and  with  your  sanction. " 

"  You  shall  have  both,"  reiilied  Joseph,  warmly.  "I  will  write 
to  my  mother  to-day,  and  you  shall  present  my  letter.  When  will 
you  leave?  I  dare  not  ask  you  to  tai'ry  hei-e,  for  this  is  no  place  for 
lovely  and  unprotected  women.  Moreover,  the  King  of  Prussia  has 
no  sympathy  with  Poland,  and  he  will  like  you  the  less  for  the 
touching  appeal  you  made  in  her  behalf  when  you  sang  at  the  con- 
cert. Greet  the  empress  for  me,  and  let  me  hope  that  you  will  stir 
her  heart  as  you  have  stirred  mine.  And  now  farewell.  My  time 
has  expired :  the  King  of  Prussia  expects  me  to  supper.  I  must 
part  from  you,  but  I  leave  comforted,  since  I  am  enabled  to  say  in 
parting,  '  Au  revoir. '" 

He  bowed,  and  turned  to  quit  the  room.  But  at  the  door  he 
spoke  again. 

"If  I  ever  win  the  right  to  claim  any  thing  of  you,  will  you  sing 
for  me  the  aria  that  I  found  you  singing  to-night?" 

"  Oh  !  your  majesty, "  said  the  countess,  coming  eagerly  forward, 
"  you  have  already  earned  the  right  to  claim  whatsoever  you  desire 
of  me.  I  can  never  speak  my  gratitude  for  your  condescension  ;  per- 
haps music  will  speak  for  me.  How  gladly,  then,  will  I  sing  when 
you  command  me !" 


272  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  I  shall  claim  the  promise  in  Vienna, "  said  he,  as  he  left  the 
room. 

The  countess  remained  standing  just  where  he  had  met  her, 
breathlessly  listening  to  his  voice,  which  for  a  while  she  heard  in 
the  anteroom,  and  then  to  the  last  echoes  of  his  retreating  steps. 

Suddenly  the  door  was  opened,  and  Matuschka,  with  joyful 
mien,  came  forward  with  a  purse  in  her  hand. 

"Oh,  my  lady, "  exclaimed  she,  "the  emperor  has  given  me  this 
purse  to  defray  our  expenses  to  Vienna  !" 

The  countess  started,  and  her  pale  face  suffused  with  crimson 
shame. 

"  Alms  !"  said  she,  bitterly.     "  He  treats  me  like  a  beggar  ! 

"  No,  lady, "  said  Matuschka  abashed  ;  "  the  emperor  told  me  that 
he  had  begged  you  to  go  to  Vienna  for  business  of  state,  and  that  he 
had  a  right  to  provide  the  expenses  of  our  journey  there.     He  said—" 

The  countess  waved  her  hand  impatiently.  "Go  back  to  the 
emperor, "  said  she  haughtily.  "  Tell  him  that  you  dare  not  offer 
this  purse  to  your  lady,  for  you  know  that  she  would  rather  die  than 
receive  alms,  even  from  an  emperor. " 

Matuschka  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  turned  away.  But  she  hesi- 
tated, and  looked  timidly  at  her  mistress,  whose  great,  glowing 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  in  unmistakable  displeasure. 

"  My  lady, "  said  she,  with  embarrassment,  "  I  will  do  your  bid- 
ding, but  you  who  have  been  so  rich  and  great,  know  nothing  of  the 
troubles  of  poverty.  Your  money  is  exhausted.  I  would  rather 
melt  my  own  heart's  blood  into  gold  than  tell  you  so  ;  but  indeed, 
dear  lady,  if  you  refuse  the  emperor's  gift  you  will  be  without  a 
kreutzer  in  your  purse. " 

The  countess  raised  her  hands  to  her  hair  and  unfastened  the 
Ijearl  wreath  with  which  Matuschka  had  decorated  it  in  anticipa- 
tion of  the  emperor's  visit. 

"There— take  this  and  sell  it.  You  will  readily  find  a  jeweller 
who  understands  its  value,  and  if  he  pays  us  but  the  half,  it  will  be 
twice  the  sum  which  you  hold  in  the  emperor's  purse." 

"  My  lady,  would  you  sell  your  family  jewels?  Have  you  forgot- 
ten that  your  family  are  pledged  not  to  sell  their  heirlooms?" 

"God  will  forgive  me  if  I  break  my  vow.  It  is  more  honorable 
to  part  witli  my  ancestral  jewels  than  to  receive  alms.  I  have  no 
heirs,  and  no  one  will  be  wronged  by  the  act.  I  have  but  my 
motlier— Poland.  For  her  I  am  ready  to  sacrifice  the  little  I  possess, 
aud  when  nothing  else  remains,  I  shall  yield  my  life.  Go,  Ma- 
tuschka, go !" 

Matuschka  took  the  wreath  and  wept.  "  I  go,  lady, "  sobbed  she. 
"This  will  last  you  for  half  a  year,  aud  then  the  armlets,  then  the 
diadem  of  brilliants,  the  bracelets,  and  the  necklace,  must  all  go. 
(}()(!  grant  you  may  live  so  long  on  tliese  family  treasures,  that  old 
Matuschka  may  be  spared  the  humiliation  of  selling  the  rest!  I 
nave  lived  too  long,  since  I  must  chaffer  witli  a  base-ttorn  trades- 
man for  the  jewels  that  were  the  royal  gift  of  John  Sobieski  to  my 
ladv's  noble  ancestors." 

She  raised  the  countess's  rolie  to  lier  lips,  aud  left  the  room. 
Her  mistress  looked  after  lier,  but  lier  tlioughts  were  wandering 
elsewhere.  Slowly  sinking  on  her  knees,  she  began  to  pray,  and 
the  l)nr(len  of  lier  prayer  was  this  • 

"  Oh,  my  God,  grant  that  1  may  win  his  love  1" 


MARIA  THERESA.  273 

CHAPTER     LXVII. 

MARIA  THERESA. 

The  pearls  were  sold,  the  countess  had  arrived  in  Vienna,  and 
she  was  in  the  presence  of  the  empress,  whom,  although  they  had 
never  met  before,  she  had  so  long  regarded  with  affectionate 
admiration. 

"I  rejoice  to  see  you,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  graciously  extending 
her  hand.  "  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  receive  a  relative  of  the  Countess 
von  Salmour.  But  you  liave  another  claim  upon  my  sympathy,  for 
you  are  a  Polish  woman,  and  I  can  never  forget  that,  but  for  John 
Sobieski,  Vienna  would  have  been  a  prey  to  the  infidel." 

"Upon  your  majesty's  generous  remembrance  of  Sobieski's  alli- 
ance rests  the  last  hope  of  Poland  !"  exclaimed  the  countess,  kneeling 
and  kissing  the  hand  of  the  empress.  "  God  has  inclined  to  her 
redemption  the  heart  of  the  noblest  woman  in  Europe,  and  through 
her  magnanimity  will  the  wicked  Empress  of  Russia  receive  her 
check.  Oh,  your  majesty,  that  woman,  in  the  height  of  her  arro- 
gance, believes  to-day  that  you  are  only  too  williiig  to  further  her 
rapacity  and  particij^ate  in  her  crimes  !" 

"  Never  shall  it  be  said  that  she  and  I  have  one  thought  or  one 
object  in  common  !''  cried  Maria  Theresa,  her  face  glowing  with 
indignation.  "  Let  her  cease  her  oppression  of  Poland,  or  the 
Austrian  eagle  will  seize  the  Russian  vulture  !" 

The  face  of  the  countess  grew  radiant  with  joy.  Raising  her 
beautiful  arms  to  heaven,  she  cried  out  exultingly  :  "'  King  of  kings. 
Thou  hast  heard !  Maria  Theresa  comes  to  our  help !  Oh,  your 
majesty,  how  many  thousand  hearts,  from  this  day,  will  bow  down 
in  homage  before  your  throne !  Hereafter,  not  God,  but  Maria 
Thei'esa,  will  be  our  refuge  !" 

"  Do  not  blaspheme, "  cried  the  empress,  crossing  herself.  "  I  am 
but  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  and  I  do  His  divine  will  on  earth.  God 
is  our  refuge  and  our  strength,  and  He  will  nerve  my  arm  to  over- 
come evil  and  work  out  good.  1  will  countenance  and  uphold  the 
Confederates,  because  it  is  my  honest  conviction  that  their  cause 
is  just,  and  that  they  are  the  only  party  in  Poland  who  act  in  honor 
and  good  faith."  * 

■'  Hitherto,  they  would  have  died  to  vindicate  that  honor  and  that 
faith  ;  now  they  will  live  to  defend  it  from  their  oppressors.  Oh, 
your  majesty,  pardon  me,  if,  in  my  rapture  at  your  goodness,  I  for- 
get what  is  due  to  your  exalted  station.  My  heart  will  burst  if  I 
may  not  give  utterance  to  my  joy.  I  am  a  lonely  creature,  with  no 
tie  but  that  which  binds  me  to  my  unhappy  mother,  Polonia !" 

"So  young,  and  without  home  or  kindred!"  said  the  empress, 
kindly.  "I  have  already  heard  of  your  misfortunes,  poor  child, 
from  my  son  the  emperor. " 

At  the  name  of  the  emperor,  the  countess's  pale  face  was  tinged 
with  a  faint  rosy  color.  The  empress  did  not  remark  it,  for  she  was 
already  thinking  what  a  pity  it  was  that  such  a  surpassingly  beauti- 
ful woman  should  be  a  widow  ;  that  such  an  enchanting  creature 
should  be  unloved  and  unwedded. 

"  You  are  too  handsome, "  said  she,  "  to  remain  single.  Woman 
*Tlie  empress's  owu  words.    See  Ferrand,  i.,  p.  79, 


274  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

was  made  for  love  and  marriage.  Happy  is  she  who  can  devote  her 
whole  heart  to  the  sweet  responsibilities  of  domestic  life,  and  who 
is  not  called  upon  to  assmne  the  duties  that  weigh  down  the  liead  of 
royalty. " 

While  the  empress  spoke,  her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  portrait 
of  the  Emperor  Francis,  which  still  hung  between  tlie  windows  in 
the  place  of  the  mirror,  wliieh  had  been  removed  from  its  frame. 
The  Countess  Wielopolska  had  been  admitted  to  the  gay  sitting- 
room. 

"Earthly  grandeur, "  continued  she,  "is  beset  with  pains  and 
cares  ;  but  the  happy  wife,  whose  subjects  are  her  own  dear  chil- 
dren, is  one  degree  removed  from  the  bliss  of  angels.  You  must 
marry,  my  dear,  and  I  will  find  for  you  a  brilliant porii." 

"I  am  poor,  your  majesty,  and  am  too  proud  to  enter  a  rich 
man's  palace  without  a  dowry. " 

"  You  shall  have  your  dowry.  I  shall  instruct  my  ambassador  at 
St.  Petersburg  to  demand  the  return  of  your  estates.  It  will  be  one 
good  deed  by  wliich  that  woman *"may  expiate  some  of  her  many 
crimes.  Your  estates  once  restored,  you  will  be  an  equal  match  for 
any  nobleman  in  Europe. " 

"If  I  should  receive  my  estates  through  your  majesty' 's  interces- 
sion," replied  the  countess,  "my  home  would  be  an  asylum  for  all 
the  unfortiinate  Poles.  I  should  think  it  treason  to  dream  of  j^er- 
sonal  happiness,  while  Poland  lies  shackled  and  bleeding. " 

"  But  Poland  shall  be  free  !"  cried  the  empress,  with  enthusiasm. 
"With  tlie  cooperation  of  France,  the  voice  of  Austria  will  be  so 
loud  that  Russia  will  hear,  and  withdraw  her  unjust  claims.  We 
will  strike  off  the  fetters  of  Poland,  while  we  forge  a  gentle  chain 
for  the  Countess  Wielopolska ;  a  chain  that  falls  so  lightly  upon 
woman,  that  its  burden  is  sweeter  than  freedom." 

"Your  majesty  must  forgive  me,"  reiterated  the  countess;  "I 
have  sworn,  on  my  mother's  grave,  that  as  long  as  I  can  be  useful, 
I  will  live  for  Poland.  Should  she  regain  her  freedom,  I  will  retire 
to  a  convent,  where  everj^  breath  I  draw  shall  be  a  thanksgiving  to 
God.  Should  she  be  doomed  to  slavery,  she  will  need  her  sons  and 
daugliters  no  more,  and  then  I  will  die.  Your  majesty  sees  that  I 
am  already  betrothed.  I  shall  soon  be  the  bride  of  Heaven,  or  the 
bride  of  Death." 

"The  l)ride  of  Heaven!"  repeated  the  empress,  her  eyes  swim- 
ming with  tears.  "Then  be  it  so;  it  is  not  I  who  would  entice 
Mary  from  her  Master's  feet.  The  world  is  full  of  Marthas,  troubled 
about  many  things.  Go,  choose  the  better  part,  sweet  entliusiast, 
and  I  will  see  that  you  hav(!  ('ause  for  thanksgiving." 

She  reached  her  hand  to  the  countess,  who  kiss(Ml  it  and  with- 
drew. As  she  opeiu'd  the  door,  she  felt  the  bolt  txn-n  from  the 
outside. 

"  His  highness  Prince  Kaunitz, "  (;ried  a  page  ;  and  as  the  countess 
was  making  one  last  inc^lination  of  the  head,  the  tall,  slender  form 
of  Kaunitz  fdlcd  the  space  behind  lier. 

"Have  I  [x'rmissiou  to  enter,  your  majesty?"  said  the  min- 
ister. 

"You  are  always  welcome,  ])rince, "  replied  the  empress. 

Kaunitz  bowed  slightly,  and  as  he  raised  his  cold  eye  to  the  face 
of  the  countess,  a  faint  siiiil(>  flitted  over  his  features,  but  it  was 
♦The  words  by  wliich  Marki  Theresa  always  dosiguated  Catharine. 


MARIA  ANTOINETTE  AND  COURT  ETIQUETTE.         275 

followed  by  a  sneer.  Without  acknowledging  her  presence  by  the 
smallest  courtesy,  he  advanced  to  the  empi-ess,  and  the  door  closed 
upon  Poland  forever. 


CHAPTER    LXVIII. 
MARIE  ANTOINETTE   AND   COURT  ETIQUETTE. 

"  Letters  from  France,  your  majesty, "  said  Kaunitz,  and  the 
face  of  tlie  empress  grew  bright  as  she  recognized  the  handwriting 
of  lier  daughter. 

"The  daupliiness  is  well?"  said  she.  "Next  to  her  dear  self ,  I 
love  to  see  her  writing.  Ah,  I  have  grown  very  lonely  since  my 
little  Antoinette  has  left  me  !  One  by  one  my  children  go  ;  one  dear 
face  alone  remains, "  continued  she,  pointing  to  tlie  portrait  of  the 
emperor.  Then  looking  at  the  letters  in  the  hands  of  the  prince, 
she  said  : 

"  Have  yow  good  news?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty.  The  daupliiness  is  adored  by  the  French 
people.  They  repeat  her  bon  mots,  write  odes  and  madrigals  to  her 
beauty,  and  hang  up  her  portrait  in  tlieir  houses.  When  she  drives 
out  in  her  caleehe  they  impede  its  progress  with  their  welcomes  ;  and 
when  she  appears  at  the  theatre,  the  prima  donnas  are  forgotten. 
Half  a  year  ago,  when  she  made  her  entry  into  Paris  and  more  than 
a  hundred  thousand  people  went  out  to  meet  her,  the  Duke  de  Brissac 
said,  '  Madame,  you  have  one  hundred  thousand  lovers,  and  j^et  the 
dauphin  will  never  be  jealous  of  them. '  *  The  dear  old  Duke  !  He 
little  knew  what  literal  truth  he  spoke  of  the  dauphin  on  that 
occasion. " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  empress,  hastily.  "I  know  by 
the  expression  of  your  face  that  you  have  something  unpleasant  to 
tell." 

"I  mean  to  say  the  dauphin  is  not  jealous,  because  he  is  the  only 
man  in  France  who  is  not  in  love  witli  the  dauphiness. " 

The  empress  turned  scarlet.  "This  is  a  serious  charge  which 
you  ])resume  to  make  against  the  dauphin, "  said  she,  frowning. 

"It  is  unhappily  true,"  replied  Kaunitz,  coolly, 

"The  dauphiness  makes  no  mention  of  such  a  state  of  things  in 
her  letter.     It  does  not  breathe  a  word  of  complaint. " 

"Perhaps  the  dauphiness,  in  the  innocence  of  her  heart,  has  no 
idea  of  the  grounds  which  she  has  for  complaint. " 

The  empress  looked  displeased.  "  Do  you  know  that  your  lan- 
guage is  offensive?"  said  she.  "You  assert  that  the  dauphin  is 
insensible  to  the  charms  of  his  beautiful  young  wife.  " 

"Your  majesty  well  knows  that  I  never  assert  a  falsehood.  The 
d^iuphiu  is  not  in  love  with  his  wife,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  she 
has  an  advocate  at  the  court  of  Louis  XV.  Since  the  shameless 
partisans  of  Du  Barry  have  triumphed  over  the  noble  Duke  of 
Choiseul,  the  dauphiness  is  without  a  friend.  The  Duke  d' Arguillon 
is  anti-Austrian,  and  your  majesty  knows  what  an  enemy  to  Austria 
was  the  fa,ther  of  the  dauphin." 

"Why  do  you  seek  to  torture  me,  Kaunitz?"  said  the  empress, 

*"  Memoirs  of  Madame  de  Campan,"  vol.  i.,  p.  60. 


276  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

impatiently.     "  You  are  not  telling  me  all  this  for  nothing.     Say  at 
once  what  you  have  to  say. " 

"  Your  majesty  has  not  yet  read  the  letter  which  I  had  the  honor 
of  handing  to  you  just  now,  I  believe,"  said  Kaunitz. 

Maria  Theresa  took  up  the  letter  from  the  gueridon  on  which  she 
had  laid  it,  and  began  to  look  it  over. 

"  It  is  true, "  sighed  she.  "  The  dauphiness  complains  of  solitude 
'  Since  the  Duke  de  Choiseul  has  left, '  writes  she,  '  I  am  alone,  and 
without  a  friend. '  You  are  right.  The  dauphiness  is  in  danger. 
She  writes  that  her  enemies  are  intriguing  to  part  her  from  the 
dauphin.  They  attempted  in  Fontainebleau  to  assign  her  a  suite  of 
apartments  remote  from  those  of  her  husband. " 

"Yes,  the  anti-Austi"ian  party,  seeing  that  he  is  indifferent  to 
her,  are  doing  their  best  to  convert  this  indifference  into  dislike. 
But  the  dauphiness  saw  through  the  affair,  and  complained  to  the 
king." 

"That  was  right  and  bold  !"  cried  the  empress,  joyfully. 

"  Yes,  it  was  bold,  for  it  gained  another  enemy  for  the  dauphiness. 
She  should  have  spoken  to  the  king  thi-ough  the  Duke  d'Arguillon, 
instead  of  which  she  applied  to  his  majesty  herself.  The  duke  will 
never  forgive  her ;  and  when  the  Duchess  de  Noailles  reproved  the 
dauphiness,  she  replied  that  she  would  never  take  counsel  of  eti- 
quette where  her  family  affairs  were  concerned.  The  consequence 
is  that  the  duchess  also  has  gone  over  to  the  enemy." 

"To  the  enemy?"  exclaimed  the  empress,  anxiously.  "Has  she, 
then,  other  enemies?" 

"  Madame  de  Marsan,  the  governess  of  the  sisters  of  the  dauphin, 
will  never  forgive  her  for  having  interfered  in  the  education  of  the 
young  princesses. " 

"But  surely  the  daughters  of  the  king  will  be  kind  to  my  poor 
Marie  Antoinette !"  exclaimed  the  empress,  ready  to  burst  into 
tears.  "They  promised  to  love  her;  and  it  is  but  natural  and 
womanly  that  they  should  shun  the  party  which  upliolds  the  profli- 
gate woman  who  rules  the  King  of  France  !" 

Prince  Kaunitz  slightly  elevated  his  shoulders.  "Madame  Ade- 
laide, the  eldest,  until  the  marriage  of  the  dauphin,  held  the  first 
place  at  court.  Now,  the  dauphiness  lias  precedence  of  her,  and  the 
court  card-parties  are  held  in  her  apartments.  Madame  Adelaide, 
therefor(\  has  refused  to  be  present,  and  retires  to  her  own  rooms, 
where  slio  holds  rival  card-parties  which  are  attended  by  the  anti- 
Austrians,  wlio  are  opposed  to  Du  Barry.  This  is  the  second  party 
who  intrigue  against  the  dauphiness. — Madame  Sophie  perchance 
remembers  her  in  her  prayers  ;  but  she  is  too  pious  to  be  of  use  to 
anybody.  Madame  Victoire,  who  really  loves  the  daupliiness,  is  so 
sickly,  that  she  scarcely  ever  leaves  her  room.  For  a  while  slie  held 
little  reunions  there,  which,  being  very  pleasant,  were  for  a  while  at- 
tended by  the  dauphiness  ;  but  Madame  de  Noailles  objected,  and 
court  etiquette  required  that  they  should  be  discontinued." 

The  empress  had  risen  and  was  i>acing  the  floor  in  great  agita- 
tion. "So  young,  so  lovely,  and  slighted  by  her  husband!"  nmr- 
nuu-ed  she,  bitterly,  while  large  tear-drops  stood  in  lier  eyes.  "The 
daughter  of  the  Caesars  in  strife  with  a  king's  base-born  mistress 
and  a  vile  faction  who  hate  her  without  cause  !  And  I — her  mother 
— an  empress,  am  powerless  to  bel]»  lier  !" 

"No,   your  majesty,"  said  Kaunitz,  "not  altogether  powerless. 


MARIE   ANTOINETTE  AND  COURT   ETIQUETTE.         ?,71 

You  cannot  help  her  with  armies,  but  you  can  do  so  with  good  ad- 
vice, and  no  one  can  advise  lier  as  eflt'ectually  as  her  mother. " 

"Advise  her?  What  advice  can  I  give?"  cried  the  empress, 
angi-ily.  "Shall  I  counsel  her  to  attend  the  petits  soupers  of  the 
king,  and  truckle  to  his  mistress?  Never!  never!  My  daughter 
may  be  unhappy,  but  she  shall  not  be  dishonored  !" 

"  I  should  not  presume  to  make  any  such  proposition  to  the  dau- 
phiness, "  said  Kauuitz,  quietly.  "One  cannot  condescend  to  Du 
Barry  as  we  did  to  La  Pompadour.  The  latter  was  at  least  a  woman 
of  mind,  the  former  is  nothing  more  than  a  vulgar  beauty.  But 
there  is  another  lady  whose  influence  at  court  is  withovit  limit — one 
whom  Du  Barry  contemns,  but  whom  the  dauphiness  would  do  well 
to  conciliate. " 

"Of  what  lady  do  you  speak,  Kaunitz?" 

"  I  speak  of  Madame  Etiquette,  your  majesty.  She  is  a  stiff  and 
tiresome  old  dame,  I  gi-ant  you,  but  in  France  she  presides  over 
every  thing.  Without  her  the  royal  family  can  neither  sleep  nor 
wake  ;  they  can  neither  take  a  meal  if  they  be  in  health,  nor  a  purge 
if  they  be  indisposed,  without  her  everlasting  surveillance.  She 
directs  their  dress,  amusements,  associates,  and  behavior ;  she  pre- 
sides over  their  pleasures,  their  weariness,  their  social  hours,  and 
their  hours  of  solitude.  This  may  be  uncomfortable,  but  royalty 
cannot  escape  it,  and  it  must  be  endured. " 

"It  is  the  business  of  Madame  de  Noailles  to  attend  to  the  requi- 
sitions of  court  etiquette, "  said  the  empress,  impatiently. 

"  And  of  the  dauphiness  to  attend  to  her  representations, "  added 
Kaunitz. 

"  She  will  certainly  have  enough  discretion  to  conform  herself  to 
such  obligations  !" 

"  Your  majesty,  a  girl  of  fifteen  who  has  a  hundred  thousand 
lovers  is  not  apt  to  be  troubled  with  discretion.  The  dauphiness  is 
bored  to  death  by  Madame  de  Noailles' s  eternal  sermons,  and  therein 
she  may  be  right.  But  she  turns  the  mistress  of  ceremonies  into 
ridicule,  and  therein  she  is  wrong.  In  an  outburst  of  her  vexation 
the  dauphiness  one  day  called  her  'old  Madame  Etiquette, '  and,  as 
the  bon  mots  of  a  future  (jueen  are  apt  to  be  repeated,  Madame  de 
Noailles  goes  by  no  other  name  at  court.  Again — not  long  ago  the 
dauphiness  gave  a  party  of  pleasure  at  Versailles.  The  company 
were  mounted  on  donkeys. " 

"On  donkeys  !"  cried  the  empress  with  horror. 

"On  donkeys,"  repeated  Kaunitz,  with  composure.  "The  don- 
key on  whicb  the  dauphiness  rode  was  unworthj'  of  the  honor  con- 
ferred upon  it.     It  threw  its  royal  rider. " 

"And  Antoinette  fell  off?" 

"She  fell,  your  majesty — and  fell  without  exercising  any  par- 
ticular discretion  in  the  matter.  The  Count  d'Artois  came  forward 
to  her  assistance,  but  she  waved  him  off,  saying  with  comic  earnest- 
ness, '  Do  not  touch  me  for  your  life  !  Send  a  coiirier  for  Madame 
Etiquette  and  wait  until  she  has  prescribed  the  important  ceremonies 
with  which  a  dauphiness  is  to  be  remounted  upon  the  back  of  her 
donkey. '  Every  one  laughed  of  course,  and  the  next  day  when  the 
thing  was  repeated,  everybody  in  Paris  was  heartily  amused— except 
Madame  de  Noailles.     She  did  not  laugh. " 

Neither  could  the  empress  vouchsafe  a  smile,  although  the  affair 
was  ludicrous  enough.     She  was  still  walking  to  and  fro,  her  face 


278  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

scarlet  with  mortification.  She  stopped  directly  in  front  of  her 
unsympathizing  minister,  and  said  :  "  You  are  right.  I  must  warn 
Antoinette  that  she  is  going  too  far.  Oh,  my  heart  bleeds  when  I 
tliink  of  my  dear,  inexperienced  child  cast  friendless  upon  the  reefs 
of  that  dangerous  and  corrupt  court  of  France !  My  God !  my 
God!  why  did  I  not  heed  the  warning  I  received?  Why  did  I 
consent  to  let  her  go?" 

"  Because  your  majesty  was  too  wise  to  be  guided  by  lunatics  and 
impostors,  and  because  you  lecognized,  not  only  the  imperative 
necessity  which  placed  Marie  Antoinette  upon  the  throne  of  France, 
but  also  the  value  and  the  blessing  of  a  close  alliance  with  the 
French. " 

"God  grant  it  may  prove  a  blessing!"  sighed  the  empress.  "I 
will  write  to-day,  and  implore  her  to  call  to  aid  all  her  discretion — 
for  Heaven  knows  it  is  needed  at  the  court  of  France !" 

"  It  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  call  vip  discretion  whenever  discretion 
is  needed, "  said  Kaunitz,  thoughtfully.  "  Has  not  your  majesty, 
with  that  goodness  which  does  so  much  honor  to  your  heart,  gone 
so  far  as  to  promise  help  to  the  quarrelsome  Poles?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  emjiress,  warmly,  "and  I  intend  to  keep  my 
promise. " 

"  Promises,  your  majesty,  are  sometimes  made  which  it  is  im- 
possible to  keep." 

"But  I  make  no  such  promises,  and  therefore  honor  requires  that 
I  fulfil  my  imperial  pleilge.  Yes,  we  have  promised  help  and  com- 
fort to  the  patriotic  Confederates,  the  defenders  of  liberty  and  of 
the  true  faith,  and  God  forbid  that  we  should  ever  deceive  those 
who  trust  to  us  for  protection  !" 

Kaunitz  bowed.  "Then  your  majesty  will  have  the  goodness  to 
apprise  the  emperor  that  the  arm}-  must  be  put  upon  a  war  footing  ; 
our  magazines  must  be  replenished,  and  Austria  must  prepare  her- 
self to  suffer  all  the  horrors  of  a  long  war. " 

"A  war?    With  whom?"  exclaimed  the  astounded  empress. 

"With  Russia,  Prussia,  Sweden,  perchance  with  all  Europe. 
Does  your  majesty  suppose  that  the  great  powers  will  suffer  the 
establishment  of  a  republic  here,  under  the  protection  of  Austria? 
— a  republic  upon  the  body  politic  of  a  continent  of  monarchies, 
which,  like  a  scirrhous  sore,  will  spread  disease  that  must  end  in 
death  to  all?" 

"Of  what  republic  do  you  speak?" 


CHAPTER     LXIX. 

THE  TRIUMPH   OF  DIPLOMACY. 

"  I  SPEAK  of  Poland, "  said  Kaunitz,  with  his  accustomed  indiffer- 
ence. "I  speak  of  tliose  insolent  Confederates,  who,  emboldened 
by  the  conde^^cension  of  your  ma jesty  and  the  emperor,  are  ready 
to  dare  every  tiling  for  tlie  i)ro|)ag;iti()n  of  their  ])ernicious  political 
doctrines.  They  have  been  ])lcased  to  declare  Stanislaus  deposed, 
and  the  throne  of  Poland  vacant.  This  declaration  lias  been  com- 
mitted to  writing,  and  with  the  signatures  of  tlie  leading  Confeder- 
ates attached  to  it,  has  been  actually  placed  in  the  king's  hands,  in 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  DIPLOMACY.  279 

his  own  palace  at  Warsaw.  Not  content  with  this,  they  have  dis- 
tributed thousands  of  tliese  documents  throughout  Poland,  so  that 
the  question  to-day,  in  that  miserable  hornets"  nest,  is  not  whether 
the  right  of  the  Confederates  are  to  be  guaranteed  to  them,  but 
whether  the  kingdom  of  Poland  shall  remain  a  monarchy  or  be  con 
verted  into  a  republic. " 

"  If  this  be  true,  then  Poland  is  lost,  and  there  is  no  hope  for  the 
Confederates, "  replied  the  empress.  "  I  promised  them  protection 
against  foreign  aggression,  but  with  their  internal  quarrels  I  will 
not  interfere." 

"It  would  be  a  dangerous  precedent  if  Austria  should  justify 
those  who  lay  sacrilegious  hands  upon  the  crown  of  their  lawfid 
sovereign  ;  and,  for  my  part,  my  principles  forbid  me  to  uphold  a 
band  of  rebels,  who  are  engaged  in  an  insolent  conspiracy  to  de- 
throne their  king. " 

"  You  are  right,  prince  ;  it  will  never  do  for  us  to  uphold  them. 
As  I  have  openly  declared  my  sympathy  with  the  Confederates,  so  I 
must  openly  express  to  them  my  entire  disajiprobation  of  their 
republican  proclivities. " 

"If  your  majesty  does  that,  a  war  with  France  will  be  the  conse- 
quence of  your  frankness.  France  has  promised  succor  to  the  Con 
federates,  and  has  already  sent  Dumouriez  with  troops,  arms,  an^ 
gold.  France  is  longing  to  have  a  voice  in  the  differences  between 
Russia  and  Turkey,  and  she  only  awaits  cooperation  from  Austria  to 
declare  openly  against  Russia.  She  will  declare  against  ourselves, 
if.  after  your  majesty's  promises,  we  suddenly  change  front  and 
take  part  against  the  seditious  Poles." 

"What  can  we  do,  then,  to  avert  war?"  cried  the  empress,  anx- 
ioiisly.  "Ah,  prince,  you  see  that  the  days  of  my  youth  and  my 
valor  are  past !  I  shudder  when  I  look  back  upon  the  blood  that  has 
been  shed  under  my  reign,  and  nothing  but  the  direst  necessity  will 
ever  compel  me  to  be  the  cause  of  spilling  another  drop  of  Austrian 
blood.*    How,  then,  shall  we  shape  our  course  so  as  to  avoid  war?" 

"Our  policy,"  said  Kaimitz,  "is  to  do  nothing.  We  must  look 
on  and  be  watchful,  wliile  we  carefull}'  keeji  our  own  counsel.  We 
propitiate  France  by  allowing  her  to  believe  in  the  continuance  of 
our  sympathy  with  the  Poles,  while  we  pacify  Russia  and  Prussia 
by  remaining  actually  neutral. " 

"  But  while  we  temporize  and  equivocate, "  cried  the  empress, 
with  fervor,  "Russia  will  annihilate  the  Poles,  who,  if  they  have 
gone  too  far  in  their  thirst  for  freedom,  have  valiantly  contended 
for  their  just  rights,  and  are  now  about  to  lose  them  through  the 
evils  of  disunion.  It  gi'ieves  me  to  think  that  we  are  about  to  aban- 
don an  unhappy  nation  to  the  oppression  of  that  woman,  who  stops 
at  nothing  to  compass  her  wicked  designs.  She  who  did  not  shrink 
from  the  murder  of  her  own  husband,  do  you  imagine  that  she  will 
stop  short  of  the  annexation  of  Poland  to  Russia?" 

"  We  will  not  suffer  her  to  annex  Poland, "  said  Kaunitz,  slowly 
nodding  his  head.  "As  long  as  we  are  at  peace  with  Russia,  she 
will  do  nothing  to  provoke  our  enmity  ;  for  France  is  at  our  side, 
and  even  Prussia  would  remonstrate,  if  Catharine  should  be  so  bold 
as  to  appropriate  Poland  to  herself  alone. " 

"  You  are  mistaken.     The  King  of  Prussia,  who  is  so  covetous 

*The  empress's  own  words.    F.  V.  Raumor,  "  Contributions  to  Modem  History,'- 
vol.  iv.,  p.  419. 

19 


280  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

of  that  which  belongs  to  others,  will  gladly  share  the  booty  with 
Russia. " 

"  Austria  could  never  suffer  the  copartnership.  If  such  an  emer- 
gency should  arise,  we  would  have  to  make  up  our  minds  to  declare 
war  against  them  both,  or — " 

"Or?"  asked  the  empress,  holding  her  breath,  as  he  paused. 
"Or,  "said  Kaunitz,  fixing  his  cold  blue  eye  directly  upon  her 
face,  "or  we  would  have  to  share  with  them." 
"Share  what V" 

"The  apple  of  discord.  Anarchy  is  a  three- headed  monster ;  if 
it  is  to  be  destroyed,  every  head  must  fall.  It  is  now  devouring 
Poland  ;  and  I  think  tJiat  the  three  great  powers  are  strong  enough 
to  slay  the  monster  once  for  all. " 

"This  is  all  very  plausible,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  shaking  her 
head,  "but  it  is  not  just.  You  will  never  convince  me  that  good 
can  be  born  of  evil.  What  you  propose  is  neither  more  nor  less 
than  to  smite  the  suppliant  that  lies  helpless  at  your  feet.  I  will 
have  nothing  in  common  with  the  Messalina  who  desecrates  her 
sovereignty  by  the  commission  of  every  unwomanly  crime  ;  and  as 
for  Frederick  of  Prussia,  I  mistrust  him.  He  has  been  my  enemy 
for  too  many  years  for  me  ever  to  believe  that  he  can  be  sincerely 
my  friend. " 

"Fi-ance  was  our  enemy  for  three  hundred  years,  and  yet  we  are 
allied  by  more  than  ordinary  ties. " 

"Our  alliance  will  soon  come  to  naught  if  we  walk  in  the  path 
to  which  you  would  lead  us,  prince.  France  will  not  be  deaf  to  the 
misery  of  Poland.  She  will  hear  the  death-cry,  and  come  to  the 
rescue. " 

"No,  your  majesty,  France  will  wait  to  see  what  we  propose  to 
do  imtil  it  is  too  late,  and  she  will  perceive  that  a  resort  to  arms 
will  in  no  wise  affect  a  fait  accompli.  I,  therefore,  repeat  that  the 
only  way  to  prevent  the  Polish  conflagration  from  spreading  to 
other  nations,  is  for  us  to  preserve  a  strict  neutrality,  taking  part 
with  neitlier  disputant. " 

"War  must  be  averted,"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  warmly. 
"My  first  duty  is  to  Austria,  and  Austria  must  have  peace.  To  pre- 
serve this  blessing  to  my  subjects,  I  will  do  any  thing  tliat  is  con- 
sistent with  my  honor  and  the  dictates  of  my  conscience." 

"Ah,  your  majesty,  diplomacy  has  no  conscience;  it  can  have 
but  one  rule — that  of  expediency. " 

"You  concede,  then,  that  the  policy  you  advocate  is  not  a  con- 
scientious one?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty  ;  but  it  is  one  which  it  is  imperative  for  us 
to  follow.  Necessity  alone  decides  a  national  course  of  action.  A 
good  statesman  cannot  be  a  cosmopolitan.  He  looks  out  for  him- 
self, and  leaves  others  to  do  the  same.  If  Poland  succumbs,  it  will 
be  because  she  has  not  tlie  strength  to  live.  Therefore,  if  lier  liour 
be  come,  let  her  die.  We  dare  not  go  to  her  relief,  for,  before  the 
weal  of  other  nations,  we  must  have  j^eace  and  prosperity  for 
Austria. " 

"But  suppose  that  France  should  insist  that  we  define  our  posi- 
tion?" 

"Then  we  can  do  sf) — in  words.  It  is  so  easy  to  hide  one's 
thouglits,  while  we  assure  our  allies  of  our  "distinguished  considera- 
tion!'" 


GOSSIP.  281 

The  empress  heaved  a  deep  sigh. 

"  I  see, "  said  she,  "  that  clouds  are  gathering  over  the  political 
horizon,  and  that  you  are  resolved  to  shield  your  own  house,  while 
the  tempest  devastates  the  home  of  your  neighbor.  Be  it  so.  I 
viust  have  peace  ;  for  I  have  no  right  to  sacrifice  my  people  before 
the  altars  of  strange  gods.  This  is  my  first  great  obligation,  and 
all  other  claims  must  give  way  to  it. — 

"  They  must  give  tcay, "  continued  the  empress,  slowly  communing 
with  herself,  "but  oh!  it  seems  cruel.  I  scarcely  dare  ask  myself 
what  is  to  be  the  fate  of  Poland?  Heaven  direct  us,  for  all  human 
wisdom  has  come  to  naught !" 

Then,  turning  toward  Kaunitz,  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"Go,  prince,"  said  she,  "and  be  assured  that  wdiat  we  have 
spoken  to  each  other  to-day  shall  remain  sacred  between  us. " 

The  prince  bowed,  and  left  he  room. 

The  empress  was  alone.  She  went  to  and  fro,  while  her  dis- 
turbed countenance  betrayed  the  violent  struggle  that  was  raging  in 
her  noble,  honest  heart. 

"I  know  what  they  want,"  murmured  she.  "Joseph  thirsts  for 
glory  and  conquest,  and  Kautnitz  ujiholds  him.  They  want  their 
share  of  the  booty.  And  they  will  overrule  my  sympathy,  and 
prove  to  me  that  I  am  bound  to  inaction.  Poland  will  be  dismem- 
bered, and  I  shall  bear  my  portion  of  the  crime.  I  shudder  at  the 
deed,  and  yet  I  cannot  raise  my  hand  without  shedding  my  people's 
blood.     I  must  take  counsel  of  Heaven  !" 

She  rang,  and  commanded  the  presence  of  her  confessor. 

"  Perhaps  he  will  throw  some  light  upon  this  darkness,  and  the 
just  God  will  do  the  rest !" 


CHAPTER     LXX. 

GOSSIP. 

The  Countess  Wielopolska  was  alone  in  her  room.  She  walked 
to  and  fro ;  sometimes  stopping  before  a  large  pier-glass  to  survey 
her  own  person,  sometimes  hastening  to  the  window,  at  the  sound 
of  a  carriage  passing  by  ;  then  retiring  disappointed  as  the  vehicle 
went  on. 

"He  comes  late,"  thought  she.  "Perhaps  he  has  forgotten  that 
he  promised  to  come.  Gracious  Heaven  !  what,  if  he  should  be 
proof  against  the  blandishments  of  woman !  I  fear  me  he  is  too 
cold — and  Poland  will  be  lost.  And  yet  his  eye,  when  it  rests  upon 
me,  speaks  the  language  of  love,  and  his  hand  trembles  when  it 
touches  mine.  Ah  !  And  I — when  he  is  by,  I  sometimes  forget  the 
great  cause  for  which  I  live,  and — no,  no,  no  !"  exclaimed  she  aloud, 
"  it  must  not,  shall  not  be  !  My  heart  must  know  but  one  love — the 
love  of  country.  Away  with  such  silly,  girlish  dreaming !  I  am 
ashamed — " 

Here  the  countess  paused,  to  listen  again,  for  this  time  a  carriage 
stopped  before  the  door,  and  the  little  French  clock  struck  the  hour. 

"He  comes, "  whispered  she,  scarcely  breathing,  and  she  turned 
her  bright  smiling  face  toward  the  door.  It  opened,  and  admitted  a 
young  woman  whose  marvellous  beauty  was  enhanced  by  all  the 


382  JOSEPH   II.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

auxiliaries  of  a  superb  toilet  and  a  profusion  of  magnificent  jewels. 

"Countess  Zamoiska,"  exclaimed  the  disappointed  hostess,  com- 
ing forward,  and  striving  to  keep  up  the  smile. 

"  And  why  such  a  cold  reception,  my  dear  Anna, "  asked  the 
visitor,  with  a  warm  embrace.  "Am  I  not  always  the  same 
Luschinka,  to  whom  you  vowed  eternal  friendship  when  we  were 
scliool-girls  together?" 

"  We  vowed  eternal  friendship, "  sighed  the  Countess  Wielopolska, 
"  but  smce  we  were  happy  school-girls,  six  years  have  gone  by,  and 
fearful  tragedies  have  arisen  to  darken  our  lives  and  embitter  our 
young  hearts. " 

"Pshaw!"  said  the  lady,  casting  admiring  glances  at  herself  in 
tlie  mirror.  "I  do  not  know  why  these  years  should  be  so  sad  to 
you.  They  have  certainly  improved  your  beauty,  for  I  declare  to 
you,  Anna,  that  you  were  scarcely  as  pretty  when  you  left  school  as 
you  are  to-day.  Am  I  altered  for  the  worse?  My  heart,  as  you  see, 
has  not  changed,  for  as  soon  as  I  heard  you  were  in  Vienna,  I  flew 
to  embrace  you.  What  a  pity,  your  family  would  mix  theinselves 
up  in  tlio.se  hateful  politics!  You  might "liave  been  the  leader  of 
fashion  in  AVarsaw.  And  your  stupid  husband,  too,  to  think  of  liis 
killing  himself  on  the  very  day  of  a  masked  ball,  and  spoiling  the 
royal  quadrille !" 

"  The  royal  quadrille, "  echoed  the  countess,  in  an  absent  tone  ; 
"yes,  the  king,  General  Repniu,  he  who  put  to  death  so  many  Polish 
nobles,  and  the  brutal  Branicki,  whose  pastime  it  is  to  set  fire  to 
Polish  villages,  they  were  to  have  been  the  other  dancers." 

"Yes,  and  they  completed  their  quadrille,  in  spite  of  Count 
Wielopolska.  Bibeskoi  offered  himself  as  a  substitute,  and  sat  up 
the  whole  night  to  learn  the  figures.  Bibeskoi  is  a  delightful 
partner. " 

"A  Russian,"  exclaimed  the  countess. 

"What  signifies  a  man's  nation  when  he  dances  well?"  laughed 
the  lady.  "D/.s  done,  ma  chere,  are  you  still  mad  on  the  subject  of 
politics?  And  do  you  still  svmpathize  with  the  poor  crazv  Con- 
federates?" 

"You  know,  Luschinka,  that  Count  Pac  was  my  father's  dearest 
friend. " 

"  I  know  it,  poor  man  ;  he  is  at  the  top  and  bottom  of  all  the 
trouble.  I  beseech  you,  chere  Anna,  let  us  put  aside  politics :  I 
cannot  see  what  pleasure  a  woman  can  find  in  such  tiresome  things. 
Mon  Dieu,  there  are  so  many  other  things  more  pleasing  as  well  as 
more  important !  For  instance  :  how  do  people  pass  their  time  in 
Vienna?     Have  you  many  lovers?     Do  you  go  to  many  balls?" 

"  Do  you  think  me  so  base  that  I  could  dance  while  Poland  is  in 
chains?"  said  the  countess,  frowning. 

The  Countess  Zamoiska  laughed  aloud.  "  Voijons—a.Ye  you  going 
to  play  Jeanne  d'Arc  to  bring  female  heroism  into  fashion?  Oh, 
Anna  !  We  have  never  had  more  delightful  balls  in  Warsaw  tlian 
have  been  given  since  so  many  Russian  regiments  have  been  stationed 
there. " 

"  You  have  danced  with  those  wlio  have  murdered  vour  brothers 
and  relatives?— danced  while  the  people  of  Poland  are  trodden  under 
foot !" 

''Ah,  hah!  Ne  parlez  pas  dn.  peuple!"  cried  the  Countess 
Zamoiska,  with  a  gesture  of  disgust.     "A  set  of  beastly  peasants, 


GOSSIP.  283 

no  better  than  their  own  cattle,  or  a  band  of  genteel  robbers,  who 
have  made  it  unsafe  to  live  anywhere  on  Polish  soil,  even  in 
Warsaw." 

"  You  are  right, "  sighed  the  Countess  Wielopolska,  "let  us  drop 
polities  and  speak  of  other  things. " 

"^  la  bonne  iLcure.     Let  us  have  a  little  chronique  scandaleuse. 
All,  ma  chere,  I  am  at  home  there,  for  we  lead  an  enchanting  life  in 
Warsaw.     The  king  is  a  handsome  man,  and,  in  spite  of  the  Em 
press  Catharine,  his  heart  is  still  susceptible  of  the   tender  passion 
You  remember  his  liaison  with  the  Countess  Kauizka,  your  sister 
in-law?" 

"A  base,  dishonored  woman,  who  stooped  to  be  the  mistress  of 
tiie  man  who  has  betrayed  her  country  !" 

"A  king,  nevertheless,  and  a  very  handsome  man ;  and  she  was 
inconsolable  when  he  ceased  to  love  her. " 

"Ah!  she  was  abandoned,  then,  was  she?"  cried  the  Countess 
Wielopolska. 

"Oh  no,  dear  Anna !  Your  sister-in-law  was  not  guilty  of  the 
hetise  of  playing  Queen  Dido.  As  she  felt  quite  sure  that  the  king 
would  leave  her  soon  or  late,  she  anticipated  the  day,  and  left  him. 
Vv'as  it  not  excellent?     She  went  off  with  Prince  Repnin." 

"Prince  Repnin!"  exclaimed  the  countess  with  horror.  "The 
Russian  ambassador !" 

"The  same.  You  should  have  seen  the  desjiair  of  the  king.  But 
he  was  amiable  even  in  his  grief.  He  tried  all  sorts  of  lover's 
stratagems  to  win  back  the  countess  ;  he  prowled  around  her  house 
at  night  singing  like  a  Troubadour  ;  he  wrote  her  bushels  of  letters 
to  implore  an  interview.  All  in  vain.  The  liaison  with  Repnin 
was  made  public,  and  that,  of  course,  ended  the  affair.  The  king 
was  inconsolable."  He  gave  ball  after  ball,  never  missed  an  even- 
ing at  tlie  theatre,  gambled  all  night,  gave  sleighing  parties,  and  so 
on,  but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  his  heart  was  broken  ;  and  had  not 
Tissona,  the  pretty  cantatrice,  succeeded  in  comforting  him,  I  really 
do  believe  that  our  handsome  king  would  have  killed  himself  for 
despair. " 

"Ah,  he  is  consoled,  is  he?"  said  the  countess  with  cui'ling  lips. 
"  He  jests  and  dances,  serenades  and  gambles,  while  the  gory  knout 
reeks  with  the  noblest  blood  in  Poland,  and  her  noblest  sons  are 
staggering  along  the  frozen  wastes  of  Siberia !  Oh,  Stanislaus ! 
Stanislaus!  A  day  of  reckoning  will  come  for  him  who  wears  the 
splendor  of  royalty,  yet  casts  away  its  obligations  !" 

"  Vraiment,  dear  Anna,  to  hear  your  rhapsodies,  one  would 
almost  believe  you  to  be  one  of  the  Confederates  who  lately  attempted 
the  life  of  the  king."  cried  the  Countess  Zamoiska,  laughing. 

"  Who  attempted  tlie  king's  life?"  said  the  countess,  turning  pale. 

"Why  three  robbers  :   Lukawski,  Strawinski,  and  Kosinski." 

"  I  never  heard  of  it, "  replied  the  coimtess,  much  agitated.  "  Tell 
me  what  you  know  of  it,  if  you  can,  Luschinka. " 

"It  is  an  abominable  thing,  and  long  too,"  said  Luschinka,  with 
a  shrug.  "  The  conspirators  were  disguised  as  peasants,  and  actually 
had  the  assurance  to  come  to  Warsaw.  There  were  thirty  of  them, 
but  the  thi-ee  I  tell  you  of  were  the  leaders.  The  king  was  on  his 
way  to  his  uncle's  palace,  which  is  in  the  suburbs  of  Warsaw.  They 
had  the  insolence  to  fall  upon  him  in  the  streets,  and  his  attendants 
*Wraxall,  "Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  Vienna,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  96. 


284  JOSEPH  II.  AISD  HIS  COURT. 

got  frightened  and  ran  off.  Then  the  conspirators  tore  the  king 
from  his  coach  and  carried  him  off,  swearing  that  if  he  uttered  one 
cry  tliey  would  murder  liim.  Wasn't  it  awful?  Do  you  think  that 
tlie  dear  king  didn't  have  the  corurage  to  keep  as  quiet  as  a  mouse 
while  they  took  him  off  with  them  to  the  forest  of  BielaniV  Here 
they  robbed  him  of  alJ  he  had,  leaving  him  nothing  but  the  ribbon 
that  belonged  to  tlie  order  of  the  White  Eagle.  Tiien  they  dispersed 
to  give  the  news  of  his  capture  to  their  accomplices,  and  Kosinski 
was  left  to  dispatch  him.     Did  you  ever  !" 

"Further,  further!''  said  the  countess,  scarcely  able  to  speak,  as 
iier  old  school-mate  paused  in  her  narrative. 

Luschinka  laughed.  "'Doesn't  it  sound  just  like  a  fairytale, 
Anna?  But  it  is  as  true  as  I  live,  and  happened  on  the  third  of 
November  of  this  blessed  year  1771.  So  Kosinski  and  six  others 
dragged  and  dragged  the  king  imtil  he  lost  his  shoes,  and  was  all 
torn  and  scratched,  and  even  wounded.  Whenever  the  others 
wanted  to  sto^J  and  kill  the  king,  Kosinski  objected  that  the  place 
was  not  lonely  enough.  All  at  once  they  came  upon  the  Russian 
patrol.  Then  the  five  other  murderers  ran  off,  leaving  the  king  and 
Kosinski  alone. '" 

"And  Kosinski?"  asked  the  countess,  with  anxiety. 

"Kosinski  went  on  with  his  sword  drawn  over  the  king's  head, 
although  he  begged  him  for  rest.  But  the  king  saw  that  Kosinski 
looked  undecided  and  uneasy,  so  as  they  came  near  to  the  Convent  of 
Bielani,  he  said  to  Kosinski,  'I  see  that  you  don't  know  which  way 
to  act,  so  you  had  better  let  me  go  into  the  convent  to  hide,  while 
you  make  your  escape  by  some  other  way. '  But  Kosinski  said  no, 
he  had  sworn  to  kill  him.  So  they  went  on  farther,  until  they 
came  to  Mariemont,  a  castle  belonging  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony. 
Here  the  king  begged  for  rest,  and  they  sat  down  and  began  to  talk. 
Then  Kosinkski  told  the  king  he  was  not  killing  him  of  his  own 
will,  but  because  he  had  been  ordered  to  do  so  by  others,  to  punish 
the  king  for  all  his  sins,  poor  fellow  !  against  Poland.  The  king 
then  said  it  was  not  his  fault,  but  all  the  fault  of  Russia,  and  at  last 
he  softened  the  murderer's  heart.  Kosinski  threw  himself  at  the 
king's  feet  and  begged  pardon,  and  promised  to  save  him.  So 
Stanislaus  promised  to  forgive  him,  and  it  was  all  arranged  between 
them.  They  went  on  to  a  mill  near  Mariemont,  and  begged  the 
miller  to  let  in  two  travellers  who  had  lost  their  way.  At  first  the 
miller  took  them  to  be  robbers,  but  after  a  great  deal  of  begging,  he 
let  them  in.  Then  the  king  tore  a  leaf  out  of  his  pocket-book,  and 
wrote  a  note  to  General  Cocceji.  The  miller's  daughter  took  it  to 
Warsaw,  not  without  much  begging  on  the  king's  part;  and  you 
can  conceive  the  joy  of  the  people  when  they  heard  that  the  king 
was  safe,  for  everybody  seeing  his  cloak  in  the  streets,  and  his  hat 
and  plume  on  the  road,  naturally  supposed  that  he  had  been  mur- 
dered. N'.'ell,  General  Cocceji,  followed  by  the  whole  court,  hur- 
ried to  the  mill ;  and  when  they  arrived,  there  was  Kosinski 
stand i7ig  before  the  door  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand.  He  let 
in  the  general,  and  there  on  the  floor,  in  the  miller's  shirt,  lay  the 
king  fast  asleep.  So  Cocceji  went  down  on  his  knees  and  kissed  his 
hand,  and  called  him  his  lord  and  king,  and  the  people  of  the  mill, 
who  had  never  dn^amiHl  who  it  was,  all  droppetl  on  tlieir  knees  and 
begged  for  mercy.  So  the  king  then  foi'gave  everybody,  and  went 
back  to  Warsaw  with  Cocceji.     This,  my  dear,  is  a  true  history  of 


GOSSIP.  285 

the  attempt  that  was  made  by  the  Confederates  on  the  life  of  the 
handsomest  man  in  Poland  !"  * 

"A  strange  and  sad  history, "  said  the  Countess  Anna.  "How- 
ever guilty  the  king  may  be,  it  would  be  disgraceful  if  he  were 
murdered  by  his  own  subjects. " 

"  Oh,  my  love,  these  Confederates  refuse  to  acknowledge  him  for 
their  king  !  Did  you  not  know  that  they  had  been  so  ridiculous  as 
to  depose  himf 

"  What  have  the  Confederates  to  do  with  a  band  of  robbers  whc 
plundered  the  king  and  would  have  murdered  him?"  asked  Anna 
indignantly.  "Are  they  to  be  made  answerable  for  the  crimes  of 
a  horde  of  banditti?" 

"ilia  chere,  the  banditti  were  the  tools  of  the  Confederates.  They 
have  been  taken,  and  every  thing  has  been  discovered.  Pulawski, 
their  great  hero,  hired  the  assassins  and  bovmd  them  by  an  oath. 
Letters  found  upon  Lukawski,  who  boasts  of  his  share  in  the  viJlany, 
shows  that  Pulav/ski  was  the  head  conspirator,  and  that  the  plot  had 
been  approved  by  Zaremba  and  Pac  !" 

"Then  all  is  lost !"  murmured  Anna.  "If  the  Confederates  have 
sullied  the  honor  of  Poland  by  consenting  to  crime  as  a  means  to 
work  out  her  independence,  Poland  will  never  regain  her  freedom. 
Oh,  that  I  should  have  lived  to  see  this  day  !" 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  sobbed  aloud. 

"  Vraivient,  Anna, "  said  the  Countess  Zamoiska  pettishly,  "  I 
cannot  understand  you.  Instead  of  rejoicing  over  the  king's  escape, 
here  you  begin  to  cry  over  the  sins  of  his  murderers.  All  Poland 
is  exasperated  against  them,  and  nothing  can  save  them,  f  So,  dear 
Anna,  dry  your  eyes,  or  they  will  be  as  red  as  a  cardinal's  hat. 
Goodness  me,  if  I  hadn't  wonderful  strength  of  mind,  I  might  have 
cried  myself  into  a  fright  long  ago ;  for  you  have  no  idea  of  the 
sufferings  I  have  lived  through.  You  talk  of  Poland,  and  never  ask 
a  word  about  myself.  It  shows  how  little  interest  jou  feel  in  me, 
that  you  still  call  me  by  the  name  of  my  first  husband. " 

"Are  you  married  a  second  time?"  asked  Anna,  raising  her  head. 

"Ah,  ma  chere,  my  name  has  not  been  Zamoiska  for  four  years. 
Dear  me  !  The  king  knows  what  misery  it  is  to  be  tied  to  a  person 
that  loves  v^ou  no  longer;  and  luckily  for  us,  he  has  the  power  of 
divorce.  He  does  it  for  the  asking,  and  every  divorce  is  a  signal 
for  a  succession  of  brilliant  balls ;  for  you  understand  that  people 
don't  part  to  go  off  and  pout.  They  re-marry  at  once,  and,  of  course, 
everybody  gives  balls,  routs,  and  dinners,  in  honor  of  the  weddings. " 

"Have  you  married  again  in  this  way?"  asked  the  countess, 
gravely. 

"Oh  yes,  "replied  the  unconscious  Luschinka ;  "I  have  been 
twice  married  and  twice  divorced  ;  but  it  was  not  my  fault.  I  loved 
my  first  husband  with  a  depth  of  passion  which  he  could  not  appre- 
ciate, and  I  was  in  an  agony  of  despair  when  six  months  after  our 
man-iage  he  told  me  that  he  loved  me  no  longer,  and  was  dying  for 
the  Countess  Luwiendo.  She  was  my  bosom  friend,  so  you  can 
imagine  my  grief  ;  mois  j'ai  sn  faire  bonne  mine  a  mauvais  jeux.  I 
invited  the  countess  to  mj^  villa,  and  there,  under  the  shade  of  the 
old  trees  in  the  park,  we  walked  arm  in  arm,  and  arranged  with  my 

*Wraxall.  "Memoirs,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  76. 

t  Lukawski  and  Strawinski  were  executed.     They  died  cursing  Kosinski  as  a 
traitor.    Wraxall,  vol.  ii.,  p.  83. 


286  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

husband  all  the  conditions  of  the  separation.  Every  one  praised 
nay  generous  conduct ;  the  znen  in  particular  were  in  raptures,  and 
Prince  Lubomirski.  on  the  strength  of  it,  fell  so  desperately  in  love 
with  me,  that  he  divorced  his  wife  and  otfered  me  his  hand." 

"You  did  not  accept  it !"  exclaimed  Countess  Anna. 

"What  a  question  !"  said  the  ex-countess,  pouting.  "The  prince 
was  young,  rich,  charming,  and  a  gi-eat  favorite  with  the  king. 
We  loved  each  other,  and,  of  course,  were  married.  But,  indeed, 
my  dear,  love  does  seem  to  have  such  butterfly  wings  that  you 
scarcely  catch  it  befoi'e  it  is  gone  !  My  second  husband  broke  my 
heart  exactly  as  my  first  had  done  ;  he  asked  me  to  leave  him,  and 
of  course  I  had  to  go.  Men  are  abominable  beings,  Anna  :  scarcely 
were  we  divorced  before  he  married  a  third  wife. "  * 

"Poland  is  lost — lost!"  murmvu-ed  the  Countess  Anna.  "She  is 
falling  under  the  weight  of  her  children's  crimes.  Lost !  O  Poland, 
my  unhappy  country  !" 

'' All  contraire,  ma  cliere,  Warsaw  was  never  gayer  than  it  is  at 
present.  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  every  divorce  was  followed  by  a 
marriage,  and  that  the  king  was  delighted  with  the  masquerades 
and  balls,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing?  Why,  nothing  is  heard  in 
Warsaw  at  night  but  laugliter,  music,  and  the  chink  of  glasses. " 

"And  nevertheless  you  could  tear  yourself  away?"  said  the 
countess  ironically. 

"I  had  to  go,"  sighed  tlie  princess.  "I  am  on  my  way  to  Ital}-. 
You  see,  ma  chere,  it  \you\(\.\\a.\eheen  hiconvenant  and  might  have 
made  me  ridiculous  to  go  out  in  society,  meeting  my  husbands  with 
their  two  wives,  and  I — abandoned  by  both  these  faithless  men.  I 
should  have  been  obliged  to  marry  a  third  time,  but  my  heart 
revolted  against  it." 

"Then  you  travel  alone  to  Italy?" 

"  By  no  means,  mon  amour,  I  am  travelling  with  the  most  be- 
witching creature  ! — my  lover.  Oh,  Anna,  he  is  the  handsomest 
man  I  ever  laid  my  eyes  upon  ;  the  most  delightful !  and  he  paints 
so  divinely  that  the  Empress  Catharine  has  appointed  him  her  court 
painter.  I  love  him  beyond  all  expression  ;  I  adore  him  !  You  need 
not  smile,  Anna,  que  voulez-vous  ?  Le  coeur  toujours  vierge  pour  tin 
second  amour." 

"If  you  love  him  so  dearly,  why,  then,  does  your  heart  revolt 
against  a  marriage  with  him?"  asked  the  Countess  Anna. 

"  I  told  you  he  was  a  painter,  and  not  a  nobleman, "  answered  the 
ex-princess,  impatiently.  "One  loves  an  artist,  but  cannot  marry 
him.  Do  you  suppose  I  would  be  so  ridiculous  as  to  give  up  my 
title  to  be  the  respectable  wife  of  a  painter?  The  Princess  Lubo- 
mirski a  Madame  Wand,  simple  Wand!  Oh,  no!  I  shall  travel 
witli  liim,  but  I  will  not  marry  him." 

"Tlien  go!"  exclaimed  the  Countess  Anna,  rising,  and  casting 
looks  of  scorn  upon  the  princess.  "  Degenerate  daughter  of  a  de- 
generate fatherland,  go,  and  drag  your  shame  with  you  to  Italy ! 
Go,  and  enjoy  your  sinful  lusts,  while  Poland  breathes  her  last,  and 
vultures  prey  upon  her  dishonored  corpse.  But  take  with  you  the 
contempt  of  every  Polish  heart,  that  beats  with  love  for  the  land 
that  gave  you  birth  1" 

She  turned,  and  without  a  word  of  farewell,  proudly  left  the 
room.     The  princess  raised  lier  brow  and  opened  her  jiretty  mouth 

*Wra.\all,  ii.,  p.  110. 


AN  EXPLANATION.  387 

in  bewilderment ;  then  rising,  and  going  up  to  the  mirror,  she 
smoothed  her  hair  and  began  to  laugh. 

" What  a  pathetic  fool!"  said  she.  "Anybody  might  know  that 
her  mother  had  been  an  actress.  To  think  of  the  daughter  of  an 
artiste  getting  up  a  scene  because  a  princess  will  not  stoop  to  marry 
a  painter !     Quelle  betise  !  " 

With  these  words  she  went  back  to  her  carriage  and  drove  off. 


CHAPTER  LXXI. 

AN  EXPLANATION. 

The  Countess  Anna,  meanwhile,  had  retired  to  her  room.  Ex- 
hausted by  her  own  emotions,  she  sank  into  a  chair,  and  clasping 
her  hands  convulsively,  she  stared,  with  distended  eyes,  upon  the 
blank  wall  opposite. 

She  was  perfectly  vinconscious  that,  after  a  time,  the  door  had 
opened  and  Matuschka  stood  before  her.  It  was  not  until  the  old 
woman  had  taken  her  hand  and  raised  it  to  her  lips,  that  she  started 
from  her  mournful  reverie. 

"What  now,  Matuschka?"  said  she,  awakening  from  her  dream. 

"  My  lady,  I  come  to  know  what  we  are  to  do.  The  pearl  neck- 
lace and  wreath  are  sold,  and  they  have  maintained  the  Countess 
Wielopolska  as  beseems  her  rank  ;  but  we  live  upon  our  capital,  and 
it  lessens  every  day.  Oh,  my  lady,  why  will  you  conceal  your 
poverty,  when  the  emperor — " 

"Peace!"  interrupted  the  countess.  "When  we  speak  of  our 
poverty  don't  name  the  emperor.  If  there  is  no  more  money  in  our 
pui'se,  take  the  diadem  of  brilliants,  sell  the  diamonds  and  replace 
them  with  false  stones.  They  will  bring  a  thousand  ducats,  and 
that  sum  will  last  us  for  a  whole  year. " 

"  And  then  ?"  sobbed  Matuschka. 

"And  then, "echoed  the  countess,  thoughtfully,  "then  we  will 
either  be  happy  or  ready  for  death.  Go,  Matuschka,  let  no  one 
know  that  I  am  selling  my  diamonds ;  but  replace  them  by  to- 
morrow morning  ;  for  I  must  wear  them  at  the  emperor's  reception. " 

"Your  whole  set,  pearls  and  diamonds,  are  now  false,"  said  the 
persevering  servant.  "What  will  the  emperor  say  when  he  hears 
of  it?" 

"He  must  never  know  of  it.     Now  go,  and  return  quickly." 

Matuschka,  looking  almost  angrily  at  her  lady,  left  the  room. 
In  the  anteroom  stood  a  man  wrapped  in  a  cloak.  She  went  quickly 
up  to  him  with  the  open  etui. 

"  The  diamond  coronet, "  whispered  she.  "  I  am  to  sell  the  jewels 
and  have  their  places  filled  with  false  ones.  It  is  to  be  done  before 
to-morrow. " 

"How  much  does  she  expect  for  it?"  asked  the  visitor  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  A  thousand  ducats,  sire. " 

"  I  will  send  the  sum  to-night.     Hide  the  coronet  until  to-morrow 
and  then  return  it  to  her.     Where  is  she?" 

"  In  her  cabinet,  your  majesty. " 

"  Let  no  one  enter  until  I  return. " 


288  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

He  then  threw  down  his  cloak,  and  without  knocking  opened 
the  door.  The  countess  was  still  lost  in  thought.  She  still  gazed  at 
the  blank  wall,  still  heard  the  flippant  voice  which  had  poured  out 
Its  profanity  as  though  life  had  been  a  jest  and  immorality  a  dream 

The  emperor  stopped  to  contemplate  her  for  a  moment,  and  his 
large,  loving  eyes  rested  fondly  on  her  noble  form. 

"  Countess  Anna, "  said  he,  softly. 

"  The  emperor  !"  exclaimed  she,  rising  and  coming  joyfully  for- 
ward, while  a  deep  blush  overspread  her  face. 

"What!  Will  you  not  respect  my  incognito?  Will  you  not 
receive  me  as  Count  Falkenstein?" 

"  Is  not  the  name  of  the  emperor  the  first  that  is  pronounced  by 
the  priest  when  he  prays  before  the  altar  for  his  fellow-creatures'^" 
replied  she,  with  an  enchanting  smile.  "Think  of  my  heart  as  a 
priest,  and  let  that  name  be  ever  the  first  I  speak  in  mv  pravers  to 
Heaven."  j  i-     j 

"By  heaven,  if  priests  resembled  you,  I  should  not  hate  them  as 
I  do.     Come,  my  lovely  priestess,  then  call  me  emperor  if  you  will 
but  receive  me  as  Count  Falkenstein. " 

"  Welcome,  count, "  replied  she,  cheerfully. 

"God  be  praised,  then,  my  royalty  has  disappeared  for  a  while," 
said  Joseph. 

"  And  yet,  my  lord  and  emperor,  it  is  the  privilege  of  royalty  to 
heal  all  wounds,  to  wijie  away  all  tears,  and  to  comfort  all  sorrow. 
What  a  magnificent  prerogative  it  is  to  hold  in  one's  own  hand  the 
happiness  of  thousands?" 

"What  is  happiness,  sweet  moralist?"  cried  Joseph.  "Mankind 
are  forever  in  search  of  it,  yet  no  man  has  ever  found  it." 

"What  is  happiness !"  exclaimed  she,  with  enthusiasm.  "It  is 
to  have  the  power  of  ruling  destiny— it  is  to  stand  upon  the  Hima- 
laya of  your  might;  when,  stretching  forth  your  imperial  hand, 
you  can  say  to  the  oppressed  among  nations,  '  Come  unto  me,  ye 
Avho  strive  against  tyranny,  and  I  will  give  you  freedom  !'" 

"In  other  words,"  replied  the  emj^eror,  with  an  arch  smile,  "it 
is  to  march  to  Poland  and  give  battle  to  the  Empress  of  Russia. " 

"It  is,  it  is  !"  cried  she,  with  the  fervor  of  a  Miriam.  "It  is  to 
be  the  Messiah  of  crucified  Freedom,  to  redeem  your  fellows  from 
bondage,  and  to  earn  the  blessings  of  a  people  to  whom  your  name, 
for  all  time,  will  stand  as  the  type  of  all  that  is  great  in  a  sovereign 
and  good  in  a  man  !  Oh,  Emperor  of  Austria,  be  the  generous 
redeemer  of  my  country  !" 

And  scarcely  knowing  what  she  said,  she  took  his  hand  and 
pressed  it  to  her  heart. 

Joseph  withdrew  it  gently,  saying,  "Peace,  lovely  enthusiast, 
peace  !  Give  politics  to  the  winds  !  She  is  an  abominable  old  hag, 
and  the  very  rustling  of  her  sibylline  leaves  as  she  turns  them  over 
in  tlie  cabinet  of  the  empress  makes  me  shudder  with  disgust.  Let 
us  drive  her  hence,  then.  I  came  hither  to  taste  a  few  drops  of  hap- 
l^iness  at  your  side,  sweet  Anna. " 

The  countess  sighed  wearily  as  the  emperor  drew  her  to  his  side  ; 
and  her  pale,  inspired  face  was  turned  upon  him  with  a  look  of 
unutterable  anguish. 

The  emperor  saw  it,  and  leaned  his-  head  back  upon  the  cushion 
of  the  sofa.     After  a  pause  he  said  :  "  How  sweet  it  is  to  be  here  !" 
"  And  yet  you  came  late, "  whispered  she,  reproachfully. 


AN  EXPLANATION.  289 

"  Because  I  travelled  by  a  circuitous  route  ;  got  into  one  hackney- 
coach  and  out  of  another  ;  drove  hither,  thither,  and  everywhere,  to 
baffle  my  mother's  spies.  Do  you  suppose  that  any  one  of  her  big- 
oted followers  would  believe  in  a  chaste  friendship  like  ours?  Do 
you  suppose  they  would  understand  the  blameless  longings  I  have  to 
see  your  lovely  face,  and  to  listen  to  the  melody  of  your  matchless 
voice?  Tell  me,  Countess  Anna,  how  have  I  deserved  the  rich  boon 
of  your  friendship?" 

"  Nay,  Count  Falkenstein, "  replied  she,  with  a  bewitching  smile, 
"tell  me  how  I  have  earned  yours?  Moreover,  who  tells  you  that  I 
am  disinterested  in  my  sentiments?  The  day  may  come  when  you 
will  understand  how  entirely  I  rely  upon  you  for  assistance. " 

"  But  you  have  not  given  your  friendship  exclusively  for  the  sake 
of  the  day  that  may  come?  Have  you?"  said  the  emperor,  with  a 
piercing  glance  at  her  beautiful  pale  face. 

The  countess  cast  down  her  eyes  and  blushed.  "  Do  you  mistrust 
me?"  asked  she,  in  a  low,  trembling  voice. 

"  Give  me  a  proof  of  your  confidence  in  me, "  said  Joseph,  rising 
and  taking  both  her  hands  in  his.  "You  call  me  friend— give  me, 
then,  the  right  of  a  friend.  Let  me  in  some  degree  replace  to  you 
the  fortune  of  which  the  Russian  empress  has  robbed  you. " 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sire, "  said  the  countess,  proudly  ;  "  the  Rus- 
sian did  not  rob  me  of  every  thing.  She  took  my  lands,  but  I  have 
Invested  funds  in  foreign  securities  which  yield  me  an  ample  in- 
come. I  have  also  my  family  jewels,  and  as  long  as  you  see  me 
wearing  them  you  may  feel  sure  that  I  have  other  means  of  support. " 

The  emperor  shook  his  head.  "  You  are  not  wearing  your  family 
jewels,  Anna, "  said  he. 

"How,  sire!"  exclaimed  she,  blushing. 

He  leaned  over,  and  in  a  low  voice  said,  "Your  jewels  are  false, 
your  pearls  are  imitation,  and  there  is  not  a  single  diamond  in  that 
coronet  you  intend  to  wear  at  my  mother's  reception  to-morrow." 

The  cheeks  of  the  countess  grew  scarlet  with  confusion,  and  her 
head  dropped  with  shame.  The  emperor  laid  his  hand  upon  her 
arm.  "Now,  Anna,"  said  he,  tenderly,  "now  that  I  know  all,  grant 
me  the  happiness  of  relieving  you  from  your  temporary  embarrass- 
ments. Gracious  Heaven !  You  who  are  not  ashamed  to  confide 
your  distress  to  pawnbrokers  and  jewellers,  you  refuse  to  trust  me ! " 

"  I  would  rather  be  under  obligations  to  a  stranger  than  to  a 
friend,"  returned  the  countess,  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible. 

"  But,  Anna, "  cried  the  emperor,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  feeling, 
"  you  would  rather  be  obliged  to  the  man  whom  you  loved  than  to  a 
stranger.  Oh,  if  you  but  loved  me,  there  would  be  no  question  of 
"mine  or  thine'  between  us  !  It  is  said— I  have  betrayed  myself, 
and  I  need  stifle  my  passion  no  longer  ;  for  I  love  j^ou,  beautiful 
Anna,  I  love  you  from  my  soul,  and,  at  your  feet,  I  implore  you  to 
give  me  that  which  is  above  all  wealth  or  titles.  Give  me  your 
love,  be  mine.     Answer  me,  answer  me.     Do  3' ou  love  me?" 

"  I  do, "  whispered  she,  without  raising  her  head. 

The  emperor  threw  his  arm  around  her  waist.  "  Then, "  said  he, 
"  from  this  hour  you  give  me  the  right  to  provide  for  you.  Do  you 
not?" 

"No,  sire,  I  can  provide  for  myself." 

"Then,"  cried  Joseph,  angrily,  "you  do  not  love  me?" 

"Yes,  sire,  I  love  you.     You  predicted  that  my  heart  would  find 


290  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

its  master.  It  has  bowed  before  you  and  owns  your  sway.  In  the 
name  of  that  love  I  crave  help  for  Poland.  She  cries  to  Heaven  for 
vengeance,  and  Heaven  has  not  heard  the  cry.  She  is  threatened  by 
Russia  and  Prussia,  and  if  noble  Austria  abandon  her,  she  is  lost  I 
Oh,  generous  Austria,  rescue  my  native  land  from  her  foes  !" 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  sarcastically,  "you  call  me 
Austria,  and  your  love  is  bestowed  upon  my  station  and  my  armies  ! 
It  is  not  I  whom  you  love,  but  that  Emperor  of  Austria  in  whose 
hand  lies  the  power  that  may  rescue  Poland." 

"  I  love  you ;  but  my  love  is  grafted  ui^on  the  hope  I  so  long  have 
cherished  that  in  you  I  recognize  the  savior  of  my  country." 

"  Indeed  !"  cried  the  emperor,  with  a  sneer. 

The  countess  did  not  hear  him.  She  continued  :  "Until  I  loved 
you,  eveiy  throb  of  my  heart  belonged  to  Poland.  She,  alone,  was 
the  object  of  my  love  and  of  my  prayers.  But  since  tlien,  sire,  the 
holy  fire  that  burned  upon  the  altar  is  quenched.  I  am  faithless  to 
my  vestal  vow,  and  I  feel  within  my  soul  the  tempest  of  an  earthly 
passion.  I  have  broken  the  oath  that  I  made  to  my  dyiug  mother, 
for  there  is  one  more  dear  to  me  than  Poland  now,  and  for  him  are 
the  praj'ers,  the  hopes,  the  longings,  and  the  dreams  that  all  belonged 
to  Poland  !  Oh,  my  lord  and  my  lover,  reconcile  me  to  my  con- 
science !  Let  me  believe  that  my  loves  are  one ;  and  on  the  day 
when  your  victorious  eagles  shall  have  driven  away  the  vultures  that 
prey  upon  my  fatherland,  I  will  throw  myself  at  your  feet,  and  live 
for  your  love  alone. " 

"Ah,  indeed,"  said  the  emi^eror,  with  a  sardonic  laugh,  "yovi 
will  go  to  such  extremity  in  your  patriotism  !  You  will  sell  your- 
self, that  Poland  may  be  redeemed  through  your  dishonor.  I  con- 
gratulate you  upon  your  dexterous  statesmanship.  You  sought  me, 
I  perceive,  that  by  the  magic  of  your  intoxicating  beauty,  you 
might  lure  me  to  sacrifice  the  lives  of  my  people  in  behalf  of  yours. 
Your  love  is  a  stratagem  of  diplomacy,  nothing  more. " 

"Oh,  sire,"  cried  she,  in  tones  of  anguish,  "you  despise  me, 
then?" 

"Not  at  all ;  I  admire  your  policy,  but  unhappily  it  is  only  par- 
tially successful.  You  had  calculated  that  I  would  not  be  proof 
against  your  beauty,  your  talents,  your  fascinations.  You  are 
right ;  I  am  taken  in  the  snare,  for  I  love  you  madly. " 

"And  do  I  not  return  your  love  from  my  heart?"  asked  she. 

"Stay,"  cried  Joseph,  "hear  me  out.  One-half  your  policy,  I 
say,  was  successful  ;  the  other  has  been  at  fault.  As  your  lover  I 
will  do  any  thing  that  man  can  do  to  make  you  happy  ;  but  my  head 
belongs  to  my  fatherland,  and  you  cannot  rule  it,  through  my  heart." 

"Sire,  I  seek  nothing  that  is  inconsistent  with  Austria's  welfare. 
I  ask  help  for  Poland." 

"  Which  help  might  involve  Austria  in  a  ruinous  war  with  two 
powerful  nations,  and  leave  her  so  exhausted  that  she  would  have 
to  stand  by  and  witness  the  partition  of  Poland  without  daring  to 
claim  a  share  for  herself. " 

"  The  partition  of  Poland  !"  exclaimed  the  countess,  with  a  cry  of 
horror.  "Avenging  God,  wilt  Thou  suffer  such  culmination  of  hu- 
man wickedness  !  And  you,  sire,  coidd  you  sliare  in  such  a  crime? 
But,  no  !  no !  no ! — see  how  misfortune  has  maddened  me,  when  I 
doui)t  the  honor  of  the  nobl(>  Emperor  of  Austria  !  Never  would  the 
lofty  and  generous  Joseph  stoop  to  such  infamy  as  this !" 


AN  EXPLANATION.  391 

"If  Poland  must  succumb,  I  will  act  as  becomes  my  station  and 
responsibilities  as  the  sovereign  of  a  great  emyjire,  and  I  will  do 
that  which  the  wisdom  and  prvidence  of  my  mother  shall  dictate  to 
her  son.  But  Anna,  dear  Anna, "  continued  he,  passionately,  "why 
should  the  sweet  confession  of  our  love  be  lost  in  the  turbid  roar  of 
these  political  waters?  Tell  me  that  you  love  me  as  a  woman  ought 
to  love,  having  no  God,  no  faith,  no  country,  but  her  lover ;  losing 
her  identity  and  living  for  his  happiness  alone  !" 

"I  love  you,  I  love  you,"  murmured  she,  with  indescribable  ten- 
derness ;  and  clasping  her  hands,  she  fell  ujjon  her  knees  and  raised 
her  eyes  to  him  with  a  look  that  made  him  long  to  fold  her  to  his 
heart,  and  yield  up  his  empire,  had  she  requested  it,  at  his  hands. 
"Help  for  Poland!"  prayed  she  again,  "help  for  Poland,  and  I  am 
yours  forever !" 

Joseph  grew  angry  with  himself  and  with  her.  "Love  does  not 
chaffer, "  said  he,  rudelj'.  "  When  a  woman  loves,  she  must  recog- 
nize her  master  and  bow  before  his  will — otherwise  there  is  no  love. 
For  the  last  time  I  ask,  do  you  love  me?" 

"  More  than  life  or  honor. " 

"Then  be  a  woman,  and  yield  yourself  to  me.  Away  with  na- 
tionality— it  is  an  abstraction.  What  are  Poland  and  the  world  to 
you?  Here,  upon  my  heart,  are  your  country  and  your  altars. 
Come,  without  condition  and  without  reserve.  I  cannot  promise  to 
free  Poland,  but,  by  the  bright  heaven  above  us,  I  swear  to  make  you 
happy  !" 

She  shook  her  head  mournfully,  and  rose  from  her  knees. 

"Make  me  happy?"  echoed  she.  " For  me  there  can  be  no  happi- 
ness while  Poland  sorrows." 

"  Say  that  again, "  thundered  the  emperor,  "  and  we  part  forever  !" 

"I  say  it  again!"  said  she,  with  proud  tranquillity,  but  pale  as 
death. 

"  And  yet,  if  I  am  not  ready  to  sacrifice  my  own  people  for  yours, 
you  will  uot  believe  in  my  love  !  You  are  unwilling  to  give  up  an 
idle  dream  of  Polish  freedom  ;  and  you  ask  of  me,  a  man  and  an 
emperor,  that  I  shall  bring  to  you  the  offering  of  my  own  honor  and 
of  my  people's  happiness  !" 

She  said  nothing. 

"It  is  enough!"  cried  Joseph,  his  eyes  flashing  with  anger. 
"  Pride  against  pride  !  We  part.  For  the  first  thing  I  require  of  a 
woman  who  loves  me,  is  submission.  It  grieves  me  bitterly  to  find 
you  so  unwomanly.  I  would  have  prized  your  love  above  every 
earthly  blessing,  had  5^ou  given  it  freely.  Conditionally  I  will  not 
accept  it ;  above  all,  when  its  conditions  relate  to  the  government  of 
my  empire.  No  woman  shall  ever  have  a  voice  in  my  affairs  of 
state.  If,  for  that  reason,  she  reject  me,  I  must  submit ;  although, 
as  at  this  moment,  my  heart  bleeds  at  her  rejection. " 

"And  mine?  iliy /learf  .^ "  exclaimed  the  countess,  raising  her 
tearful  eyes  to  his. 

"Pride  will  cure  you,"  replied  he,  with  a  bitter  smile.  "Go 
back  to  the  fatherland  that  you  love  so  well,  and  I  shall  imitate  you, 
and  turn  to  mine  for  comfort.  There  is  many  a  mourning  heart  in 
Austria  less  haughty  than  yours,  to  which,  perchance,  I  may  be 
able  to  bring  joy  or  consolation.  God  grant  me  some  compensation 
in  life  for  the  supreme  misery  of  this  hour  !  Farewell,  Countess 
Wielopolska.     To-night  I  leave  Vienna." 


292  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

He  crossed  the  room,  while  she  looked  after  him  as  though  her 
lips  were  parting  to  utter  a  cry. 

At  the  door  he  turned  once  more  to  say  farewell,  btiil  she  spoke 
not  a  word,  but  looked  as  though,  like  Niobe,  she  were  stiffening 

into  marble. 

The  emperor  opened  the  door,  and  passed  into  the  anteroom. 

As  he  disappeared,  she  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  clasped  both  her 
hands  over  her  heart. 

"  My  God  !  my  God !  I  love  him, "  sobbed  she,  and  reeling  back- 
ward, she  fell  fainting  to  the  floor. 


CHAPTER    LXXII. 

FAMINE  IN   BOHEMIA. 

The  cry  of  distress  from  Bohemia  reached  Vienna,  and  came  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  emperor.  Joseph  hastened  to  bring  succor  and 
comfort  to  his  unhappy  subjects.  ,  ,     , 

Their  need  was  great.  Two  successive  years  of  short  harvest  had 
spread  want  and  tribulation  throughout  all  Germany,  especially  in 
Bohemia  and  Moravia,  where  a  terrible  inundation,  added  to  the 
failure  of  the  crops,  had  destroyed  the  fruits  and  vegetables  of  every 
field  and  every  little  garden.  ^  .    ^, 

The  country  was  one  vast  desert.  From  every  cottage  went  forth 
the  wail  of  hunger.  The  stalls  were  empty  of  cattle,  the  barns  of 
corn  The  ploughs  lay  empty  on  the  ground,  for  there  was  neither 
grain  to  sow  nor  oxen  to  drive.  There  were  neither  men  nor  women 
to  till  the  soil,  for  there  was  no  money  to  pay  nor  food  to  sustain 
them.  Each  man  was  alone  in  his  want,  and  each  sufferer  m  the 
egotism  of  a  misery  that  stifled  all  humanity,  complained  that  no 
one  fed  him,  when  all  were  fainting  for  lack  of  food. 

"Bread!  bread!"  The  dreadful  cry  arose  from  hundreds  of 
emaciated  beings,  old  and  young,  who,  in  the  crowded  cities,  lay 
dying  in  the  streets,  their  wasted  hands  raised  in  vain  supplication 
to  the  passers-by. 

"Bread  !  bread  !"  moaned  the  peasant  in  his  hut,  and  the  villager 
at  the  way-side ;  as  with  glaring  eyes  they  stared  at  the  traveller, 
who,  more  fortunate  than  they,  was  leaving  Bohemia  for  happier 
climes,  and,  surely,  in  gratitude  for  his  own  rescue,  would  throw 
a  crust  to  the  starving  wretches  whom  he  left  behind. 

There  they  lay,  watching  for  the  elegant  carriages,  the  horsemen, 
the  wagons,  that  were  accustomed  to  pass  them  on  their  road  to 
Prague.  But  now  the  high-road  was  empty,  for  the  famine  had 
extended  to  Prague,  and  no  one  cared  to  go  thither. 

And  yet  on  either  side  of  the  road  were  hundreds  of  beings  who 
long  ago  had  left  their  miserable  huts,  and  now  lay  in  heaps  upon 
the  ground,  the  heavens  their  only  shelter,  the  wide  world  their 
home.  These  were  the  inhabitants  "of  the  mountains,  who  had  come 
down  to  the  neighboring  villages  for  help,  but  had  been  rudely 
driven  away  by  those  whose  sufferings  had  maddened  them,  and 
turned  their  hearts  to  stone. 

They  had  lain  there  for  a  day,  and  yet  not  one  trace  of  a  traveller 
had  they  seen.     The  mid-day  sun  had  blistered  their  foreheads,  but 


FAMINE  IN  BOHEMIA.  293 

they  had  not  felt  it,  for  the  fiery  pangs  of  hunger  were  keener  than 
the  sun  ;  and  now  the  evening  air  that  fanned  their  burning  brows, 
brought  no  relief,  for  fiercer  and  more  cruel  grew  the  gnawings  of 
the  fiend  within. 

"There  is  no  help  on  earth,"'  cried  an  old  woman,  the  grand- 
mother of  a  whole  generation  of  stalwart  mountaineers  who  lay 
stricken  around  her.  There  were  her  son  and  his  wife,  once  such  a 
stately  pair,  now  reduced  to  two  pale  spectres  ;  there  were  troops  of 
grandchildren,  once  round-cheeked  as  the  carved  angels  on  the  altar 
of  the  village  chapel,  now  hollow-eyed  and  skinny,  with  their 
blanched  faces  upturned  imploringly  to  the  parents  who  were 
scarcely  conscious  of  their  i^resence  there.  Hunger  had  extinguished 
youth,  strength,  beauty,  and  had  almost  uprooted  love.  Not  only 
had  it  destroyed  their  bodies,  but  it  had  even  corrupted  their  souls. 

"There  is  no  help  on  earth,"  cried  the  old  woman  again,  with 
such  energy  of  despair  that  her  voice  found  its  way  to  the  dull  ear 
of  every  sutferer  around.  And  now  from  every  hollow  voice  came 
back  the  mournful  chorus,   "There  is  no  help  on  earth  !" 

"  There  is  no  help  in  heaven  !"  shrieked  an  old  man,  who  with 
his  family  was  lying  in  a  hollow,  whence  their  moans  were  heard 
as  though  coming  from  the  grave.  "  There  is  no  God  in  heaven,  else 
He  would  hear  our  cries  !     There  is  no  God  !" 

"There  is  no  God  !"  echoed  the  maddened  wretches,  and  many  a 
wasted  arm  was  raised  in  defiance  to  heaven. 

"Peace,  peace,  my  friends!"  cried  the  grandmother,  "let  us  not 
sin  because  we  starve.  We  can  but  die,  and  the  Lord  will  receive 
us  !"  And  as  she  spoke,  she  raised  her  trembling  body  and  stretched 
forth  her  poor,  withei'ed  arms,  as  though  she  would  have  calmed  the 
tempest  she  had  raised. 

"  Peace,  Father  Martin !"  cried  she,  in  a  voice  of  authority. 
"  There  is  a  God  above,  but  He  has  turned  away  His  face  because  of 
our  sins.  Let  us  pray  to  see  the  light  of  His  countenance.  Come, 
friends,  let  us  gather  up  all  our  strength  and  pray. " 

She  arose  and  knelt,  while,  inspired  by  her  example,  the  multi- 
tude knelt  also.  Old  and  young,  men  and  women,  all  with  one 
supreme  effort  lifted  up  their  hands  to  heaven. 

But  the  prayer  was  over,  the  petitioners  fell  prostrate  to  the 
earth,  and  still  no  sign  of  help  from  above  ! 

"You  see,  Mother  Elizabeth,"  groaned  Father  Martin,  "your 
prayers  ai'e  all  in  vain.     Heaven  is  empty,  and  we  must  die. " 

"We  must  die,  we  must  die  !"  howled  the  famishing  multitude, 
and,  exhausted  by  the  might  of  their  own  despair,  they  fell  to  rise 
no  more.  A  long,  fearful  silence  ensued.  Here  and  there  a  faint 
moan  struggled  for  utterance,  and  a  defiant  arm  was  raised  as  though 
to  threaten  Omnipotence ;  then  the  poor,  puny  creatures,  whom 
hunger  had  bereft  of  reason,  shivered,  dropped  their  hands,  and 
again  lay  still. 

Suddenly  the  silence  was  broken  by  the  faint  sound  of  carriage- 
wheels.  Nearer  and  more  near  it  came,  vmtil  the  horses'  heads 
were  to  be  seen  through  the  clouds  of  dust  that  enveloped  the 
vehicle.  The  poor  peasants  heard,  but  scarcelj^  heeded  it.  They 
stared  in  mute  despair,  or  murmured,  "  It  is  too  late  !" 

Still  the  caiTiage  rolled  on,  the  dust  grew  thicker,  and  now  it 
hid  fi-om  the  travellers'  view  the  miserable  wretches  that  lay  dying 
aro»iiid  them.     But,  Heaven  be  praised,  they  stop ! 


294  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

There  were  two  carriages,  followed  by  ovitriders.  The  first  car- 
riage contained  three  persons,  all  clad  in  dark,  plain  civilian's 
clothes  ;  but  it  was  easy  to  recognize,  in  the  youngest  of  the  three, 
the  most  important  personage  of  all.  It  was  he  who  had  given  the 
order  to  halt,  and  now  without  waiting  for  assistance,  he  leaped 
from  the  carriage  and  walked  at  once  to  the  foremost  group  of  suf- 
ferers. He  bent  down  to  the  old  woman,  who,  turning  her  fever- 
stricken  face  to  him,  moaned  feebly. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  the  traveller,  in  a  gentle  and  sympa- 
tliizing  tone.     "  How  can  I  help  you  ?" 

Tlie  old  mother  made  a  violent  effort  and  spoke.  "Hunger!" 
said  she.     "I  burn — burn — hunger!" 

"  Hunger  1  hunger  !"  echoed  the  people  aroimd,  shaking  off  their 
lethargy,  and  awakening  once  more  to  hope. 

"Oh,  my  God,  this  woman  will  die  before  we  can  succor  her !" 
exclaimed  the  young  man,  sorrowfully.  "Hasten,  Lacy,  and  bring 
me  some  wine. " 

"  We  have  none, "  replied  Lacy.  "  Your  majesty  gave  away  your 
last  bottle  in  the  village  behind." 

"But  she  will  die  !"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  as  bending  over  the 
poor  old  woman,  he  took  her  skinny  hand  in  his. 

"  We  must  die, "  murmured  she,  while  her  ijarched  tongue  pro- 
truded from  her  mouth. 

"  Sire,  you  are  in  danger, "  whispered  Lacy. 

"  Rise,  your  majest}', "  interrupted  Rosenberg,  "  these  unhappy 
people  have  the  typhus  that  accompanies  starvation,  and  it  is  con- 
tagious. " 

"Contagious  for  those  who  hunger,  but  not  for  us,"  replied 
Joseph.  "Oh,  my  friends,"  continued  he,  " see  here  are  three  gen- 
ertations  all  dying  for  want  of  food.  Gracious  Heaven  !  They  have 
lost  all  resemblance  to  humanity.  Hunger  has  likened  them  to  ani- 
mals. Oil,  it  is  dreadful  to  think  that  a  crust  of  bread  or  a  sip  of 
wine  might  awaken  these  suffering  creatures  to  reason ;  but  flour 
and  grain  can  be  of  no  avail  here  !" 

"  They  may  avail  elsewhere,  sire, "  said  Rosenberg,  "  and  if  we 
can  do  nothing  for  these,  let  us  go  on  and  help  others. " 

"  It  is  fearful, "  said  the  emperor,  "  but  I  will  not  leave  until  I 
have  made  an  effort  to  save  them. " 

He  signed  to  one  of  his  outriders,  and  taking  out  a  leaf  of  his 
pocket-book,  wrote  something  upon  it.  "Gallop  for  your  life  to 
Prague, "  said  he,  "and  give  tliis  paper  to  the  lord  steward  of  the 
palace.  He  must  at  once  send  a  wagon  hither,  laden  with  food  and 
wine,  and  that  he  may  be  able  to  do  it  without  delay,  tell  him  to 
take  the  stores  from  tlie  palace  and  all  the  viands  that  are  preparing 
in  the  kitchen  for  my  reception.  This  paper  will  be  jour  warrant. 
As  soon  as  you  shall  have  delivered  your  message,  fill  a  jjortmanteau 
with  old  Hungarian  wine  and  gallop  back  to  me.  Be  here  within 
two  hours,  if  you  kill  two  of  my  best  horses  to  compass  the  distance." 

The  outrider  took  the  paper  and,  setting  spurs  to  his  horse,  gal- 
loped off  to  Prague. 

"And  now,  my  friends,"  continued  the  emperor,  "although  we 
have  no  wine,  we  have  Ijread  and  meat.  Not  much,  it  is  true,  but 
1  think  it  will  save  tliese  people  from  death." 

T}h>  emperor  hastened  in  the  direction  of  his  carriage.  "  Quick, 
Giinther,  hand  me  the  camp-chest." 


FAMINE  IN  BOHEMIA.  295 

"But  your  majesty  has  not  eaten  a  morsel  to-day,"  urged  Rosen- 
berg, following  him.  "I  cannot  consent  to  see  the  food  prepared 
for  you,  bestowed  upon  any  one.  You  will  lose  your  health  if  you 
fast  for  such  a  length  of  time.  You  owe  it  to  your  mother,  the 
empress,  and  to  your  subjects,  not  to  deprive  yourself  of  food. " 

"Do  you  think  I  could  eat  iu  the  presence  of  such  hunger?"  cried 
the  emperor,  impatiently.  "Come,  Gunther.  come  all  of  you,  and 
help  me.  Here  is  a  large  fowl.  Cut  it  into  little  morsels,  and— oh, 
what  a  discovery  !— a  jar  of  beef  jelly.  While  you  carve  the  fowl, 
I  will  distribute  the  jelly.  Come,  Lacy  and  Rosenberg,  take  each  a 
portion  of  this  chicken,- and  cut  it  up." 

"  Good  Heaven,  Lacy,  come  to  my  relief  !"  cried  Rosenberg.  "  The 
emperor  is  about  to  give  away  his  last  morsel.  We  both  have  had 
breakfast,  but  he  has  not  tasted  food  for  a  day. " 

"  He  is  right,  our  noble  emperor, "  replied  Lacy,  "  in  the  presence 
of  such  suffering  he  is  right  to  forget  himself  ;  if  he  could  not  do  so, 
he  would  not  be  worthy  to  be  a  sovereign. " 

The  emperor  heard  none  of  this ;  he  was  already  with  the  suf- 
ferers, distributing  his  food.  With  earnest  look,  and  firm  and 
rapid  hand,  he  put  a  teaspoonful  of  jelly  between  th-e  parched,  half- 
opened  lips  of  the  grandmother,  while  Gimther,  imitating  him,  did 
the  same  for  her  son. 

For  a  moment  the  emperor  looked  to  see  the  effect  of  his  remedj\ 
He  saw  an  expression  of  joy  flit  over  the  features  of  the  poor  old 
woman,  and  then  her  lips  moved,  and  she  swallowed  the  jelly. 

"See,  see!"  cried  the  emperor,  overjoyed,  "she  takes  it.  Oh, 
Gunther,  this  will  save  them  until  help  comes  from  Prague !  But 
there  are  so  many  of  them  !  Do  you  think  we  have  a  hundred  tea- 
spoonfuls  of  jelly  iu  the  jar?" 

And  he  looked  anxiously  at  Giinther. 

"It  is  a  large  jar,  your  majesty,"  said  Gunther,  "and  I  think  it 
will  hold  out. " 

"Be  sparing  of  it  at  any  rate,  and  do  not  heap  up  your  spoons. 
And  now,  not  another  word  !     We  must  go  to  work. " 

He  stooped  down  and  spoke  no  more,  but  his  face  was  lit  up  by 
the  tire  of  the  Christian  charity  that  was  consuming  his  noble  heart. 
He  looked  as  must  have  looked  his  ancestor  Rvidolph  of  Hapsburg, 
who,  once  meeting  a  footsore  priest  bearing  the  viaticum  to  a  dying 
parishioner,  gave  up  his  horse  to  the  servant  of  God,  and  continued 
his  way  on  foot. 

Wliile  the  emperor  flew  from  group  to  group,  resuscitating  his 
expiring  subjects.  Lacy  and  Rosenberg  were  carefully  cutting  up 
the  fowl  that  had  been  roasted  for  his  dinner.  A  deep  silence 
reigned  around,  all  nature  seemed  to  be  at  peace,  and  over  the  re- 
clining sufferers  the  evening  sun  threw  long  rays  of  rosy  light,  that 
illumined  their  pallid  faces  with  the  hue  of  hope  and  returning 
life. 

Gradually  there  was  motion  in  the  scene.  Here  and  there  a  head 
arose  from  the  ground,  then  a  body,  and  pi-esently  a  gleam  of  intel- 
ligence shot  athwart  those  glaring,  bloodshot  eyes.  The  emperor 
watched  them  with  a  happy  smile.  His  errand  of  mercy  was  at  an 
end.  The  jar  was  empty,  but  every  one  had  received  a  share,  and 
all  were  reviving. 

"Now  give  them  a  morsel  of  chicken,"  said  Joseph.  "A  small 
piece  will  suffice,  for  after  their  long  fast  they  can  only  eat  spar- 

20 


296  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

ingly  of  food  ;  and  they  will  have  had  enough  until  help  come  to  us 
from  Prague. " 

"  Then, "  said  Rosenberg,  affectionately,  "  I  hope  that  your  ma- 
jesty, too,  will  take  something.  There  will  certainly  be  enough 
left  for  you  to  eat  your  dinner  without  remorse. " 

"Never  mind  me,  Rosenberg,"  laughed  the  emperor.  "I  shall 
not  die  of  starvation,  I  promise  you.  When  the  creature  cries  out 
for  nourishment,  I  shall  give  it ;  but  I  think  that  my  Maker  will  not 
love  me  the  less  for  having,  voluntarily,  felt  the  pangs  of  hunger  for 
once  in  my  life.  I  can  never  forget  this  day  in  Bohemia ;  it  has 
confirmed  my  resolution  to  reign  for  the  good  of  my  people  alone, 
and  as  God  hears  me,  they  shall  be  happy  when  I  govern  them.— 
But  your  chicken  is  ready.  To  satisfy  you,  I  will  go  and  beg  my 
supper  in  yonder  village,  and,  as  there  are  enough  of  you  to  attend 
to  these  poor  sufferers,  I  will  take  Lacy  to  keep  me  company. 
Come,  Lacy." 

He  took  the  arm  of  the  field-marshal,  and  both  presently  disap- 
peared behind  the  trees. 


CHAPTER    LXXIII. 

THE  BLACK  BROTH. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  they  had  reached  the  village.  The  same 
absence  of  all  life  struck  painfully  upon  the  emperor's  heart  as  they 
walked  along  the  deserted  streets  and  heard  nothing  save  the  echo 
of  their  own  footsteps.  Not  tlie  lowing  of  a  cow  nor  the  bleating  of 
a  sheep,  not  one  familiar  rural  sound,  broke  the  mournful  stillness 
that  brooded  over  the  air.  Occasionally  a  ghastly  figure  in  tattered 
garments,  from  whose  vacant  eyes  the  light  of  reason  seemed  to 
have  fled,  was  seen  crouching  at  the  door  of  a  hut,  wherein  his  wife 
and  children  were  starving.  This  was  the  only  token  of  life  that 
greeted  the  eyes  of  the  grave  and  silent  pair. 

"Lacy,"  at  last  sighed  the  emperor,  "how  fearful  is  this  deadly 
silence !  One  might  fancy  that  he  walked  in  Pompeii ;  and  Pom- 
peii, alas,  is  not  more  lonely.  To  think  that  I,  an  emperor,  must 
look  on  and  give  no  help  !" 

"Oh,  yes,  sire,  you  can  give  help,"  said  Lacy,  encouragingly. 
"  There  must  be  some  means  by  which  this  fearful  famine  can  be 
arrested. " 

"  I  have  ordered  corn  from  Hungary,  where  the  harvest  has  been 
abundant.  To  encourage  the  importation  of  grain  in  Bohemia,  I 
have  promised,  besides  good  prices,  a  premium  of  one  hundred 
guilders  for  each  well-laden,  four-horse  wagon  of  grain  that  arrives 
before  the  expiration  of  three  weeks." 

"  But  the  people  will  be  exhausted  before  three  weeks. " 

"I  have  also  ordered  the  commissary  store-houses  to  be  opened 
in  Prague,  and  the  grain  to  be  distributed." 

"This  will  last  but  for  a  few  days,"  returned  Lacy,  shaking  his 
head. 

"Then  what  can  I  do?"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  sorrowfully. 

"The  famine  is  so  great  that  it  can  scarcely  have  arisen  from 
natural  causes.     Where  scarcity  is,  there  will  always  be  found  the 


THE  BLACK  BROTH.  297 

extortioner,  who  profits  by  it.     Those  who  have  grain  are  withhold- 
ing it  for  liigher  prices." 

"Woe  to  tliem,  if  I  light  upon  their  stores  !"  exclaimed  Joseph, 
indignantly.     "Woe  to  tliose  who  traffic  in  the  fruits  of  the  earth, 
which  God  has  bestowed  for  the  use  of  all  men  !" 

"Your  majesty  will  not  find  them.  They  will  be  carefully  hid- 
den away  from  your  sight. " 

"  I  will  seek  until  I  find, "  replied  the  emperor.  "  But  look  there, 
Lacy,  what  a  stately  dwelling  rears  its  proud  head  beyond  that 
grove  of  trees  !  Is  it  the  setting  sun  that  gilds  the  windows  just 
now '?" 

"  No,  your  majest}^  the  light  is  from  within.  I  suppose  it  is  the 
castle  of  the  nobleman,  who  owns  the  village. " 

They  walked  a  few  paces  farther,  when  the  emperor  spoke  again. 
"See,  Lacy,  here  is  a  hut,  from  whose  chimney  I  see  smoke.  Per- 
haps I  shall  find  something  to  eat  witliin." 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  cottage,  and  there  on  the  floor,  in  a 
heap,  lay  a  woman  with  four  children.  Their  hollow  eyes  were 
fixed  without  the  slightest  interest  upon  the  strangers,  for  they  were 
in  the  last  stage  of  liunger- typhus,  and  saw  nothing. 

Lacy  hurried  the  emperor  away,  saying,  "  Nothing  can  help  these 
except  death.  I  know  this  terrible  fever.  I  saw  it  in  Moravia  in 
'62." 

They  stepped  from  the  cottage  to  the  kitchen.  A  fire  was  burn- 
ing in  the  chimney,  and  before  it  stood  a  man  who  was  stirring  the 
contents  of  a  pot.  " 

"God  be  praised  !"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  "here  is  food." 

The  man  turned  and  showed  a  sunken,  famished  countenance. 

"Do  you  want  supper?"  said  he  roughly.  "I  have  a  mess  in  my 
pot  that  an  emperor  might  covet." 

"  He  does  covet  it,  my  friend, "  said  the  emperor,  laughing. 
"What  have  you  there?" 

The  man  threw  sinister  glances  at  the  well-dressed  strangers,  who 
jarred  the  funeral  air  of  his  cottage  with  untimelj^  mirth. 

"Did  you  come  here  to  mock  me?"  said  he.  "Fine  folks,  like 
you,  are  after  no  good  in  a  poor  man's  cottage.  If  you  come  here  to 
pasture  upon  our  misery,  go  into  the  house,  and  there  you  will  see 
a  sight  that  will  rejoice  the  rich  man's  heart." 

"  No,  my  friend, "  replied  the  emperor,  soothingly,  "  we  come  to 
ask  for  a  share  of  your  supper. " 

The  man  broke  out  into  a  sardonic  laugh.  "My  supper!"  cried 
he.     "Come,  then,  and  see  it.     It  is  earth  and  water  !" 

"Earth  and  water  !"  cried  the  horror-stricken  Joseph. 

The  peasant  nodded.  "Yes,  "said  he,  "the  earth  gives  growth 
to  the  corn,  and  as  I  have  got  no  corn,  I  am  trying  to  see  what  it 
will  do  for  me !  I  have  already  tasted  grass.  It  is  so  green  and 
fresh,  and  seems  so  sweet  to  our  cattle,  that  we  tried  to  eat  the  siveet 
green  grass."     And  he  smiled,  but  it  was  the  smile  of  a  demon. 

"Oh,  my  God  !"  cried  tlie  emperor. 

"But  it  seems,"  continued  the  man,  as  though  speaking  to  him- 
self, "  that  God  loves  cattle  better  than  he  does  men  ;  for  the  grass 
which  sti-engthens  them,  made  us  so  sick,  so  sick,  tliat  it  would 
have  been  a  mercy  if  we  had  all  died.  It  seems  that  we  cannot  die, 
however,  so  now  I  am  going  to  eat  the  glorious  earth.  Hun-ah  / 
My  supper  is  ready. " 


298  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

He  swung  the  kettle  upon  the  table  and  poured  the  black  mass 
into  a  platter. 

"  Now, "  said  he,  with  a  fiendish  grin,  "  now  will  the  great  folks 
like  to  sup  with  me?" 

"  Yes, "  said  the  emperor,  gravely,  "  I  will  taste  of  your  supper. " 

He  stepped  to  the  table,  and  took  the  spoon  which  the  bewildered 
peasant  held  out  to  him.  Pale  with  excitement,  the  emperor  put 
the  spoon  to  his  mouth,  and  tasted.     Then  he  reached  it  to  Lacy. 

"  Taste  it.  Lacy  "  said  he.  "  Oh,  to  think  that  these  are  men  who 
suffer  the  pangs  of  starvation  !"  And  completely  overcome  by  his 
sorrowing  sympatliy,  tlie  emperor's  eyes  overflowed  with  tears. 

The  peasant  saw  them  and  said,  "Yes,  my  lord,  we  are  men,  but 
God  has  forsaken  us.  He  has  been  more  merciful  to  the  cattle,  for 
they  have  all  died. " 

"But  how  came  this  fearful  famine  among  you ?"  asked  Lacy. 
"Did  you  not  plant  corn?" 

"  How  could  we  plant  com  v.dien  we  had  none  ?  For  two  years 
our  crops  have  failed,  and  hunger  has  eaten  our  vitals  until  there  is 
not  a  man  in  the  village  who  has  the  strength  to  raise  a  fagot. " 

"  But  I  saw  a  castle  as  we  came  thither, "  said  Lacy. 

"Yes,  you  saw  the  castle  of  the  Baron  von  Weifach.  The  whole 
country  belongs  to  him  ;  but  we  are  free  peasants.  As  long  as  we 
made  any  thing,  we  paid  him  our  tithes.  But  we  have  nothing 
now. " 

And  with  a  groan  he  sank  down  upon  the  wooden  settle  that  stood 
behind  him. 

"The  baron  does  nothing  for  you,  then?" 

"Why  should  he?"  said  the  man,  with  a  bitter  laugh.  "We  pay 
no  more  tithes,  and  we  are  of  no  use  to  him.  He  prays  every  day 
for  the  famine  to  last,  and  God  hears  his  prayers,  for  God  forsakes 
the  poor  and  loves  the  rich. " 

"But  how  does  he  profit  by  the  famine?"  asked  Lacy. 

"  We  have  been  profitable  laborers  to  him,  my  lord.  For  several 
years  past,  his  corn-fields  have  been  weighed  down  with  golden 
tassels  that  made  the  heart  leap  with  joy  at  sight  of  their  beauty. 
He  had  so  much  that  his  barns  would  not  hold  it,  and  he  had  to  put 
up  other  great  barns,  thatched  with  straw,  to  shelter  it.  This  year, 
it  is  true,  he  has  reaped  nothing,  but  what  of  that?  His  barns  are 
still  full  to  overflowing. " 

"  But  how  comes  there  such  famine,  when  his  barns  are  full  of 
corn?"  asked  the  emperor,  who  was  listening  with  intense  interest. 

"  That  is  a  question  which  does  little  honor  to  your  head,  sir, " 
said  the  peasant,  with  a  grating  laugh.  "The  famine  in  BoJiemia 
is  terrible  precisely  because  the  extortioners  hold  back  their  grain 
and  will  not  sell  it. " 

" But  there  is  a  law  against  the  hoarding  of  grain." 

"  Yes,  there  are  laws  made  so  that  tlie  poor  may  be  punished  by 
tliem  and  the  rich  protected, "  said  the  peasant,  with  a  sinister  look. 
"  Oh,  yes,  there  are  laws  !  The  rich  have  only  to  say  that  they  have 
no  corn,  and  there  the  law  ends." 

"And  you  think  that  the  Bai'on  von  Weifach  has  grain?" 

The  peasant  nodded.  "I  know  it,"  said  he,  "and  when  the  time 
comes,  he  will  put  it  in  the  market." 

"What  time?" 

"When  the  need  of  the  people  will  be  so  great  that  they  will  part 


THE  BLACK  BROTH.  299 

with  their  last  acre  of  land  or  last  handful  of  gold  for  a  few  bushels 
of  grain.  Several  years  ago,  when  corn  was  cheap,  he  sent  his  corn 
abroad  to  a  country  where  the  harvest  had  been  short ;  but  he  will 
not  do  so  this  year,  for  the  rich  men  have  speculated  so  well  that 
corn  is  dearer  here  than  it  is  over  the  frontiers.  *  But  I  have  enough 
of  your  questions.     Let  me  alone,  and  go  about  your  busiuess. " 

"Can  you  buy  food  with  money?"  asked  the  emperor,  kindly. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  sir, "  said  the  peasant,  while  a  ray  of  hope  entered 
the  dark  prison  of  his  desponding  heart.  "If  I  had  money,  the 
housekeeper  of  the  baron  would  sell  me  bread,  wheat,  meat — oh,  she 
would  sell  me  any  thing  if  I  had  money  to  pay  for  it. " 

"Take  this,  then,"  said  the  emperor,  laying  several  gold  pieces  on 
the  table.   "  I  hope  to  bring  you  more  permanent  relief,  later. " 

The  peasant,  with  a  cry,  threw  himself  upon  the  gold.  He  paid 
no  attention  whatever  to  the  donor.  Shouting  for  joy  at  the  same 
time  that  he  was  shedding  tears  in  profusion,  he  darted,  with  his 
prize,  to  his  starving  wife  and  children,  to  bid  them  live  until  he 
brought  them  food. 

Without,  stood  the  emperor  and  Lacy.  "  O  God  !"  murmured  he 
to  himself,  "  and  I  have  thought  myself  a  most  unhappy  man ! 
What  is  the  grief  of  the  heart  to  such  bodily  torture  as  this  !  Come, 
Lacy,  come.  The  day  of  reckoning  is  here,  and,  by  the  eternal  God, 
I  will  punish  the  guilty  !" 

"What  means  your  majesty?"  asked  Lacy,  as  the  emperor,  in- 
stead of  returning  to  the  village,  strode  forward  toward  the  path 
that  led  to  the  castle. 

"I  mean  to  go  at  once  to  yonder  castle,"  cried  he,  with  a  threat- 
ening gesture,  "and  my  hand  shall  fall  heavily  upon  the  extortioner 
who  withholds  his  grain  from  the  people. " 

"  But  your  majesty, "  urged  Lacy,  "  the  word  of  one  discontented 
peasant  is  not  enough  to  convict  a  man.  You  must  have  proofs  be- 
fore you  condemn  him. " 

"True,  Lacy,  you  are  right.     I  must  seek  for  proof s. " 

"How,  your  majesty?" 

"  By  going  to  the  castle.  My  plan  is  already  laid.  As  they  seem 
to  be  feasting  to-day,  I  am  likely  to  find  a  goodly  assemblage  of  rich 
men  together.  I  must  get  an  invitation  to  the  feast,  and  once  there, 
if  the  charge  be  just,  I  promise  to  furnish  the  proofs." 

"Your  majesty's  undertaking  is  not  a  safe  one.  I  must,  there- 
fore, accompany  you, "  said  Lacy. 

"No,  Lacy,  I  intend  that  you  shall  meet  me  there.  Return  to 
the  place  where  we  left  Rosenberg  and  the  others,  take  one  of  the 
caiTiages,  and  drive  with  him  to  the  castle.  When  you  arrive 
there,  ask  for  me,  and  say  that  you  are  now  ready  to  proceed  on  our 
journey.  Giinther  can  remain  with  the  mountaineers,  and  if  our 
provisions  arrive  from  Prague,  he  can  dispatch  a  courier  to  let  us 
know  it." 

"Shall  we  ask  for  your  majesty  at  the  castle,  sire?" 

"Not  by  my  own  name.  Ask  for  Baron  von  Josephi,  for  by  that 
title  I  shall  introduce  myself.     Now  farewell,  and  cm  revoir. " 

*Gross-Hoflfinger,  "Life  and  Reipm  of  Joseph  II.,"  vol.  i.,  p.  138.    Carl  Ramshorn, 
"  Life  and  Times  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  99. 


300  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    LXXIV. 

THE  EXTORTIONERS  OF  QUALITY. 

The  drawing-room  of  tlie  Freilierr  von  Weifach  was  splendidly 
illuminated.  Hundreds  of  wax  lights  were  multiplied  to  intiuity 
in  the  spacious  mirrors  that  lined  the  walls,  and  separated  one  from 
another  the  richly-framed  portraits  of  the  fi'eiherr's  noble  ancestors. 
In  the  banquet-hall,  the  dinner-table  was  resplendent  with  silver 
and  gold— with  porcelain  and  crystal.  Flowers  sent  out  their  per- 
fume from  costliest  vases  of  Dresden  china,  and  rich  old  wines 
sparkled  in  goblets  of  glittering  glass.  Around  the  table  sat  a  com- 
pany of  richly-dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  rank.  They  had 
been  four  hours  at  dinner,  and  the  sense  of  enjoyment,  springing 
from  the  satisfaction  of  appetite,  \\as  visible,  not  only  on  the  flushed 
faces  of  the  men,  but  betrayed  itself  upon  the  rosj'-tinted  faces  of 
the  elegant  women  who  were  their  companions. 

The  dessert  was  on  the  table.  The  guests  were  indulging  them- 
slves  in  some  of  those  post-prandial  effusions  which  are  apt  to  blos- 
som from  heads  overheated  by  wine,  and  are  generally  richer  in 
words  than  in  wisdom.  The  host,  with  flattering  preliminaries, 
had  ]:)roposed  the  health  of  the  ladies,  and  every  goblet  sparkled  to 
the  brim.'  Just  at  that  moment  a  servant  entered  the  room  and 
whispered  a  few  words  in  his  ear.  He  turned,  smiling  to  his 
guests,  and,  apologizing  for  the  interruption,  said  : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  leave  it  to  you  to  decide  the  question 
just  proposed  to  me.  A  gentleman  has  at  this  moment  arrived  at 
the  castle,  requesting  permission  to  remain  until  some  repairs  can 
be  made  to  his  carriage,  which  has  met  with  an  accident  in  the 
neighboring  village.  Shall  we  invite  him  to  join  us  while  he  awaits 
the  return  of  liis  vehicle?" 

"Let  us  not  be  rash  in  our  hospitality,"  replied  the  freiherrin, 
from  tlie  opposite  side  of  the  table.  "  In  the  name  of  the  noble  ladies 
assembled  here,  I  crave  to  know  whether  the  stranger  who  comes  so 
sans  f agon  to  our  castle,  is  worthy  of  the  honor  proposed  by  my  hus- 
band.    In  other  words,  is  he  a  personage  of  rank?" 

"  He  presents  himself  as  the  Baron  von  Josephi, "  said  the  freiherr. 

"One  of  the  oldest  families  in  Hungary!"  exclaimed  one  of  the 
guests. 

"Then  he  can  be  admitted,"  responded  the  hostess.  "At least,  if 
it  be  agi'eeable  to  the  ladies?" 

Unanimous  consent  was  given,  and  tlie  freiherr  arose  from  his 
seat  to  convey  the  invitation  to  the  stranger. 

"The  Baron  von  Josephi !"  said  he,  reentering  with  the  gentle- 
man, and  leading  him  at  once  to  tlie  freiherrin.  She  received  him 
with  smiling  courtesy,  while  the  rest  of  the  company  directed  their 
glances  toward  him,  anxious  to  see  how  he  would  acquit  himself  in 
liis  rather  embarrassing  position.  He  was  perfectly  self-possessed, 
and  in  every  gesture  showed  himself  to  be  a  man  of  the  world. 

With  quiet  grace  he  took  his  seat  at  the  side  of  the  hostess,  and, 
as  he  looked  around  with  his  large  blue  eyes,  he  seemed  rather  to  be 
criticising  than  criticised.  With  a  sharp,  searching  expression,  his 
glances  went  from  one  of  the  company  to  another,  until  they  in 
their  turn  felt  not  only  embarrassed,  but  harassed  and  uneasy. 


THE  EXTORTIONERS  OF  QUALITY,  301 

"  I  do  not  know  why, "  whispered  one  of  them  to  the  lady  who  sat 
next  to  him,  "but  this  newcomer's  face  seems  very  familiar  to  me. 
I  must  have  met  him  somewhere  before  this. " 

"  You  certainly  might  remember  him, "  replied  the  lady,  "  if  it 
were  only  for  his  beautiful  eyes.  I  never  saw  sucli  eyes  in  my  life. 
His  jnanners,  too,  are  distinguished.  I  judge  that  he  must  have 
lived  at  court." 

"  In  other  words,  you  prefer  a  man  who  fawns  at  court  to  one 
who  reigns  like  a  prince  over  his  own  estates, "  said  the  first  speaker, 
warmly.     "'  I,  for  my  part — " 

"  Hush  !     Let  us  hear  what  he  is  saying, "  inteiTupted  the  lady. 

"  I  am  imder  many  obligations  for  your  hospitality, "  said  the 
Baron  von  Josephi  to  the  hostess.  "For  three  days  that  I  have 
travelled  in  Bohemia,  I  have  naet  with  nothing  but  poverty  and 
starvation.  Thanks  to  my  entrance  into  your  splendid  home,  I  see 
tliat  plenty  still  reigns  in  the  castle,  although  it  may  have  departed 
from  the  cottage. " 

"Yes,  thank  Heaven,  we  know  how  to  take  care  of  our  own 
interests  here, "  said  the  freiherr,  laughing. 

"  And  yet  you  see  how  things  are  exaggerated, "  replied  tiie  Baron 
von  Josephi,  laugliing.  "Such  dreadful  tidings  of  the  famine  in 
Bohemia  reached  Vienna  that  the  emperor  is  actually  on  his  way  to 
investigate  the  matter.  I  met  him  not  far  from  Budweis,  and  he 
seemed  very  sad  I  thought. " 

"By  the  saints,  he  has  reason  to  feel  sad,"  exclaimed  one  of  the 
guests.  "He  will  find  nothing  here  for  his  howling  subjects.  He 
would  have  been  wiser  had  he  stayed  in  Vienna  !" 

"Yes,  poor,  sentimental  little  emperor!"  cried  another  with  a 
laugh.  "He  will  find  that  tiie  stamp  of  his  imperial  foot  will  con- 
jure no  corn  out  of  the  earth,  wlierewith  to  feed  his  starving  boors." 

"  I  do  not  see  why  he  should  meddle  with  the  boors  at  all, "  added 
a  third.  "  Hungry  serfs  are  easy  to  govern  ;  they  have  no  time  to 
cry  for  rights  when  they  ai"e  crying  for  bread." 

"  If  tlie  gentlemen  are  going  to  talk  of  politics, "  said  the  hostess, 
rising  from  her  seat,  "  it  is  time  for  ladies  to  retire.  Come,  ladies, 
our  cavaliers  will  join  us  when  coffee  is  served. " 

The  gentlemen  rose,  and  not  until  the  last  lady  had  passed  from 
the  room  did  they  resume  their  seats. 

"And  now,  gentlemen,"  said  Baron  von  Jcsephi,  "as  our  politi- 
cal gossip  can  no  longer  annoy  the  ladies,  allow  me  to  saj-^  that  my 
presence  here  is  not  accidental,  as  I  had  led  you  to  suppose. " 

"And  to  what  are  we  indebted  for  the  honor?"  asked  the  host. 

"I  will  explain, "  said  the  baron,  inclining  his  head.  "  You  have 
received  me  with  the  hospitality  of  the  olden  time,  without  inquir- 
ing my  rank,  lineage,  or  dwelling-place.  Permit  me  to  introduce 
myself.  I  have  estates  in  Moravia,  and  they  are  contiguous  to  those 
of  Count  Hoditz. " 

"Then,"  replied  Freiherr  von  Weifach,  "I  sympathize  with  you, 
for  nowhere  in  Austria  has  the  famine  been  more  severe." 

"Severe,  indeed!  The  poor  are  dying  like  flies,  for  they  cannot 
learn  to  live  upon  grass. " 

"Neither  will  they  learn  to  live  upon  it  in  Bohemia,"  said  the 
freiherr,  laughing.  "  The  people  are  so  unreasonable  !  The  noblest 
race-horse  lives  upon  hay  and  grass ;  why  should  it  not  be  good 
enough  for  a  peasant  of  low  degi-ee?" 


302  JOSEPH   II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

"Mere  prejudice  on  the  part  of  the  peasant !"  returned  the  baron. 
"  I  liave  always  suspected  him  of  aiiectation.  I  have  no  patience 
with  grumblers. " 

"You  are  right,  baron,"  said  his  neighbor,  nodding  and  smiling. 
"  The  people  are  idle  and  wasteful ;  and  if  we  were  to  listen  to  their 
complaints,  we  would  soon  be  as  poor  as  they. " 

"And  what  if  a  few  thousand  perish  here  and  there?"  intei-posed 
another.  "They  never  would  be  missed,  for  they  multiply  like 
potatoes. " 

"  You  say,  baron, "  resumed  the  host,  "  that  you  paid  no  attention 
to  the  complaints  of  your  peasantry '?" 

"  I  did  like  Ulysses,  gentlemen ;  I  stopped  my  ears  with  wax, 
that  my  heart  might  not  grow  weak. " 

"A  melodious  siren  song,  to  be  sure,"  laughed  the  company  ;  "a 
dirge  of  bread  !  bread  !  bread  !" 

"  Ah,  you  know  the  song,  I  perceive, "  said  the  Baron  von  Josephi, 
joining  in  the  laugh. 

"  Yes  ;  and  we  do  as  jou  have  done,  baron.     We  stop  our  ears. " 

"The  consequence  is,"  continued  Josephi,  "that  my  granaries 
are  full  to  overflowing.  I  was  on  my  way  to  Prague  to  dispose  of 
it,  but  the  want  which  I  have  seen  on  your  estates,  freiherr,  has 
touched  my  heart.  Nowhere  have  I  beheld  any  thing  to  equal  it. 
Hundreds  of  starving  peasants  are  on  the  high-road,  not  a  mile  off." 

"Did  you  honor  us  with  your  presence  to  tell  me  this?"  asked  the 
host,  with  lowering  brow.  "If  so,  you  might  have  spared  your 
trouble,  for  I  know  it. " 

"  Oh  no  ;  I  came  to  you  with  the  best  intentions.  I  have  no  pity 
for  the  peasant,  but  some  for  yourself.  The  health  of  his  workmen 
is  the  nobleman's  wealth.  Now  my  own  people  are  almost  all  dead, 
and  as  I  grieve  to  see  your  lands  wasted,  I  ofl:er  you  my  corn. " 

"Which  means  that  you  wish  me  to  buy  it,"  said  the  freiherr, 
with  a  significant  smile. 

"  Yes ;  and  you  can  have  it  at  once.  I  know  that  I  might  do 
better  by  waiting,  but  I  have  a  tender  heart,  and  am  willing  to  part 
with  it  now.     I  make  you  the  offer. " 

"How  much  a  strich .?"  *  asked  the  freiherr. 

"Twenty  florins.     You  will  find  it  cheap." 
Very  cheap,  forsooth  !"  cried  the  host,  with  a  loud  laugh,  in 
which  his  guests  all  joined.     "  Y"ou  wish  me  to  buy  your  corn  for 
my  peasants?    Why,  it  will  be  worth  its  weight  in  gold,  and  they 
have  none  wherewith  to  pay  lue. " 

"  You  are  a  humane  landlord  and  a  nobleman  ;  and  I  take  it  for 
granted  that  you  will  make  it  a  gift  to  your  peasantry. " 

"Why  did  you  not  do  as  much  yourself ?"  asked  the  freiherr, 
scornfully.  "Have  you  not  just  now  said  that  your  people  were 
dying,  while  your  granaries  are  full?  No,  no  ;  I  want  no  corn  ;  but 
when  corn  has  truly  risen  to  twenty  florins,  then  I  shall  open  my 
granaries,  and  my  crops  shall  be  for  sale. " 

And  the  freiherr  filled  his  glass  and  drank  a  bumper. 

"You  should  not  speak  so  loud,"  said  Josephi,  "for  you  know 
that  the  emperor  has  issued  an  edict,  exacting  that  all  those  who 
have  grain  shall  meet  him  in  Prague,  that  the  government  may  buy 
their  grain  at  a  reasonable  price. " 

"What  fool  would  heed  such  an  edict?"  cried  the  freiherr.     "The 
♦A  strich,  in  Prague,  was  something  more  than  two  bushels. 


THE  EXTORTIONEES  OF  QUALITY.  303 

emperor  is  not  master  of  our  granaries.  In  the  rural  districts  the 
nobleman  is  emperor,  and  God  forbid  that  it  should  ever  be  other- 
wise !" 

"But  the  emperor  has  appointed  commissioners,  who  go  from 
place  to  place,  and  inspect  the  crops. " 

"Yes;  they  came  hither,  and  they  came  to  all  of  us — did  they 
not,  my  lords?" 

"  Yes,  yes  !"  cried  a  chorus  of  merry  noblemen. 

"But  they  found  nothing— nothing  but  a  few  hundred  florins 
that  glided,  unaccountably,  into  their  hands,  and  caused  them  to 
abscond  in  a  hurry.  This  people-loving  emperor  deserves  the  eter- 
nal gratitude  of  his  commissioners,  for  although  they  found  no  corn 
for  him,  they  found  an  abundance  of  gold  for  themselves." 

Josephi  colored  violently,  and  his  whole  frame  trembled.  His 
hand  clutched  the  wine-glass  which  he  held,  and  he  seemed  to 
breathe  with  difficulty. 

No  one  observed  it.  The  company  were  excited  by  wine,  and 
their  senses  were  dim  and  clouded.  But  for  this  sumptuous  dinner, 
at  which  he  had  indulged  himself  too  far,  the  freiherr  would  never 
have  betrayed  the  secret  of  his  overflowing  barns. 

Josephi,  meanwhile,  controlled  his  indignation,  and  spoke  again. 
"So,  freiherr,  you  all  reject  my  proposal." 

"  I  do.     God  be  praised,  I  have  enough  and  to  spare  !" 

"  Then,  gentlemen, "  continued  the  baron,  "  I  ofi'er  it  to  any  one 
of  you.  You  are  all  from  this  unhappy  district,  and  some  one  of 
you  must  be  in  need  of  grain. " 

"We  are  the  freiherr's  neighbors,  and  have  borrowed  his  wis- 
dom,"  said  one  of  the  company,  "and  I  can  answer  for  all  present 
that  they  are  well  provided. " 

"There  are  seven  of  you  present,  and  none  needing  grain?"  ex- 
claimed Von  Josephi. 

"  Yes.     Seven  noblemen,  all  abounding  in  grain. " 

"Seven  extortioners!"  cried  Josephi,  rising  from  his  seat,  and 
looking  as  if  he  would  have  stricken  them  to  the  earth  with  the 
lightning  of  liis  flashing  eyes. 

"What  means  this  insolence?"  asked  the  host. 

"  It  means  that  I  have  found  here  seven  men  of  noble  birth,  who 
have  disgraced  their  caste  by  fattening  upon  the  misery  of  their 
fellows.  But,  by  the  eternal  God  !  the  extortioner  shall  be  branded 
throughout  the  world.  And  be  he  gentle  or  base-born,  he  sliall  feel 
the  weight  of  my  just  indignation. " 

While  the  emperor  spoke,  the  company  had  been  awaking  from 
the  stupor  caused  by  the  wine  they  had  been  drinking.  Gradually 
their  heads  were  raised  to  listen,  and  their  eyes  shot  fire,  until,  at 
last,  they  sprang  from  their  seats,  crying  out : 

"  Who  dares  speak  thus  to  us?  By  what  right  do  you  come  to  in- 
sult us?" 

"By  what  right?"  thundered  the  emperor.  "The  emperor  has 
given  me  the  right — the  little  chicken-hearted  emperor,  whose  com- 
missioners you  have  bribed,  and  whose  subjects  you  have  oppressed, 
until  nothing  remains  for  him  but  to  come  among  you  and  drag 
your  infamy  to  daylight  with  his  own  hands." 

"The  emperor  f  it  is  the  emperor!"  groaned  the  terror-stricken 
extortioners,  while  Joseph  looked  contemptuously  upon  their  pale 
and  con.science-stricken  faces. 


304  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Suddenl}'  the  host  burst  into  a  maudlin  laugh. 

"  Do  you  not  see, "  said  he,  "  that  our  facetious  guest  is  making 
game  of  us  to  revenge  himself  for  our  refusal  to  buy  his  corn?" 

"  True,  true, "  cried  the  lords  together.     "  It's  a  jest — a  trick  to — " 

"  Peace  !"  cried  the  emperor.  "  The  hour  for  jesting  has  passed 
by,  and  the  hour  of  retribution  is  here.  I  came  to  Bohemia  to  feed 
my  starving  subjects,  and  I  will  feed  them  !  But  I  shall  also  punish 
those  who,  having  bread,  have  withheld  it  from  the  poor.  You 
sliall  not  bribe  me  with  your  parchments  of  nobility  t>r  with  your 
pride  of  family.  The  pillory  is  for  the  criminal,  and  his  rank  shall 
not  save  him. " 

"Mercy,  gracious  sovereign,  mercy !"  cried  the  freiherr,  whose 
glowing  cheeks  were  now  as  pale  as  death.  "Your majesty  will  not 
condemn  us  for  the  idle  words  we  have  spoken  from  excesss  of 
wine?" 

"What  lyercy  had  you  upon  the  wailing  wretches,  of  whose 
misery  you  have  made  such  sport  to-day?" 

"Your  majesty,"  said  one  of  the  noblemen,  sullenly,  "there  is 
no  law  to  prevent  a  man  from  holding  his  own,  and  the  Bohemian 
nobleman  has  his  own  code  of  justice,  and  is  amenable  to  no  other." 

"The  Bohemian  nobleman  shall  enjoy  it  no  longer!"  exclaimed 
the  outraged  emperor.  "  Before  their  earthly  judges  men  shall  be 
equal,  as  they  are  before  the  throne  of  God. " 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  emperor's  suite  came  in. 

"Lacy,  Lacy!"  cried  Joseph,  "you  were  right.  The  famine  is 
not  the  result  of  a  short  harvest.  It  is  due  to  these  monsters  of 
wickedness,  whom  you  see  before  you  in  the  enjoyment  of  every 
luxury  that  sensuality  can  crave." 

"  Mercy,  sire,  mercy !"  cried  a  chorus  of  imploring  voices,  and 
looking  behind  liim,  the  emperor  saw  the  ladies,  who  all  sank  upon 
their  knees  at  his  feet. 

While  Joseph  had  been  speaking  with  Lacy,  the  lord  of  the  castle 
had  hastened  to  communicate  their  disgrace,  and  to  bring  the  wives 
of  the  criminals  to  their  assistance. 

The  emperor  frowned.  "Ladies."  said  he,  "we  are  on  the  sub- 
ject of  politics,  the  same  subject  which  banished  you  hence  not  long 
ago.     Rise,  therefore,  and  retire — this  is  no  place  for  you, " 

"No,  sire,"  cried  the  Freiherrin  von  Weifach,  "I  will  not  rise 
until  I  obtain  pardon  for  my  husband.  I  do  not  know  of  what  he 
has  been  guilty,  but  I  know  that  our  noble  emperor  cannot  condenm 
the  man  under  whose  roof  he  has  come  as  an  invited  guest.  I  know 
that  the  emperor  is  too  generous  to  punish  him,  who,  confiding  in 
him  as  a  man,  little  suspected  that  he  who  came  under  a  borrowed 
name  was  the  sovereign  lord  of  all  Austria. " 

"Ah,  madame,  you  reproach  me  with  an  hour  spent  at  j'oiu' 
table,  and  you  expect  me  to  overlook  crime  in  consideration  of  the 
common  courtesy  extended  to  me  as  a  man  of  your  own  rank.  I 
was  so  fortunate  as  to  overhear  the  little  discussion  that  preceded 
my  entrance  here.  Rise,  madame,  I  am  not  fond  of  Spanish  cus- 
toms, nor  do  I  like  to  see  women  on  their  knees." 

"Mercy  for  my  husband!"  reiterated  the  freiherrin.  "Forgive 
him  for  thinking  more  of  his  own  family  than  of  others.  What  he 
did  was  for  love  of  his  wife  and  children." 

"  Ah  !"  exclaimed  tlie  emperor,  "  you  call  that  love  of  his  family  ! 
You  would  elevate  his  cruel  avari;e  into  a  domestic  virtue.     I  con- 


THE  EXTORTIONERS  OF  QUALITY.  305 

gratulate  you  upon  your  high  standard  of  ethics  !  But  rise,  I  com- 
mand you.  Meanwhile,  you  are  right  on  one  point  at  least.  I 
have  eaten  of  your  salt,  and  I  am  too  true  a  nobleman  to  betray  you 
to  the  emperor.  I  will  merely  tell  him  that  the  corn  is  found,  and 
that  his  poor  people  may  rejoice.  Open  your  granaries,  therefore, 
my  lords.  Let  each  of  you  this  night  send  a  courier  to  your  tenants, 
proffering  grain  to  all,  free  of  charge,  stipulating  only  that,  as  a" 
return  for  the  gift,  the  peasantry  shall  bestow  a  portion  of  their  corn 
upon  their  mother  earth.*  You  will  see  how  magical  is  the  effect 
of  generosity.  Your  stores  will  scatter  blessings  over  this  unhappy 
land,  and  the  jjoor  will  bless  you  as  their  benefactors.  Yes,  gentle- 
men, from  this  day  forward  you  will  be  the  friends  of  the  needy  ; 
for,  God  be  praised,  you  have  corn,  and,  for  the  sake  of  your  corn, 
I  forgive  you.  But  see  that  the  future  makes  full  atonement  for  the 
past. " 

No  one  answered  a  word.  With  sullen  mien  and  downcast  eyes 
they  stood,  while  the  emperor  surveyed  them  with  surprise. 

"What !"  said  he,  after  a  long  and  painful  pause,  "not  a  word  of 
thanks  !  Joy  has  made  you  dumb,  I  perceive.  And  no  wonder  ;  for 
to  feel  (for  the  first  time)  the  pleasures  of  benevolence  may  well 
make  you  speechless  with  happiness.  As  for  you,  madame,"  con- 
tinued the  emperor,  addressing  his  hostess,  "I  will  not  deprive  you 
of  a  share  in  your  husband's  generosity.  You  will  be  so  kind  as  to 
call  up  your  servants  and  bid  them  load  a  wagon  with  the  remains 
of  our  excellent  dinner,  not  forgetting  the  wines  ;  and  you  will  then 
send  it,  with  your  greetings,  to  your  tenants  in  yonder  village.  Your 
servants  can  go  from  house  to  house  until  the  store  is  exhausted." 

"  I  will  do  what  your  majesty  commands, "  said  the  freiherrin, 
pale  with  rage. 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it, "  replied  the  emperor,  laughing.  "  And  as  I 
will  be  glad  to  hear  liow  your  bounty  is  received  in  the  village,  two 
of  my  own  attendants  will  accompany  yours.  Farewell,  my  lords, 
I  must  leave  you,  for  I  have  a  large  company  on  the  high-road 
whom  I  have  invited  to  supper.  The  freiherrin  will  oblige  me  by 
receiving  them  to-night  as  her  guests.  In  this  stately  castle  there 
are,  doubtless,  several  rooms  that  can  be  thrown  open  to  these  weary, 
suffering  mountaineers.  Have  I  your  permission  to  send  them 
hither?" 

"I  will  obey  your  majesty's  commands,"  sobbed  the  lady,  no 
longer  able  to  control  her  tears. 

The  emperor  bowed,  and  turning  to  his  attendants,  said,  "Come, 
my  friends,  our  messengers  havr  probably  arrived  before  this,  and 
our  guests  await  us." 

He  advanced  to  the  door,  but  suddenly  stopped  and  addressed  the 
company.  "My  lords,"  said  he,  "for  once  your  wisdom  has  been 
at  fault.  It  is  well  that  the  sentimental  little  emperor  did  not  re- 
main, as  you  advised,  in  Vienna  ;  for  the  stamp  of  his  imperial  foot 
has  struck  abundance  out  of  the  earth,  and  it  will  save  the  lives  of 
his  starving  boors. " 

♦Gross-Hoffinger,  vol.  i.,  p.  141. 


306  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    LXXV. 

DIPLOMATIC    ESOTERICS. 

Prince  Kaunitz  was  in  his  cabinet.  Baron  Binder  was  reading 
aloud  the  secret  dispatches  which  had  just  come  in  from  the  Aus- 
trian ambassador  at  Berlin,  the  j'oung  Baron  van  Swieten.  Mean- 
while, Kaunitz  was  busy  with  a  brush  of  peacock's  feathers,  dusting 
the  expensive  trifles  that  covered  his  escritoir'e,  or  polishing  its 
ebony  surface  with  a  fine  silk  handkerchief  which  he  kept  for  the 
purpose.  This  furbishing  of  trinkets  and  furniture  was  a  private 
pastime  with  the  all-powerful  minister ;  and  many  a  personage  of 
rank  was  made  to  wait  in  the  anteroom,  while  he  finished  his  dust- 
ing or  rearranged  his  bijouterie,  until  it  was  grouped  to  his  satis- 
faction. 

The  dispatches  which  were  being  read  were  of  the  highest  im- 
portance ;  for  they  related  to  a  confidential  conversation  with  the 
King  of  Prussia  on  the  subject  of  the  political  apple,  at  which  all 
were  striving  for  the  largest  bite.  The  King  of  Prussia,  wrote  the 
ambassador,  had  spoken  jestingly  of  the  partition  of  Poland.  He 
had  bespoken  for  himself  the  distinct  of  Netz  and  Polish  Prussia, 
premising  that  Dantzic,  Thorn,  and  Cracow  were  to  be  left  to 
Poland. 

"Very  well  arranged, "  said  Kaunitz,  with  his  accustomed  so »gr 
froid,  while  he  brightened  the  jewels  of  a  Sevres  inkstand  which 
had  been  presented  to  him  by  Madame  de  Pompadour.  "  Vraiment 
the  naivete  of  this  Frederick  is  prodigious.  He  appropriates  the 
richest  and  most  cultivated  districts  of  Poland  to  himself  ;  and  then 
inserts,  as  an  unimportant  clause,  the  stipulation  that  Cracow,  with 
its  adjacent  territory,  the  rich  salt  mines  of  Wieliczka,  shall  not 
belong  to  Austria. " 

"  Van  Swieten  would  not  agree  to  the  arrangement, "  said  Binder, 
"  and  he  furthermore  declared  to  the  king  that  such  a  distribution 
would  be  prejudicial  to  Austria.  He  proposed,  however,  that 
Austria  might  be  indemnified  by  the  possession  of  Bosnia  and  Servia, 
which  the  Porte  should  be  made  to  yield. " 

"What  a  preposterous  fool !"  exclaimed  Kaunitz.  "Who  gave 
him  the  right  to  make  such  a  proposition — " 

"Why,  your  highness,  I  suppose  he  thought — " 

"He  has  no  right  to  think, "  interrupted  Kaunitz.  "Task  of  no 
employe  of  mine  to  think.  My  envoys  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
work  out  my  thoughts,  and  that  without  any  intervention  of  their 
own  fancies.  It  is  very  presuming  in  my  little  diplomatic  agents 
to  think  what  I  have  not  thought,  and  of  their  own  accord  to  make 
propositions  to  foreign  courts.  Write  and  tell  him  so.  Binder,  and 
add,  that  neither  our  permanent  peaceful  relations  with  Turkey, 
nor  the  sentiments  of  consideration  which  are  entertained  by  the 
empress  for  the  Porte,  will  allow  of  any  attempt  to  lessen  his  terri- 
tory."* 

"Then  you  are  really  in  earaest, "  and  intend  to  be  a  firm  ally  of 
the  Porte?"  inquired  Binder  with  astonisliment. 

"In  earnest!"  re])eated  Kaunitz,  witli  a  shrug.  " You  statesman 
in  swaddling-clothes  !  You  do  not  know  the  first  principles  of  your 
*Wilhelm  von  Dohm,  "Memoirs  of  My  Time,"  vol.  i.,  489. 


DIPLOMATIC  ESOTERICS.  307 

profession ;  and  yet  you  have  lived  with  me  for  thirty  years !  In 
diplomacy  there  is  no  such  thing  as  stability  of  policy.  Policy 
shapes  itself  according  to  circumstances,  and  changes  as  they 
change.  The  man  who  attempted  to  follow  fixed  principles  in  inter- 
national policy,  would  scon  find  himself  and  his  government  on  the 
verge  of  a  precipice. " 

"  And  yet  there  is  no  statesman  in  Europe  who  adheres  so  closely 
to  his  principles  as  yourself,"  exclaimed  Binder,  with  the  enthu- 
siasm of  true  friendship. 

Kaunitz  majestically  inclined  his  head.  "My  principles  are 
these :  To  make  Austria  rich,  great,  powerful.  Austria  shall  be 
quocanque  modo,  the  first  power  in  Evu-ope  ;  and  in  after-years  the 
world  shall  say  that  the  genius  of  Kavmitz  placed  her  on  the  moun- 
tain-peaks of  her  greatness.  For  this  end,  it  is  indispensable  that  I 
remain  at  the  head  of  European  affairs.  Not  only  Austria,  but  all 
Europe,  looks  to  me  to  guide  her  through  the  storm  that  is  threat- 
ening the  general  peace.  I  dare  not  leave  the  helm  of  state  to  take 
one  hour's  rest ;  for  what  would  become  of  the  great  continental 
ship,  if,  seeking  my  own  comfort,  I  v/ere  to  retire  and  yield  her 
fortunes  to  some  unsteady  hand?  There  is  no  one  to  replace  me! 
No  one !  It  is  only  once  in  a  century  that  Heaven  vouchsafes  a 
great  statesman  to  the  world.  This  makes  me  fear  for  Austria 
when  I  shall  have  gone  from  earth  and  there  is  no  one  to  succeed 
me."* 

"May  you  live  many  years  to  rule  in  Austria!"  cried  Binder, 
warmly  ;  "you  are  indispensable  to  her  welfare. " 

"I  know  it,  "said  Kaunitz,  gravely.  "But  there  are  aspirants 
for  political  fame  in  Austria,  who  would  like  to  lay  their  awkward 
hands  upon  the  web  that  I  weave?  No  one  knows  how  far  the 
youthful  impetuosity  and  boundless  vanity  of  such  ambition  may 
go.  It  might  lead  its  possessor  to  entertain  the  insane  idea  that  he 
could  govern  Austria  without  my  guidance. " 

"  You  speak  of  the  Emperor  Josejih  ?" 

"Yes,  I  do.  He  is  ambitious,  overbearing,  and  vain.  He  mis- 
takes his  stupid  longings  to  do  good  for  capacity.  He  lusts  for  fame 
through  war  and  concjuest,  and  would  change  every  thing  in  his 
mother's  empire,  for  the  mere  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  the 
change  was  his  own  work.  Oh,  what  would  become  of  Austria  if  I 
were  not  by,  to  keep  him  within  bounds?  It  will  task  all  my  genius 
to  steer  between  the  Scj'lla  of  a  bigoted,  peace-loving  empress,  and 
the  Charybdis  of  this  reckless  emperor ;  to  reconcile  their  antago- 
nisms, and  overrule  their  prejudices.  Maria  Theresa  is  for  peace  and 
a  treaty  with  the  Porte,  who  has  lately  been  a  good-natured,  harm- 
less neighbor — Joseph  thirsts  for  war  that  he  may  enlarge  his 
dominions  and  parade  himself  before  the  world  as  a  militaiy  genius. 
If  his  mother  were  to  die  to-morrow,  he  would  plunge  headlong 
into  a  war  with  Russia  or  Turkey,  whichever  one  he  might  happen 
to  fancy.  I  am  obliged  to  hold  this  prospect  forever  before  his  eyes 
to  keep  him  quiet.  I  must  also  pay  my  tribute  to  the  whims  of  the 
reigning  empress  ;  and  if  we  declare  war  to  pacify  Joseph,  we  must 
also  make  it  appear  to  Maria  Theresa  that  war  is  inevitable. " 

"  By  Heaven,  that  is  a  delicate  web,  indeed !"  cried  Binder, 
laughing. 

"Yes,  and  let  no  presuming  hand  ever  touch  a  thread  of  it!" 
*The  prince's  own  words.    See  Swinburne,  vol.  i.,  p.  230. 


308  JOSEPH  II.    AND   HIS  COURT. 

replied  Kaunitz.  "I  say  as  much  as  I  have  said  to  you,  Binder,  be- 
cause the  greatest  minds  must  sometimes  find  a  Tent  for  their  con- 
ceptions, and  I  trust  nobody  on  eartli  except  you.  Now  you  know 
what  I  mean  by  'permanent  treaties  with  the  Porte, '  and  I  liope  you 
will  not  ask  any  more  silly  questions.  You  ignoramus!  that  have 
lived  so  long  with  Kaunitz  and  have  not  yet  learned  to  know  him  !" 

"Your  highness  is  beyond  the  comprehension  of  ordinary  men," 
said  Binder,  with  a  good-humored  smile. 

"I  believe  so, "  replied  Kaunitz,  with  truthful  simplicity  ;  while 
he  carefully  placed  his  paper,  pens,  lines,  and  penknife  in  the 
drawer  wherein  they  belonged. 

The  door  opened,  and  a  servant  announced  his  excellency  Osman 
Pacha,  ambassador  of  tlie  Ottoman  Porte. 

"Very  well,"  replied  Kaunitz  with  a  nod,  "I  will  see  him 
presently." 

"  You  see, "  said  he  to  Binder,  as  the  door  closed  upon  the  sei-vant, 
"  we  are  about  to  begin  in  earnest  witli  tlie  Porte.  I  sliall  receive 
him  in  tlie  drawing-room.  Meanwhile,  remain  here,  for  I  shall 
need  you  again. " 

He  smiled  kindly  upon  his  friend,  and  left  the  room.  Binder 
looked  after  him  with  tenderest  admiration.  "He  is  a  very  great 
man, "  said  he  to  himself ,  "and  he  is  right.  But  for  him,  Austria 
would  fall  to  the  rank  of  a  second  power.  What  if  he  does  know  it 
and  boast  of  it?    He  is  a  truthful  and  candid  man.      Voild  tout." 

And  he  sat  down  to  write  to  Van  Swieten  in  Berlin  to  beware  of 
saying  any  thing  prejudicial  to  the  interests  of  the  Porte. 

He  had  just  concluded  his  letter  when  Kaunitz  returned.  His 
countenance  was  beaming  with  satisfaction  and  his  lips  were  lialf 
pai'ting  with  a  smile.  "  Binder, "  said  he,  laying  a  roll  of  papers  on 
the  escritoire,  "  here  are  sugarplums  for  the  emperor.  Can  you 
guess  what  I  have  in  these  papers?" 

"  Not  a  declaration  of  war  from  Russia  !"  exclaimed  Binder. 

"Hm  ;  something  very  like  it,  I  assure  j'ou.  Listen!  It  is  the 
secret  treaty  that  our  minister  at  Constantinople,  Herr  von  Thugut, 
has  just  concluded  with  the  Porte.  The  Sultan  lias  already  signed 
it,  and  to-day  I  shall  present  it  for  signature  to  the  empress.  She 
will  do  it  readily  ;  for  although  she  may  not  absolutely  dote  on  tlie 
infidel,  she  hates  Russia  ;  and  the  unbelieving  Turk  is  dearer  to  her 
than  her  Christian  cousin,  tlie  Empress  Catharine. " 

"Tlien,  after  all,  we  are  the  firm  allies  of  Turkey?"  said  Binder. 

The  prince  gave  a  shrug,  and  trifled  with  the  papers  he  had 
brought  with  him.  "We  have  bound  ourselves,"  said  he,  reading 
here  and  there  among  the  leaves,  "  to  bring  about  a  peace  between 
Russia  and  Turkey,  by  which  the  former  shall  restore  to  the  latter  all 
the  provinces  which  she  has  conquered  from  the  Porte  ;  or.  if  not 
all,  those  which  are  indispensable  to  preserve  the  honor  of  Turkey 
intact.  We  have  furtliermore  bound  ourselves  to  secure  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  Republic  of  Poland." 

"But,  prince,  that  contradicts  all  your  previous  understandings 
with  Prussia  and  Russia  :  it  contradicts  your  plans  for  the  partition 
of  Poland.  It  will  certainly  lead  to  war,  for  our  highness  has  for- 
gotten that  Prussia  and  Russia  have  already  agreed,  for  the  soi  disant 
pacification  of  Poland,  to  appropriate  the  greater  part  of  lier  prov- 
inces to  themselves. " 

"I  beg  you  to  believe,  my  verdant  friend,  that  I  never  forget  any 


DIPLOMATIC  ESOTERICS.  309 

thing,"  said  Kaunitz,  somewhat  haughtily.  "I  am  perfectly  au 
fait  to  the  Russo-Prussian  treaty  ;  but  I  liave  not  been  invited  to  the 
banquet,  and  I  do  not  intend  to  go  uninvited.  When  they  speak, 
we  will  consider  their  offers.  If  they  say  nothing,  we  go  to  war. 
If  they  speak,  we  will  allow  ourselves  to  be  persuaded  to  share  the 
booty  which  we  cannot  restore  to  its  owners.  In  that  way,  we  are 
in  a  manner  forced  into  this  coalition,  and  the  opprobrium  of  the 
act  falls  upon  those  who  devised  it,  while  Maria  Theresa's  scruples 
will  be  more  easily  overcome.  " 

"  Prince, "  said  Binder,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  give  it  iip.  I  never  will 
make  a  statesman.  I  listen  to  your  words  as  to  a  Delphic  oracle, 
and  do  not  pretend  to  understand  their  ambiguous  meaning.  I 
understand,  however,  do  I  not,  that  we  are  the  allies  of  the  Sultan? 
Now  we  thereby  do  him  a  great  favor — what  does  he  give  in  return?" 

"Not  much,  but  still  something,"  said  Kaunitz,  M-ith  comi^osure, 
while  his  fingers  again  turned  over  the  leaves.  "  The  Porte,  who, 
like  yourself,  apprehends  war  with  Russia,  understands  that  if 
Austria  is  to  befriend  him,  she  must  put  her  army  upon  a  war  foot- 
ing. If  Austria  is  to  do  this  for  the  sake  of  Turkey,  Turkey  of 
course  must  furnish  the  means.  The  Porte  then,  in  the  course  of 
the  next  eight  months,  will  pay  us  the  sum  of  twenty  thousand 
purses,  each  containing  five  hundred  silver  piasters.  Four  thousand 
purses  will  be  paid  down  as  soon  as  the  ti-eaty  is  signed. "  * 

"Ten  millions  of  piasters!"  exclaimed  Binder,  with  uplifted 
hands.  "  By  Heaven,  prince,  you  are  a  second  Moses.  You  know 
how  to  strike  a  rock  so  that  a  silver  fountain  shall  gush  from  its 
barrenness. " 

"  I  shall  make  good  use  of  it,  too.  Our  coffers  need  replenishing, 
and  the  emperor  will  rejoice  to  see  them  filled  with  the  gold  of  the 
iutidel.  It  will  enable  him  to  raise  and  equip  a  gallant  army,  and 
that  will  give  him  such  unbounded  delight  that  we  are  sure  of  his 
signature.  Besides  this,  the  Porte  presents  us  with  a  goodly  portion 
of  Wallachia  ;  he  fixes  tlie  boundaries  of  Transylvania  to  our  com- 
plete satisfaction,  and  allows  us  free  trade  with  the  Ottoman  empire, 
both  by  land  and  by  water. " 

"But  all  these  concessions  will  cost  us  a  war  with  Russia.  The 
rapacious  Czarina  will  be  furious  when  she  hears  of  them. " 

"She  will  not  hear  of  them, "  said  Kaunitz,  quietly.  "I  have 
made  it  a  stringent  condition  with  Osman  Pacha  that  the  treaty 
with  Turkey  shall  be  a  profound  secret.  The  Sultan  and  his  vizier 
have  pledged  their  word,  and  the  Mussvilman  may  always  be 
trusted.  We  will  only  make  the  treaty  public  in  case  of  a  war  with 
Russia." 

"  Whence  it  follows  that  as  Russia  is  much  more  likely  to  court 
our  friendship  than  our  enmity,  the  treaty  with  the  Porte  is  all 
moonshine." 

"  With  the  exception  of  the  ten  millions  of  piasters,  which  are 
terrene  and  tangible.  It  remains  now  to  see  whether  Turkey  will 
keep  silence  or  Russia  will  speak  !  In  either  case,  the  peace  of  all 
Europe  now  lies  in  Austria's  hands.  We  will  preserve  or  destroy 
it  as  is  most  advantageous  to  our  own  interests." 

At  that  moment  the  door  leading  to  the  anteroom  was  opened, 
and  a  page  announced  Prince  Gallitzin,  ambassador  of  her  majesty 
the  Empress  of  Russia. 

*  Dolim,  "  Memoirs  of  My  Time,"  vol.  i.,  p.  4~1. 


310  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

This  announcement  following  the  subjects  which  had  been  under 
discussion,  was  so  significant,  that  Kaunitz  could  not  conceal  his 
sense  of  its  supreme  importance.  He  was  slightly  disturbed ;  but 
recovering  himself  almost  instantaneously,  he  said  : 

"  In  five  minutes  I  will  receive  his  highness  in  this  room.  Now 
begone,  and  open  the  door  punctually." 

"What  can  the  Russian  minister  want  to-day?"  said  Binder. 

"  He  has  come  to  speak  at  last, "  replied  Kaunitz,  taking  breath. 

"Not  of  the  partition  of  Poland,  but  of  your  Turkish  ti'eaty. 
^ou  will  see  that  he  if  he  gain  any  thing  by  talking,  the  Porte  will 
jot  keep  silence. " 

"Three  minutes  gone,"  said  Kaunitz,  taking  out  his  watch. 
"  Not  another  word.  Binder.  Step  behind  that  screen  and  listen  to 
our  discussion.     It  will  save  me  the  trouble  of  repeating  it  to  you." 

While  Binder  was  concealing  hiniself,  Kaunitz  was  composing 
his  visage  before  a  looking-glass.  It  soon  reached  its  accustomed 
serenity,  and  not  a  lock  of  the  peruke  was  out  of  place. 

In  five  minutes  the  page  reopened  the  door  and  announced  the 
entrance  of  the  Russian  ambassador. 


CHAPTER    LXXVI. 

RUSSIA  SPEAKS. 

Prince  Kaunitz  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room  when  the  Rus- 
sian minister  made  his  appearance.  He  raised  his  cold  blue  eyes 
with  perfect  indifference  to  the  smiling  face  of  the  Russian,  who 
bowed  low,  while  his  host  vouchsafed  him  a  slight  inclination  of 
the  head.  Prince  Gallitzin  seemed  to  be  as  unconscious  of  this 
haughty  reception  as  of  the  fact  that  Kaunitz  had  not  moved  for- 
ward a  single  step  to  greet  him.  He  traversed  with  unruffled 
courtesy  the  distance  that  separated  him  from  Austria,  and  offered 
his  hand  with  the  grace  of  a  finished  courtier. 

Kaunitz  raised  his  languidly,  and  allowed  it  to  rest  for  a  moment 
in  the  palm  of  his  cordial  visitor. 

"See,  what  a  propitious  incident, "  said  Prince  Gallitzin  ;  "Aus- 
tria and  Russia  have  given  each  other  the  hand. " 

"Pardon  me,  your  highness,"  replied  Kaunitz  gravely,  "Russia 
has  offered  her  hand,  and  Austria  takes  it.  " 

"But  without  returning  my  coixlial  pressure,"  said  the  Russian. 

Prince  Kaunitz  appeared  not  to  hear  this  affectionate  reproach. 
He  pointed  to  the  arm-chairs  on  either  side  of  the  escritoire,  saying, 
•'  Let  us  be  seated. " 

Prince  Gallitzin  waited  until  Kaunitz  had  taken  his  seat,  which 
he  did  in  a  most  deliberate  manner,  then  he  took  the  cliair  opposite. 

"  Your  highness  has  been  so  good  as  to  look  over  the  new  propo- 
sals for  i)eace  which  Russia  has- offered  to  Turkey?"  asked  Prince 
Gallitzin. 

"I  iiavo  read  them,"  replied  Kaiinitz,  curtly. 

"  Your  liighness  will  then  have  remarked  that,  accommodating 
herself  to  the  wishes  of  Austria,  Russia  has  retained  only  such  of 
her  conditions  as  were  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  her  dignity 
before  the  world.  But  my  imi)erial  mistress  has  instructed  me  to 
say  explicitly  that  her  moderation  toward  Turkey  is  exclusively  the 


RUSSIA  SPEAKS.  311 

fruit  of  her  consideration  for  Austria.  But  for  this  consideration, 
Turkey  would  have  felt  the  full  weight  of  the  empress's  vengeance  ; 
and  it  might  have  come  to  pass  that  this  Porte,  who  already  totters 
with  his  own  weakness,  would  have  been  precipitated  by  Russia 
far  into  the  depths  of  the  Black  Sea. " 

"  In  that  case  Russia  would  have  learned  tJiat  Austra  is  a  diver 
that  knows  how  to  fish  for  pearls.  We  would  have  rescued  the  Porte 
from  the  Black  Sea,  and  if  he  had  not  been  strong  enough  to  sustain 
himself,  we  would  have  exacted  a  tonic  at  your  hands  in  the  form 
of  more  advantageous  conditions  of  peace. " 

•'  Then  our  conditions  are  not  satisfactoiy  ?" 

'■  They  are  of  such  a  nature  that  Austria  cannot  entertain  them 
for  a  moment.  Turkey  can  never  consent  to  the  independence  of 
the  Crimea  and  Wallachia,  nor  will  Austria  counsel  her  to  such  an 
indiscreet  concession.  This  would  be  so  contrary  to  the  interests  of 
Austria  that  we  would  oppose  it,  even  should  Turkey  be  forced  by 
untoward  circumstances  to  yield  the  point. " 

"Ah  !"  cried  Gallitzin,  laughing,  "Austria  would  find  herself  in 
the  singular  position  of  a  nation  wari'ing  with  another  to  force  that 
nation  to  take  care  of  its  own  interests.  Will  your  highness  then 
tell  me,  what  are  the  conditions  which  Austria  is  willing  to  accept 
for  Turkey?" 

"  They  are  these  :  that  the  right  of  the  Sultan  to  appoint  the  EHian 
of  the  Crimea  and  the  Hospodar  of  Wallachia  remain  untouched.  If 
Russia  will  recognize  the  sovereignty  of  the  Porte  in  that  quarter, 
then  Austria  will  induce  him  to  withdraw  his  pretensions  in 
Tartary. " 

"And  to  leave  to  Russia  the  territoiy  she  has  conquered  there?" 
asked  Gallitzin  with  his  ineffable  smile.  "  The  czarina  has  no  de- 
sire to  enlarge  her  vast  empire.  Russia  does  not  war  in  the  Crimea 
for  herself,  but  for  a  noble  race  of  men  who  feel  rich  and  powerful 
enough  to  elect  their  own  rulers.  Her  struggle  in  Tartary  is  simply 
that  of  civilization  and  freedom  against  barbarism  and  tyranny. " 

"How  beautiful  all  this  sounds  in  the  mouth  of  a  Russian  !"  said 
Kaunitz,  smiling.  "You  will  acknowledge  that  Russia  is  not 
always  consistent ;  for  instance — in  Poland,  where  she  does  not  per- 
ceive the  right  of  a.  noble  race  of  men  to  elect  their  own  rulers,  but 
forces  upon  them  a  king  whom  they  all  despise.  I  must  now  declare 
to  you  that  my  sovereign  will  enter  into  negotiations  with  Turkey 
on  one  condition  only  :  that  the  territorial  rights  of  Poland  be  left 
untouched,  not  only  by  Russia,  but  by  any  other  European  power."  * 

Prince  Gallitzin  stared  at  Kaunitz  as  he  heard  these  astounding 
Words  ;  but  the  Austrian  met  his  gaze  with  perfect  unconcern. 

"Your  highness  defends  the  integrity  of  Polish  territory,"  said 
Gallitzin,  after  a  short  pause,  "  and  yet  you  have  been  the  first  to 
invade  it.     Is  not  the  Zips  a  portion  of  the  kingdom  of  Poland?" 

"No,  your  highness,  no.     The  Zips  was  originally  a  Hungarian 

dependency,  and  was  mortgaged  to  Poland.     We  intend  to  resume 

our  property  and  pay  the  mortgage  in  the  usual  way.     This  is  not  at 

all  to  the  point.     We  speak  of  the  fate  of  Poland.     As  for  Austria, 

she  aims  at  nothing  but  her  rights  ;   and  as  soon  as  the  Empress  of 

Russia  withdraws  her  troops  from  Polish  ground,  we  will  withdraw 

ours,  as  well  as  all  pretensions  whatever  to  the  smallest  portion  of 

Polish  territory. " 

♦  V.  Dohm,  "Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  p.  492. 
21 


313  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"And  doubtless  yonr  higlmess  intends  to  restore  every  thing  for 
whicli  the  Poles  are  now  contending.  Her  ancient  constitution,  for 
instance  ;  that  constitution  which  has  been  thrown  upon  the  politi- 
cal system  of  Europe  like  the  apple  of  Eris,  threatening  discord  and 
conflict  without  end." 

"  No, "  said  Kaunitz,  quickly,  "  their  constitution  must  be  modi- 
fied as  the  intei'ests  of  their  neighbors  may  require.  We  must  unite 
on  some  modifications  that  are  suitable  to  us,  and  if  Poland  refuse 
to  accept  them,  she  must  be  forced  to  do  it." 

"Ah!"  cried  Gallitzin,  much  relieved,  "if  your  highness  is  of 
this  mind  we  will  soon  understand  one  another  ;  and  I  may,  there- 
fore, be  permitted  to  speak  with  perfect  frankness  on  the  part  of 
Russia." 

"At  last!"  exclaimed  Kaunitz,  taking  a  long  breath.  "Russia 
will  speak  at  last !  So  far  slie  has  only  acted,  and  I  confess  that  her 
actions  have  been  inexplicable." 

"  Russia  keeps  pace  with  Austria, "  said  Gallitzin.  "  The  court  of 
Vienna  says  that  the  integrity  of  Poland  must  be  respected  ;  never- 
theless she  is  the  first  to  lay  her  hand  upon  it." 

"Some  things  we  dare  not  do  because  they  seem  too  difficult — 
others  only  seem  to  be  difficult  because  we  dare  not  do  them.  We 
liave  taken  our  slice  of  Poland  because  it  belonged  to  us,  and  the 
difficulty  of  the  step  has  not  deterred  us." 

"  All,  your  highness,  as  regards  your  right  to  the  Zips,  there  is 
not  a  kingdom  in  Europe  that  has  not  some  old  forgotten  right  to 
her  neighbor's  territory  !  Russia  and — Prussia,  too,  have  similar 
claims  on  Poland,  so  that  if  it  be  agreeable  to  the  empress-queen 
and  to — yovu"  highness  we  will  meet  together  to  have  an  understand- 
ing on  tlie  subject.  Some  little  time  may  be  required  to  define  our 
several  claims,  but  this  once  settled,  there  will  be  no  further  diffi- 
culty in  the  way. " 

"I  see,"  said  Kaunitz,  with  a  satisfied  air,  "that  we  already  un- 
derstand one  another.  As  Russia  has  spoken  and  has  made  propo- 
sals, Austria  is  ready  to  respond.  But  before  we  attend  to  our  own 
affairs,  let  us  give  peace  to  Turkey.  The  court  of  Vienna  will 
negotiate  between  you.  Let  me  advise  you  to  be  exorbitant  in  your 
demands  ;  go  somewhat  bejond  your  real  intentions,  so  that  Austria 
may  be  oliliged  to  decline  your  proposals." 

"And  in  this  way  your  highness  proposes  to  bring  about  a  peace 
with  Turkey?"  asked  Prince  Gallitzin,  astounded. 

" Certainly  I  do.  Austria  declines  the  proposals;  Russia  moder- 
ates her  demands,  that  is,  she  concedes  what  she  never  intended  to 
exact,  and  presents  this  as  her  ultimatum.  Austria,  satisfied  with 
the  concessions  vow  offered  to  her  ally,  is  of  opinion  that  he  should 
accept  them  ;  and  if  he  prove  unreasonable,  must  force  him  to  do  it. " 

"Your  highness  is  indeed  a  great  statesman  !"  exclaimed  Gallit- 
zin, with  enthusiasm. 

"When  a  Russian  ambassador  says  so  it  must  be  true, "  replied 
Kaunitz,  bowing.  "As  to  Poland,  "the  great  question  there  is  to 
preserve  the  balance  of  power.  I  beg,  therefore,  that  Russia  and 
Prussia  will  make  known  at  once  the  extent  of  their  claims  there, 
that  Austria  may  shape  hers  accordingly.  I  shall  enter  at  once  into 
correspondence  with  the  King  of  Prussia,  to  ascertain  his  views  as 
to  the  future  boundaries  of  Poland.  Two  things  are  indispensable 
to  insure  the  success  of  this  affair." 


RUSSIA  SPEAKS.  313 

"What  are  they?" 

"  First :  perfect  frankness  between  the  three  powers  who  are  to 
act  as  one  ;  ami  celerity  of  action,  lest  Poland  should  be  quieted  be- 
fore we  come  in  with  our  remedy." 

"I  agree  with  you.     And  second?" 

"Second  :  profound  secrecy.  If  France  or  England  were  to  scent 
the  affair,  there  would  be  troublesome  intervention,  and  we  might 
all  be  disappointed.  Europe  must  not  learn  the  partition  of  Poland 
until  it  is  a, fait  accompli.'" 

"I  promise  discretion  both  for  Russia  and  Prussia,"  Scxid  Gallit- 
zin,  eagerly.  "  Europe  shall  not  hear  of  it  until  our  ti"oops  are  on 
the  spot  to  defend  us  from  outside  interference.  All  that  is  necessary 
now  is  to  find  three  e(j[ual  portions,  so  that  each  claimant  shall  be 
satisfied." 

"Oh,"  said  Kaunitz  carelessly,  as  he  played  with  the  lace  that 
edged  his  cuffs,  "  if  three  equal  parts  are  not  to  be  found  on  Polish 
ground,  we  can  trespass  upon  the  property  of  another  neighbor  who 
has  too  much  land  ;  and  if  he  resists,  we  can  very  soon  bring  him  to 
reason." 

Prince  Gallitzin  looked  with  visible  astonishment  at  the  cold  and 
calm  face  of  the  Austrian.  "Another  neighbor?"  echoed  he,  with 
embarrassment.  "  But  we  have  no  neighbor  unless  it  be  the  Porte 
himself. " 

"  Precisely  the  neighbor  to  whom  I  have  reference, "  said  Kaimitz, 
nodding  his  head.  "He  is  almost  as  troublesome  as  Poland,  and 
will  be  the  better  for  a  little  blood-letting.  I  authorize  your  highness 
to  lay  these  propositions  before  your  court,  and  I  await  the  answer." 

"  Oh  !"  cried  Gallitzin,  laughing,  while  he  arose  from  his  cliair, 
"  you  will  always  find  Russia  ready  for  a  surgical  operation  upon  the 
body  of  her  hereditary  enemy.  The  lav,-,  both  of  nature  and  of 
necessity,  impels  her  to  prey  upon  Turkey,  and  the  will  of  Peter  the 
Great  can  never  be  carried  out  until  the  foot  of  Russia  rests  upon 
the  Sultan's  throne  at  Stamboul." 

"  Well, "  said  Kaunitz,  when  Prince  Gallitzin  had  taken  his 
leave,  "did*you  understand  our  conference.  Binder?" 

"Understand!"  exclaimed  Binder,  coming  from  behind  the 
screen.  "No,  indeed!  I  must  have  been  drunk  or  dreaming.  I 
surely  did  not  hear  your  highness,  who,  not  an  hour  since,  con- 
cluded a  treaty  with  Turkey  by  which  the  independence  of  Poland 
was  to  be  guaranteed — I  surely  did  not  hear  you  agree  to  a  partition 
"between  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria  !" 

"Yes,  you  did.  We  are  driven  to  accept  our  share  of  Poland 
merely  by  way  of  decreasing  that  of  our  neighbors. " 

"Then  I  did  understand  as  regards  Poland.  But  I  must  have 
been  dreaming  when  I  thought  you  had  told  me  that  we  had  con- 
cluded a  treaty  with  the  Porte  by  which  he  pays  us  ten  millions  of 
piasters  for  our  good  offices  with  Russia. " 

"  Not  at  all.       I  certainly  told  you  so. " 

"Then,  dear  prince,  I  have  lost  my  senses,"  cried  Binder,  "for 
indeed  I  dreamed  that  you  had  proposed  to  Russia,  in  case  there  was 
not  land  enough  to  satisfy  you  all  in  Poland,  to  take  some  from  the 
Sultan. " 

"You  have  heard  aright.  You  are  very  tiresome  with  your 
questions  and  your  stupid,  wonder-stricken  face.  I  suppose  if  a 
piece  of  Poland  were  thrown  at  your  feet,  you  would  pick  it  up  and 


314  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

hand  it  over  to  Stanislaus  ;  f^d  if  the  Porte  stood  before  you  with 
a  million  of  piasters,  you  would  say,  'Not  for  the  world  !'  It  is  easy 
to  see  what  would  become  of  Austria  in  your  dainty  hands !  An 
enviable  position  she  would  hold,  if  conscience  were  to  guide  her 
policy  !" 

"No  danger  while  you  hold  the  reins,  for  there  will  never  be  a 
trace  of  conscience  in  your  policy, "  muttered  Binder,  gathering  up 
his  papers  and  passing  into  the  adjoining  room. 

Prince  Kaunitz  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  rang  his  bell. 

"My  new  state-coach,"  said  he  to  Hippolyte,  who,  instead  of 
flying  off  as  usual  to  obey,  remained  standing  at  the  door. 

"Why  do  you  stand  there?"  asked  the  Prince. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  highness,  the  state-coach  is  not  ready, "  stam- 
mered the  valet. 

"Not  yet  ready?"  repeated  the  prince,  accenting  each  word. 
"Did  I  not  order  it  to  be  here  at  two  o'clock?" 

"Yes,  your  highness,  but  the  upholsterer  could  not  understand 
the  drawings  which  were  given  him.  He  began  to  work  by  them, 
but  was  obliged  to  undo  his  work,  and  this  caused  the  delay. " 

"  The  man  has  the  assurance  to  say  that  he  could  not  work  after 
the  drawings  made  by  my  own  hand?"  asked  Kaunitz,  with  a  firey 
glance  of  anger  in  his  eyes.  "  Because  he  is  an  ass,  does  the  churl 
dare  to  criticise  viy  drawings?  Let  him  bring  the  body  of  the  coach 
to  the  palace,  and  I  will  show  him  that  he  is  a  bungler  and  knows 
nothing  of  his  trade. " 

And  the  prince,  in  his  rage,  stalked  to  the  door.  Suddenly  he 
stopped.     "What  is  the  state  of  the  thermometer  to-day?"  said  he. 

The  valet  flew  to  the  window  and  examined  the  little  thermome- 
ter that  hung  outside. 

"  Sixty  degrees,  your  highness. " 

"Sixty  degrees  !"  sighed  the  prince.  "Then  I  dare  not  go  to  the 
coach-house.     Is  the  coach  mounted  on  the  wheels?" 

"  No,  your  highness. " 

"Then  let  the  upholsterer  have  the  carriage  brought  to  my  room, 
with  the  drawings  and  his  tools.  Be  ofl: !  In  ten  minutes  all  must 
he  here !" 

Just  ten  minutes  later  the  door  opened,  and  in  came  a  handbar- 
rovv,  upon  which  stood  the  body  of  the  coach.  It  was  one  mass  of 
bronze,  plate-glass  mirrors,  and  gilding.  Behind  it  appeared  the 
upholsterer,  pale  with  fright,  carrying  on  one  arm  a  bundle  of  satin 
and  velvet,  and  in  his  right  hand  holding  the  drawings  of  the  prince. 

"Set  it  down  in  the  centre  of  the  room,"  said  Kaunitz,  imperi- 
ovisly,  and  then  turning  a  look  of  wrath  upon  the  unhappy  uphol- 
sterer, he  said,  with  terrible  emphasis:  "Is  it  ti'ue  that  you  have 
the  audacity  to  say  that  you  cannot  work  after  my  drawings?" 

"I  hope  your  highness  will  forgive  me,"  stammered  the  uphol- 
sterer, "  l)ut  there  is  not  room  in  the  inside  of  the  coach  for  all  the 
l)()ws  and  rosettes.  I  would  have  been  obliged  to  make  them  so 
small  that  the  coach  would  have  looked  like  one  of  the  patterns  we 
show  to  our  customers. " 

"And  you  dare  tell  me  that  to  my  face?  Do  you  suppose  that  I 
do  not  know  your  miserable  trade,  or  do  you  mean  that  it  is  easier 
to  govern  an  empire  than  to  trim  up  a  coach?  I  will  prove  to  you 
that  I  am  a  better  upliolstcrer  than  you  are.  Open  the  door,  and  I 
will  decorate  the  coach  myself. " 


THE  LAST  PETITION.  315 

The  upholsterer  opened  the  richly-gilded  glass  door,  and  Kaunitz, 
as  much  in  earnest  as  when  he  had  been  giving  and  taking  a  king- 
dom, entered  the  coach  and  seated  himself. 

"Give  me  the  satin  and  velvet,  and  hold  up  the  drawings,  that  I 
may  work  after  them.  Some  of  you  hand  me  the  nails,  and  some 
one  have  the  needle  ready.  You  shall  see  how  Prince  Kaunitz, 
through  the  stupidity  of  his  upholsterer,  is  obliged  to  decorate  the 
interior  of  his  own  coach. " 

The  prince  began  to  work  ;  and  in  the  same  room  where  he  had 
signed  treaties  and  received  ambassadors,  the  great  Austrian  states- 
man sewed  and  hammered  imtil  he  had  decorated  his  carriage  to  his 
own  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER    LXXVII. 

THE  LAST  PETITION. 

Maria  Theresa  paced  her  cabinet  in  visible  agitation.  Her  face 
was  sad  beyond  expression,  and  her  eyes  turned  anxiously  toward 
the  door. 

"  I  tremble, "  murmured  she  ;  "  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  mis- 
trust the  deed  I  am  about  to  do.  All  is  not  clear  in  the  depths  of 
my  conscience ;  the  voice  that  whispers  such  misgivings  to  my 
heart,  is  one  which  shames  the  worldly  wisdom  of  my  councillors. 
We  are  about  to  do  a  wicked  deed,  and  we  shall  answer  for  it  be- 
fore Heaven  !  Would  that  my  right  hand  had  lost  its  cunning,  ere 
ever  it  had  been  forced  to  sign  this  cruel  document !  Oh,  it  is  an 
unholy  thing,  this  alliance  with  an  unbelieving  king  and  a  dissolute 
empress!  And  an  alliance  for  what V  To  destroy  a  kingdom,  and 
to  rob  its  imhappy  people  of  their  nationality  forever  ! 

"  But  what  avails  remorse  V"  continued  she,  heaving  a  deep  sigh. 
"It  is  too  late,  too  late  !  In  a  few  moments  Joseph  will  be  here  to 
exact  my  signature,  and  I  dare  not  refuse  it.  I  have  yielded  my 
right  to  protest  against  this  crime,  and — ah,  he  conies !"  cried  the 
empress,  pressing  her  hands  upon  her  heart,  as  she  heard  the  lock  of 
the  door  turning. 

She  fell  into  an  arm-chair  and  ti'embled  violently.  But  it  was 
not  the  emperor  who  appeared  as  the  door  opened ;  it  was  the 
Baroness  von  Salmour,  governess  to  the  archduchesses. 

"  Baroness  !"  cried  the  empress,  "  it  must  be  something  of  most 
imminent  importance  that  brings  you  hither.     What  is  it?" 

"I  come  in  the  name  of  misfortune  to  ask  of  your  majesty  a 
favor, "  said  the  baroness,  earnestly. 

"Speak,  then,  and  speak  quickly." 

"  Will  your  majesty  grant  an  audience  to  my  unhappy  country- 
woman, the  Countess  Wielopolska?" 

"The  Countess  Anna  !"  said  the  empress,  with  a  shudder.  Then, 
as  if  ashamed  of  her  agitation,  she  added,  quickly. 

"  Admit  her.     If  the  emperor  comes,  let  him  enter  also. " 

The  baroness  courtesied  and  withdrew,  but  she  left  the  door 
open  ;  and  now  was  seen  advancing  the  tall  and  graceful  figure  of 
the  countess.  Her  face  was  pale  as  that  of  the  dead.  She  still  wore 
her  black  velvet  dress,  and  the  long  veil  which  fell  around  her  per- 
son, hovered  about  her  like  a  dark,  storm-heralding  cloud. 


316  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  She  looks  like  the  angel  of  death, "  murmured  the  empress.  "  It 
seems  to  me  that  if  those  pale,  transparent  hands,  whicli  she  folds 
over  her  breast,  were  to  unclasp,  her  icy  breath  would  still  the  beat- 
ings of  my  heart  forever  !" 

The  countess  glided  in  like  a  vision,  and  the  door  closed  behind 
her.     The  empress  received  her  with  an  affable  smile. 

"  It  is  very  long  since  I  have  seen  you, "  said  the  proud  Maria 
Theresa,  with  an  embarrassment  to  which  her  rank  had  hitherto 
made  her  a  stranger. 

'•  I  was  waiting  to  be  summoned  by  your  majesty, "  replied  the 
countess. 

"And  as  I  did  not  summon  you,  you  came  voluntarily.  That 
was  kind.     I  am  very  glad  to  see  you. " 

The  lady  replied  to  these  flattering  words  by  an  inclination  of 
the  head,  and  a  pause  ensued.  Each  one  seemed  waiting  for  the 
other  to  speak.  As  the  empress  perceived,  after  a  while,  that  the 
lips  of  the  pale  countess  did  not  move,  she  resolved  to  break  the 
irksome  silence  herself.  In  her  own  frank  way,  scorning  all  cir- 
cumlocution, she  went  at  once  to  the  subject  nearest  their  hearts. 

"  I  know  why  j'ou  are  here  to-day, "  said  she,  with  a  painful 
blush.  "  You  have  heard  of  the  fate  which  threatens  Poland,  and 
you  have  come  to  ask  if  thus  I  fulfil  the  promises  I  made  ^o  you  ! 
Speak— is  it  not  so?  Have  I  not  rightly  read  the  meaning  of  that 
lovely  but  joyless  faceV" 

"It  is  so,"  sighed  the  countess,  and  her  voice  trembled  with  un- 
shed tears.  "  Yes,  from  the  solitude  wherein  I  had  buried  my  grief 
since  last  I  saw  your  majesty,  I  have  heard  the  fatal  tidings  of  my 
country's  woe,  and  yet  I  live!  Oh,  why  should  the  body  survive, 
when  the  soul  is  dead  ?" 

Her  words  died  away  upon  her  lips,  and  she  seemed  to  grow 
paler  and  more  pale,  as  though  every  drop  of  blood  in  her  veins  had 
stiffened  and  turned  to  ice.  But  she  heaved  a  sigh  and  rallied,  for 
hope  now  touched  her  heart,  and  the  statue  awoke  to  life. 

"  Ah,  great  empress, "  said  she,  with  fervor,  "  I  come  to  you,  in 
whose  powerful  hand  lies  the  issue  of  my  country's  fate,  whose 
might}'  word  can  bid  us  live,  or  doom  us  to  death. " 

"  Oh,  were  it  so,  you  would  not  sue  in  vain  !"  cried  the  empress, 
sorrowfuU}'.  "Had  the  fate  of  Poland  lain  in  my  hands,  she  would 
have  risen  triumphant  from  the  arena,  where  she  has  battled  so 
bravely  for  her  sacred  rights  !" 

"Poland's  fate  lies  in  your  majesty's  hand!"  exclaimed  the 
countess,  vehemently.  "Yovi  have  not  yet  signed  the  warrant  for 
my  country's  execution  ;  you  are  still  innocent  of  her  blood  ;  your 
liand  is  still  free  from  participation  in  the  crime  of  her  enemies  and 
yours  !  Oh,  let  me  kiss  that  hard,  and  bless  it,  while  yet  it  is  spot- 
less and  pure  as  your  noble  heart. " 

Hurried  away  by  the  might  of  the  sorrow  that  overwhelmed  her, 
the  countess  darted  forward,  and  throwing  herself  at  the  feet  of  tlie 
empress,  drew  her  hand  fervently  to  lier  lips. 

"Rise,  dear  counte.ss  Anna,  rise,"  said  the  empress,  sootliingly. 
"  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you  at  my  feet,  Avhen  I  can  do  nothing  to 
avert  the  fate  of  Poland." 

"Who,  then,  can  help  her,  if  not  your  majesty?"  cried  the 
countess.  "Oh,  I  did  not  come  hitlier  to  reproacli  you  ;  I  came  but 
to  entreat  you  to  speak  the  word  that  will  disenthrall  my  country  !" 


THE  LAST  PETITION.  317 

"  I  cannot  do  it ;  as  God  hears  me,  I  cannot, "  repeated  Maria 
Theresa,  in  a  voice  of  anguish.  "  I  have  striven  against  it  witli  all 
my  might.  "Wliat  I  have  suffered  for  your  countiymen,  no  one  will 
ever  know  !  The  anxious  days  and  wretched  nights  that  I  have 
spent  for  their  sakes,  have  threatened  my  life.'"* 

"  I  CANNOT !"  echoed  the  countess,  who  seemed  to  have  heard 
nothing  but  these  few  words.  "  An  empress  ! — an  empress  !  who, 
witli  a  wave  of  her  liand,  sways  millions  of  men,  and  is  responsible 
for  her  actions  to  no  earthly  power  !" 

"Save  that  which  resides  in  the  claims  of  her  subjects  upon  the 
sovereign,  who  is  bound  to  reign  for  their  good.  I  am  responsible 
to  my  people  for  the  preservation  of  peace.  Too  much  blood  has 
been  shed  since  I  came  to  the  throne  ;  and  nothing  would  induce  me 
to  be  the  cause  that  the  soil  of  Austria  should  be  crimsoned  by 
another  drop. "  f 

"And  to  spare  a  drop  of  Austrian  blood,  your  majesty  will  deal 
the  blow  that  murders  a  whole  nation  !"  cried  the  countess,  rising  to 
her  feet  and  looking  defiance  at  the  empress.  "  In  your  egotism  for 
Austria,  you  turn  from  a  noble  nation  who  have  as  good  a  right  to 
freedom  as  your  own  people  !" 

"  Countess,  you  forget  yourself.  By  what  right  do  you  reprove 
me?" 

"By  the  right  which  misfortune  gives  to  truth,"  replied  she, 
proudly,  "and  by  the  right  which  your  imperial  word  has  given  me 
to  speak.  For  now  I  recall  to  you  that  promise,  and  I  ask  where  is 
the  eagle  that  was  to  swoop  down  upon  the  vultures  which  are  prey- 
ing upon  Poland?" 

"  Oh,  they  have  caged  the  eagle, "  said  the  empress,  sadly.  "  God 
in  heaven  knows  how  manfully  I  have  battled  for  Poland.  Wlien  I 
threatened  interference,  the  answer  was  this  :  'We  have  resolved  to 
dismember  Poland,  and  you  hall  not  prevent  us.'  What,  then, 
could  I  do?  Declare  war?  Tiiat  were  to  ruin  my  people.  Remain 
passive,  while  my  enemies  enlarged  their  frontiers,  so  as  to  endanger 
my  own?  We  then  had  recourse  to  stratagem.  We  defended  our 
soil  inch  by  inch,  and  gave  up  when  resistance  became  fanaticism. 
We  required  for  our  share  more  than  we  desired,  hoping  to  be 
refused.  But  no  I  To  my  sorrow  and  disappointment,  even  more 
was  apportioned  than  we  had  claimed.  Oh  !  the  whole  thing  has 
been  so  repugnant  to  my  sense  of  justice,  that  I  refused  to  take  any 
share  in  its  arrangements,  and  all  the  negotiations  have  been  con- 
ducted by  the  emperor.  Prince  Kaunitz,  and  Mar.shal  Lacy."  1;. 

"And  these  are  the  ashes  of  the  mighty  promises  of  emperors  and 
empresses  !"  exclaimed  the  countess,  bitterly.  "Oh,  empress,  think 
of  the  time  when  you  shall  appear  before  God,  to  give  account  of 
your  deeds  !  How  w411  you  answer,  when  the  record  of  this  day  is 
brought  before  you  ?  For  the  last  time  I  am  at  your  feet.  Oh,  as 
you  hope  for  mercy  above,  do  not  sign  the  act  that  dismembers 
Poland  !" 

She  was  again  on  her  knees,  her  beautiful  eyes  drowned  in  tears, 
and  her  hands  clasped  convulsively  above  her  head. 

"Oh,  my  God!"  exclaimed  the  empress,  rising  to  her  feet,  "she 

*  The  empress's  own  words.    See  Raumer,  "Contributions  to  Modem  History," 
voK  iv.,  p.  5.39. 

+  The  empress's  own  words.    See  Wolf,  "Austria  under  Blaria  Theresa,"'  p.  527. 
JThis  discourse  is  historical.    See  Wolf,  p.  5:^5.    Raumer,  vol.  iv.,  p.  540. 


318  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS  COURT. 

does  not  believe  me."     Then  bending  tenderly  over  the  countess,  she 
pressed  her  hands  between  her  own,  and  genth^  raised  her  to  a  seat. 

"  Do  you  not  see  how  deeply  I  suffer,  when  I  have  no  spirit  to 
chide  your  hard  words  to  me?  It  is  because  I  comprehend  your  sor- 
row, poor  child,  that  I  forgive  your  injustice.  And  now,  to  prove 
my  sinceritj","  added  she,  going  to  her  escritoire  and  taking  from  it 
a  letter,  "  read  this !  I  was  about  to  send  it  to  Prince  Kaunitz, 
when  your  visit  caused  me  to  forget  it.  Read  it  aloud,  that  I  may 
know  whether  you  understand  me  at  last." 

The  countess  unfolded  the  letter  and  read  : 

"When  my  own  empire  was  threatened,  and  I  knew  not  where  to 
lay  my  liead  ;  when  the  sorrows  of  childbirth  were  overtaking  me, 
I  threw  myself  upon  God  and  my  just  rights.  But  to-day,  when 
humanity,  justice,  ay — reason  itself,  cry  aloud  against  our  acts, 
I  confess  to  you  that  my  anxiety  transcends  all  that  I  have  ever 
suffered  in  my  life  before.  Tell  me.  Prince  Kaunitz,  have  you 
thought  of  the  evil  example  we  are  giving  to  the  nations  of  earth, 
when,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  acres  of  additional  territory,  we  cast 
away  our  reputation,  our  dignity,  and  our  honor? 

'■  If  I  yield  to-day,  it  is  because  I  struggle  alone,  and  no  longer 
have  the  vigor  of  mind  to  contend  for  right,  as  in  years  gone  by  I 
would  liave  done.  I  am  overjiowered,  but  I  surrender  with  a  bleed- 
ing heart. "  * 

The  countess  remained  looking  at  the  paper  for  a  time,  then  she 
raised  her  tearful  eyes  to  tlie  face  of  the  empress.  "  I  thank  your 
majesty,"  said  she,  deeply  moved,  "for  allowing  me  to  see  this 
letter.  It  will  remain  in  history  as  a  noble  monumtnt  of  Maria 
Theresa's  rectitude.  I  have  no  longer  a  word  of  blame  for  you  ;  and 
once  again,  in  love  and  reverence,  I  kiss  tliis  hand,  although  I  know 
that  to-day  it  must  sign  the  death-warrant  of  unhappy  Poland." 

She  drew  near,  and  raised  the  hand  of  the  empress  to  her  lips. 
But  Maria  Theresa  threw  her  arms  around  the  countess,  exclaiming  : 
"To  my  heart,  dear,  unhappy  one  !  I  cannot  save  Poland,  but  I  can 
weep  with  her  loveliest  and  noblest  daughter  !" 

The  countess,  overcome  by  this  unexpected  tenderness,  leaned 
upon  the  bosom  of  the  empress,  and  wept.  Maria  Theresa  stroked 
her  lustrous  black  hair,  and,  as  she  kissed  her  marble  cheek,  the 
tears  that  had  gathered  in  lier  eyes,  fell  upon  the  head  of  the  count- 
ess, where  they  glittered  like  stars  upon  the  darkness  of  the  night. 


CHAPTER    LXXVIII. 

FINIS  POLONI^. 

Neither  saw  the  door  open ;  but  both  heard  a  soft,  melodiovis 
voice,  saying :  "  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  I  thought  you  were 
alone." 

The  countess  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 

"Do  not  fear,"  said  the  empress,  as  she  gently  withdrew  her 
arms,  "  it  is  my  son  the  emperor.  We  need  not  hide  our  tears  fi-om 
him,  for  he  knows  that  this  is  not  the  first  time  his  mother  has 
wept  for  Poland." 

*  This  letter  was  written  by  Maria  Theresa's  own  hand.    See  Horraayer,  "  Pocket 
History  of  Our  Native  Land,"  1831,  p.  66. 


FINIS  POLONI^.  319 

The  emperor  said  nothing ;  he  stood  staring  at  the  pale  and  trem- 
bling Anna.  He,  too,  grew  deathly  pale  as  he  looked,  and  now  his 
trembling  limbs  answered  to  the  agitation  that  was  overpowering 
her.  Suddenly,  as  though  awaking  from  a  painful  dream,  he  ap- 
proached, and  offering  his  hand,  said  : 

"  I  rejoice  to  see  you.    I  have  long  sought  you  in  vain. " 

She  did  not  appear  to  see  him.  Her  arm  hung  listlessly  at  her 
side,  while  her  figure  swayed  to  and  fro  like  a  storm-tossed  lily. 

"  I  have  not  been  in  Vienna, "  answered  she,  in  a  voice  scarcely 
audible.     "  I  had  gone  to  bury  my  sorrow  in  solitude. " 

"  But  her  love  for  Poland  brought  her  hither, "  said  the  empress, 
putting  her  arm  affectionately  around  the  countess's  waist. 

"I  believe  you,"  returned  Joseph,  bitterly.  "The  fate  of  Poland 
is  the  only  thing  worthy  of  touching  the  Countess  Wielopolska. 
She  is  not  a  woman,  she  is  a  Pole — nothing  more. " 

One  low  wail  struggled  from  the  depths  of  her  breaking  heart, 
but  she  spoke  not  a  word. 

The  emperor  went  on :  "  The  Countess  Wielopolska  is  not  a 
woman.  She  is  a  monad,  representing  patriotism  ;  and  he  who  can- 
not think  as  she  does,  is  a  criminal  unworthy  of  her  regard. " 

"  You  are  cruel,  my  son,"  said  the  empress,  deprecatingly.  "If 
the  countess  has  been  bitter  in  her  reproaches  to  you,  we  must  re- 
member her  grief  and  her  right  to  reproach  us.  We  should  be  gentle 
with  misfortune — above  all,  w-hen  we  can  bring  no  relief. " 

"  Let  him  go  on,  your  maje.sty, "  murmured  the  wretched  Anna, 
while  her  eyes  were  raised  with  a  look  of  supreme  agony  upon  the 
stern  face  of  the  emperor. 

"Your  majesty  is  right.  I  am  nothing  but  a.  Pole,  and  I  will 
die  with  my  fatherland.  Your  hands  shall  close  our  coffin-lids,  for 
our  fates  will  not  cost  you  a  tear.  The  dear,  noble  empress  has  wept 
for  us  both,  and  the  remembrance  of  her  sympathy  and  of  j'our 
cruelty  we  will  carry  with  us  to  the  grave." 

The  emperor's  eyes  flashed  angrily,  and  he  was  about  to  retort, 
but  he  controlled  himself  and  approached  the  empress. 

"Your  majesty  will  pardon  me  if  I  interrujit  your  interesting 
conversation,  but  state  affairs  are  peremptory,  and  supersede  all 
other  considerations.  Your  majesty  has  commanded  my  presence 
that  I  might  sign  the  act  of  partition.  The  courier,  who  is  to  con- 
vey the  news  to  Berlin  and  St.  Petersburg,  is  ready  to  go.  Allow 
me  to  ask  if  your  majesty  has  signed?" 

The  countess,  who  understood  perfectly  that  the  emperor,  in 
passing  her  by,  to  treat  w^ith  his  mother  of  this  dreadful  act  of  par- 
tition, wished  to  force  her  to  retire,  withdrew  silently  to  the  door. 

But  the  empress,  hurt  that  her  son  should  have  been  so  unfeeling, 
went  forward,  and  led  her  back  to  her  seat. 

"No,  countess,  stay.  The  emperor  says  that  you  represent  Po- 
land. Then  let  him  justify  his  acts  to  us  both,  and  prove  that  what 
he  has  done  is  right.  I  have  suffered  such  anguish  of  mind  over 
the  partition  of  Poland,  that  Joseph  would  lift  a  load  from  my 
heart,  if  he  could  show  me  that  it  is  inevitable.  My  son,  you  have 
come  for  my  signature.  Before  God,  your  mother,  and  Poland  her- 
self, justify  our  deed,  and  I  will  sign  the  act." 

"Justify?  Thei*e  are  many  things  which  we  may  defend  with- 
out being  able  to  justify  them  ;  and  stem  necessity  often  forces  us 
to  the  use  of  measures  which  conscience  disapproves." 


320  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Prove  to  me,  then,  the  necessity  which  has  forced  us  to  dis- 
member a  country  whose  people  have  never  injured  us, "  said  the 
empress,  authoritatively. 

•'But  whose  disunion  at  home  has  become  dangerous  to  their 
neighbors.  Poland  lies  like  a  sick  man  in  our  midst,  whose  dying 
breath  infects  the  land.  When  there  is  a  fire  in  our  neighborhood, 
we  are  sometimes  obliged  to  tear  down  the  burning  house  lest  the 
Are  spread  to  our  own . " 

"  Yes, "  interrupted  the  countess,  "  but  you  do  not  rob  the  neigh- 
bor of  his  land.     The  soil  belongs  to  him  who  owns  the  house. " 

"  But  the  Poles  are  not  worthy  to  own  their  soil.  What  is  Po- 
land to-day?  A  race  of  slaves  and  peasants,  without  law  or  order, 
driven  hither  and  thither  by  a  lewd  and  corrupt  aristocracy,  wlio, 
instead  of  blushing  for  the  degeneracy  of  their  caste,  hold  their 
saturnalia  over  the  very  graves  of  their  noble  ancestors.  And  at  the 
head  of  this  degenerate  people  is  their  king,  the  minion  of  a  foreign 
court,  who  promulgates  the  laws  which  he  receives  from  his  im- 
perial Russian  mistress.  Verily,  God  has  weiglied  the  Polish  nation 
in  His  balance,  and  they  have  been  found  wanting. " 

"Enough!"  faltered  the  countess,  raising  her  hand  in  depreca- 
tion. "Why  will  you  vilify  a  people  who  are  in  the  throes  of 
death?" 

"  No,  it  is  not  enough, "  said  the  emperor,  sternly.  "  The  empress 
says  that  I  must  justify  the  acts  of  the  three  powers  to  Poland — that 
pale  and  beautiful  statue  before  me  wliich  lives — and  yet  is  not  a 
woman.  I  say  it  again  :  a  nation  dies  by  its  own  corruption  !  Po- 
land bears  within  herself  the  seeds  of  her  destruction.  Her  people 
have  been  false  to  their  antecedents,  false  to  themselves,  to  their 
honor,  and  even  to  their  faith. "  * 

"You  accuse,  but  you  bring  no  iwoofs  !"  exclaimed  the  countess, 
her  eyes  now  flashing  with  wounded  pride. 

"It  will  not  be  difficult  to  collect  my  proofs, "  said  the  emperor, 
sneering.  "  Look  at  what  takes  place  in  Poland,  since  your  coun- 
trymen have  foreseen  the  fate  of  their  fatherland.  What  are  the 
Polish  diet  doing  since  they  anticipate  the  close  of  their  sittings? 
Voting  themselves  pensions,  property,  and  every  conceivable  rev- 
enue, at  the  expense  of  the  republic,  and  giving  her,  with  their  own 
parricidal  hands,  tlie  coup  de  grace.  Such  shameless  corruption  has 
never  come  to  light  in  the  history  of  any  other  nation.  Freedom 
and  fatherland  are  in  every  mouth,  but,  in  realit}^  no  people  care 
less  for  either  than  do  the  Poles.  Slaves,  who,  while  they  hold  out 
their  hands  to  be  manacled,  are  striving  to  reign  over  other  slaves  !  f 
This  is  a  picture  of  the  Poland  whom  you  love,  and  through  her  own 
crimes  she  is  dying." 

"  It  is  not  true  !"  cried  the  indignant  countess.  "  She  dies  through 
the  covetousness  and  greed  of  her  neighbors.  It  is  they  who  have 
sown  dissension  in  Poland,  while  forcing  upon  her  unhappy  people 
a  king  who  is  nothing  but  the  despicable  tool  of  their  despicable 
intrigues. " 

"All  this  has  no  reference  to  Austria, "  objected  the  emperor. 
"We  had  nothing  to  do  witli  the  selection  of  the  king — nothing  to 
do  with  the  projects  of  dismemberment.  They  were  resolved  upon, 
with  or  without  our  sanction,  and  the  law  of  self-preservation  de- 

*  Wolf.     "Austria  under  Maria  Theresa,"  jj.  535. 
tltaumer,  "Conrributious,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  551. 


FINIS  POLONI^.  321 

mands  that  if  we  cannot  prevent,  we  must  endeavor  to  profit  by 
them.  I  know  that  the  partition  of  Poland  has  an  appearance  of 
gross  outrage  which  is  obvious  to  every  eye  ;  while  the  stringent 
necessity  which  has  driven  Austria  to  participate  in  it  is  known  to 
few.  I  confess  that  I  woidd  be  grieved  if  the  world  should  mis- 
judge me  on  this  question  ;  for  I  try,  both  in  public  and  private 
life,  to  be  an  honest  man  ;  and  I  believe  that  honesty  in  statesman- 
ship is  the  wisest  and  soundest  policy.*  We  could  not  do  otherwise 
than  we  have  done,  and  now,  with  the  full  conviction  of  the  ex- 
igency which  has  called  for  the  act,  I  repeat  my  question  to  your 
majesty,  have  you  signed  the  act,  or  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  sign 
it  now'?" 

The  empress  had  listened  with  profound  attention  to  her  son's 
discourse,  and  her  countenance,  which  before  had  been  pale  with 
anxiety,  had  assumed  an  expression  of  blended  serenity  and  resolu- 
tion. A  pavise  ensued.  Marble-white  and  speechless  the  countess, 
with  half-open  mouth,  started  and  bent  forward,  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  empress  ;  the  emperor,  stern  and  proud,  threw  back  his  head  and 
gazed  defiantly. 

In  the  midst  of  this  throbbing  silence,  Maria  Theresa  went  for- 
ward and  took  her  seat  at  the  encntoire.  She  dipped  her  pen  in  the 
silver  inkstand,  and  a  sob,  that  sounded  like  the  last  death-sigh, 
escaped  from  the  lips  of  the  countess.  The  empress  turned  quickly 
around  ;  but  the  glance  of  her  eye  was  resolute  and  her  hand  was  firm. 

She  bent  over  the  parchment  and  wrote  ;  then,  throwing  her  pen 
on  the  floor,  she  turned  to  the  emperor  and  pointed  with  her  right 
hand  to  the  deed.  "  PUic-et, "  cried  she,  with  her  clear,  ringing 
voice — ^''j)lacet,  since  so  many  great  and  wise  men  will  have  it  so. 
When  I  am  dead,  the  world  will  learn  what  came  of  this  violation 
of  all  that  man  holds  sacred.  "  f 

And  either  that  she  might  conceal  her  own  emotion,  or  avoid  an 
outburst  of  grief  from  the  countess,  the  empress  walked  hastily 
through  the  room,  and  shut  herself  up  in  her  dressing-room. 

The  countess  moaned,  and  murmuring,  ''Finis  Polonice!"  she, 
too,  attempted  to  cross  the  room. 

The  emperor  watched  her,  his  eyes  beaming  with  tenderness, 
his  heart  a  prey  to  violent  anguish.  As  she  reached  the  door,  he  saw 
her  reel  and  cling  to  a  column  for  support. 

With  one  bound  he  reached  her,  and  flinging  his  arms  around 
her  swaying  figure,  she  fell,  almost  unconscious,  upon  his  bosom. 
For  one  bewildering  moment  she  lay  there. 

''Finis  Polo)iicer'  murmured  she  again,  and,  drawing  herself 
up  to  her  full  height,  she  again  approached  the  door. 

"Farewell !"  said  she,  softlJ^ 

The  emperor  seized  her  hand.  "Anna, "said  he,  imploringly, 
"Anna,  do  we  part  thus?  Is  this  our  last  interview?  Shall  we 
never  meet  again?" 

She  turned,  and  all  the  love  that  she  had  struggled  to  conquer 
was  in  her  eyes  as  they  met  his.  "We  shall  meet  once  more," 
replied  she. 

"When?"  cried  Joseph,  frantic  with  grief. 

"When  the  hour  has  come  for  us  to  meet  again,  I  will  send  for 
you.     Promise  to  be  there  to  receive  my  last  farewell. " 

*  The  emperor's  own  words.    See  Raumer,  "  Contributions,"  &c.,  vol.  iv.,  p.  539. 
t  The  empress's  own  words. 


322  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  I  swear  to  be  there. " 
•     "Then,  farewell." 

"  Farewell,  beloved  Anna !     Oh,   let  me  touch  your  hand  once 
more !" 

"  No  !"  said  she,  harshly  ;  and,  opening  the  door,  she  disappeared, 
and  the  emperor  was  left  alone. 


CHAPTER    LXXIX. 

THE  MAD   COUNTESS. 

Count  Starhemberg  paced  his  splendid  drawing-room  in  a  state 
of  great  excitement.  Sometimes  he  murmured  broken  sentences, 
then  he  sighed  heavily,  and  again  he  seemed  to  be  a  prey  to  fear. 
Occasionally,  his  eyes  glanced  almost  reproachfully  toward  the 
figure  of  a  young  man,  who,  with  folded  arms  and  smiling  counte- 
nance, stood  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window  watching  the  old  man's 
agitation. 

As  the  clock  on  the  marble  mantel  struck  the  hour,  the  count 
stopped  before  his  young  visitor,  and  looked  searchingly  at  his  mild 
and  effeminate  face. 

"The  half  hour  has  elapsed,  Count  Esterhazy, "  said  he,  solemnly. 
"  I  have  told  you  frankly  that  my  niece,  although  a  beautiful  and 
perchance  a  good-hearted  woman,  has  a  temper  which  is  the  terror 
of  my  household.  She  inherits  this  misfortune  from  her  deceased 
father,  and,  unhappily,  her  lovely  and  amiable  mother  did  not  long 
survive  him.  There  has  been  no  one,  therefore,  to  control  her  ;  and 
her  terrible  temper  has  never  been  restrained.  Do  not  say  to  me 
that  1  might  have  conquered  it !  I  have  dedicated  my  whole  life  to 
her ;  and  lest  she  should  make  another  being  unhappy,  I  have  re- 
mained a  bachelor,  as  you  perceive.  But  I  had  made  a  solemn 
promise  to  her  parents  that  I  would  be  a  father  to  her,  and  I  have 
kept  my  promise.  It  is  not  my  fault  if  their  child  is  less  amiable 
than  other  women.  She  has  an  energetic  character,  and  I  fear  that 
if  she  marries,  she  will  find  means  to  tyrannize  over  her  husband. 
I  repeat  this  to  you,  count,  that  we  may  clearly  understand  each 
other ;  and  now  that  the  half  hour  has  gone  by,  do  you  still  urge 
your  suit?" 

"  Yes,  count,  I  do, "  replied  Esterhazy  in  a  soft,  treble  voice.  "  I 
repeat  to  you  the  offer  of  my  hand  to  the  Countess  Margaret 
Starhemberg. " 

The  count  bowed.  "I  have  done  my  duty,  and,  being  cleared  of 
all  responsibility  in  the  affair,  I  give  my  consent.  You  must  now 
tiy  to  win  hers." 

"  I  would  like  to  see  the  countess  in  your  presence, "  said  Ester- 
hazy, unmoved. 

Count  Starhemberg  rang  the  bell,  and  ordered  a  servant  to  bear  a 
request  to  his  niece  to  join  him  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  Tlie  countess  would  have  the  honor  of  joining  her  uncle  imme- 
diately, "  was  the  answer. 

"This  promises  well, "  said  the  old  count,  looking  relieved.  "  She 
generally  practises  her  music  at  this  hour ;  and  I  am  surprised 
that—" 

Just  then  the  sharp  tones  of  an  angry  female  voice  were  heard 


THE  MAD  COUNTESS.  323 

without,  then  the  jingling  of  glasses,  then  a  crash,  and  the  fall  of 
some  heavy  metallic  body. 

"  That  is  my  niece, "  said  the  old  man  with  a  shiver.  "  With 
that /aw/are  she  usually  announces  her  coming. " 

Now  the  door  was  flung  violently  open,  and  a  tall,  magnificent 
woman  dashed  into  the  room.  Her  features,  marvellously  chiselled 
as  those  of  the  antique  Venus,  would  have  been  irresistible  in 
beauty,  if  their  expression  had  corresponded  to  their  symmetry. 
But  in  her  large  black  eyes  glared  the  fire  of  ungoverned  passion, 
and  her  rosy  mouth  was  curled  with  contempt. 

Her  tall  figure  was  of  exquisite  proportions ;  and  her  arms, 
adorned  but  not  hidden  by  the  lace  which  fell  from  the  short  sleeves 
of  her  crimson  velvet  dress,  were  as  fair  and  beautiful  as  those  of 
the  Venus  of  Milo. 

Count  Esterhazy,  intoxicated  by  the  sight  of  her  wondrous 
beauty,  withdrew  abashed  behind  the  window -curtain,  while  the 
countess,  graceful  as  an  angry  leopardess,  bounded  through  the 
room,  and  stood  before  her  uncle. 

"Who  has  annoyed  you,  my  child?"  asked  he  timidly. 

"  He  is  an  idiot,  an  awkward  animal,  and  shall  be  driven  from 
the  house  with  the  lash !"  cried  she.  "Just  imagine,  uncle,  that 
as  I  was  coming  hither,  I  met  him  in  the  anteroom  with  a  plateau 
of  cups  and  glasses.  When  he  saw  me,  the  fool  fell  to  trembling  as 
if  he  had  seen  an  evil  spirit — the  plateau  shook  ;  and  my  dear 
mother's  last  gift,  the  goblet  from  which  she  had  cooled  her  dying 
lips,  fell  to  the  floor  and  was  broken. " 

Her  voice,  at  first  so  loud  and  angry,  was  now  soft  and  pathetic, 
and  her  eyes  glistened  with  tears.     She  shook  them  off  impatiently. 

"I  can  well  understand,  dear  child,  how  much  it  must  have 
grieved  you  to  lose  this  precious  relic, "  said  her  uncle,  soothingly. 

She  blushed  as  though  she  had  been  surprised  in  a  jfault. 

"  Oh,  it  was  not  that, "  said  she,  pettishly,  "  it  is  all  the  same  to 
me  whether  the  goblet  was  a  relic  or  not,  for  I  hate  sentiment. 
But  I  detest  such  an  awkward  fool.  He  never  could  carry  any  thing 
without  letting  it  fall. " 

"  Nay,  my  child,  he  has  often  carried  you  for  hours  in  his  arms, 
and  yet  he  never  let  you  fall. " 

"Uncle,  your  jests  are  insupportable,"  cried  she,  stamping  with 
her  little  satin -slippered  foot  vipon  the  carpet.  "You  excuse  this 
gray-headed  dunce  merely  to  vex  me,  and  to  remind  me  that  I  am 
an  orphan  without  a  home. " 

"  But  my  dear — " 

"Peace!  I  will  not  be  interrupted.  If  I  am  tyrannized  over  in 
every  other  way,  I  will  at  least  claim  the  right  to  speak — I  wish  to 
say  that  this  old  plague  shall  not  remain  here  another  day  to  torment 
my  life  with  his  nonsense.  This  time,  however,  I  made  him  feel 
the  weight  of  my  hand.     His  face  was  as  red  as  my  dress  after  it." 

"You  struck  my  faithful  old  Isidor?"  cried  the  count,  shocked. 

"Yes,  I  did,"  replied  she,  looking  defiantly  into  her  uncle's  mild 
face.  "I  beat  him  well,  and  then  I  threw  the  whole  waiter  of  cups 
and  glasses  upon  the  floor.  Have  you  any  fault  to  find  with  that, 
my  sympathizing  uncle?" 

"None,  none,"  said  the  old  man.  "If  it  gave  you  pleasure  to 
break  the  glasses,  we  will  go  out  and  buy  others. " 

"  We  !     No,  indeed,  we  shall  not.     Isidor  shall  pay  for  them  from 


324  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

his  wages.  It  was  his  fault  that  I  was  obliged  to  break  them,  and 
no  one  shall  suffer  for  it  except  himself.  I  claim  that  as  an  act  of 
bare  justice  to  myself. " 

"  But,  my  dear  countess — " 

She  stamped  her  foot  again.  "  Great  God  !  have  you  no  object  in 
life  except  that  of  contradicting  and  ill-treating  meV" 

The  count  sighed  and  approached  the  door.  She  heard  him,  and 
an  exulting  smile  lit  up  her  beautiful,  stormy  face. 

"Well,  as  you  will  not  tell  him,  I  shall  do  it  myself.  Yes — I 
shall  do  it  myself.  Do  you  hear,  uncle?  You  shall  not  say  a  word 
to  him. " 

"  I  will  say  nothing,  Margaret.  Will  you  now  allow  me  to  si^eak 
of  other  things?    Is  your  veliemence — " 

•'  Uncle  !" 

"  In  your  just  displeasure,  you  have  overlooked  the  fact  that  w^e 
are  not  alone. " 

He  pointed  to  the  window  where,  half  hidden  by  the  heavy  silk 
drapery,  stood  Count  Frank  Esterhazy.  The  countess  followed  her 
uncle's  glance'  and  as  she  became  aware  of  the  visitor's  presence, 
burst  into  a  merry  laugh. 

"  Do  not  be  frightened,  young  man,"  said  she  then;  "you  may 
come  out  from  your  corner.  I  am  not  a  cat,  and  I  don't  devour 
mice.  Ah,  you  have  heard  our  discussion?  What  a  pity  you  are 
not  a  dramatic  poet,  you  have  had  such  an  opportunity  for  depicting 
a  foolish  old  guardian  and  his  spirited  ward  !" 

"  Unfortunately,  I  am  not  a  poet, "  said  the  young  count,  coming 
forward  and  bowing  to  the  floor.  "  If  I  were,  I  could  write  to-day  a 
hundred  sonnets  to  the  eyes  of  the  majestic  Hera  whose  anger 
heightens  her  wonderful  beavxty. " 

"Uncle,"  said  the  countess,  suddenly  assvmiing  a  stately  and 
court-like  demeanor,  "be  so  good  as  to  pi-esent  me  this  young 
stranger,  who  pays  such  insipid  compliments." 

"My  dear  niece,  let  me  introduce  Count  Frank  Esterhazy,  a 
nobleman  just  returned  from  Italy,  who  is  in  high  favor  with  the 
empress. " 

"  Tlie  latter  is  no  recommendation,  uncle,  for  am  I  not  also  a 
favorite  with  the  empress?  Have  you  not  of  ten  told  me  so,  when 
the  empress  was  humbling  me  with  some  of  her  tyrannical  conde- 
scension?" 

"  Certainly,  my  child,  I  have  said  so. " 

"Then  you  see  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  estimable  for  one  to 
gain  the  empress's  good-will.  For  my  part,  I  wish  she  loved  me 
less,  for  then  slie  would  spare  me  some  of  the  long  sermons  with 
which  she  edifies  me,  when  I  happen  to  appear  at  court. " 

"That,  probably,  is  the  reason  you  appear  so  seldom,"  said  Count 
Esterhazy.     "  I  have  heard  your  absence  complained  of. " 

"  By  her  majesty  ?"  asked  Count  Starhemberg. 

"  No,  your  excellency,  by  the  emperor. " 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Dare  I  repeat  his  words?"  asked  Esterhazy,  appealing  to  the 
coimtess.  She  bowed  her  head,  and  leaned  against  the  back  of  an 
arm-chair. 

"  I  was  yesterday  at  the  em])ress's  reception.  The  emperor  was 
so  kind  as  to  do  the  honors  of  the  court  to  me.  He  pointed  out  the 
eeveval  beauties  of  Vienna,  who  were  all  strangers  to  me— 'But, ' 


THE  MAD  COUNTESS.  325 

said  he,  '  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  Austria  I  cannot  show  you, 
for  she'  is  not  here.  The  Countess  Margaret  von  Starhemberg  has 
the  beauty  of  Juno  and  Venus  united. '" 

The  countess  said  nothing  ;  she  stood  with  downcast  eyes.  Her 
cheek  had  paled,  and  her  lips  were  firmly  compressed  together. 
Suddenly  she  rallied  and  said,  with  a  careless  laugh  : 

"I  wager  that  the  empress  and  her  ladies  made  some  amiable 
commentary  on  the  emperor's  words.  Come,  tell  me,  what  said  the 
empress?" 

"If  you  command  me,  countess,  I  will  tell  you.  The  empress 
added, with  a  sigh,  'It  is  true,  she  is  as  beautiful  as  a  goddess,  but 
it  is  Eris  whom  she  resembles. '" 

"Very  witty  !"  exclaimed  the  countess,  with  a  sneer. 

"And  the  emperor?"  inquired  the  uncle. 

"  The  emperor  frowned  at  the  ladies,  who  began  to  laugh.  '  Your 
majesty  may  be  right, '  said  he,  '  but  Grecian  mythology  has  forgot- 
ten to  say  whether  the  fierce  goddess  was  ever  vanquished  by  love. 
Love  tames  the  most  turbulent  of  women. '" 

The  countess  uttered  a  sharp  cry,  and  caught  with  both  her  hands 
at  the  back  of  the  arm-chair.  Her  eyes  closed,  and  a  deadly  pale- 
ness overspread  her  countenance.  Her  uncle  hastened  to  put  his 
arm  around  her,  inquiring  tenderly,  "Dearest  child,  what  ails  you?" 

She  leaned  for  a  while  upon  his  shoulder  ;  then  raising  her  head 
while  deep  blushes  crimsoned  her  cheeks,  she  said,  haughtily:  "It 
is  nothing.  A  sudden  faintness  to  which  I  am  subject. "  With  an 
inclination  of  the  head  to  Count  Esterhazy,  she  continued  : 

•'You  will  be  so  good  as  not  to  mention  this  weakness  of  mine. 
It  is  purely  physical,  and  I  hope  to  conquer  it  in  time.  I  am  re- 
joiced to  think  that  I  have  verified  the  words  of  the  empress  and 
have  appeared  before  you  to-day  as  an  Eris.  I  suppose  you  came 
hither  to  see  me  out  of  curiosity." 

"  No,  Countess  Margaret,  the  purport  of  my  visit  was  any  thing 
but  curiosity.  I  come,  with  the  sanction  of  your  guardian,  to  offer 
you  my  hand. " 

The  black  eyes  of  the  countess  darted  fire  at  the  smiling  suitor. 

"  You  do  not  answer  me, "  said  he  blandly.  "  I  say  that  I  have 
won  the  consent  of  your  uncle,  and  respectfully  solicit  yours.  It 
shall  be  the  study  of  my  life  to  make  you  happy,  and,  perhaps,  at 
some  future  day,  my  untiring  devotion  may  win  a  return  of  my 
love.     Speak,  then,  countess  ;  say  that  you  will  be  my  wife." 

"Never,  never!"  cried  she,  stretching  forth  her  arms  as  though 
to  ward  away  some  threatening  evil.  "  I  shall  never  be  the  wife  of 
any  man.  I  was  not  made  for  marriage,  I  cannot  bow  my  will  be- 
fore that  of  any  other  fellow-mortal. " 

"  I  shall  not  require  you  to  do  so, "  replied  the  count,  as  though 
he  had  now  removed  every  objection.  "  You  will  be  in  my  house 
as  you  are  here,  absolute  mistress  of  all  things,  and  I  shall  claim 
nothing  but  the  right  of  being  your  humblest  and  most  devoted 
servant. " 

"Unhappily  for  you,  you  know  not  what  you  claim,"  exclaimed 
the  countess  angrily.  "Ask  my  uncle,  ask  his  household,  and  they 
will  tell  you  that  I  am  a  tyrant,  changing  my  will  twenty  times  an 
hour  ;  hating  to-day  the  thing  I  shall  love  to-morrow.  You  would 
aspire  to  be  my  husband,  would  you?  Have  you  no  friends  to  warn 
you  Qf  the  reefs  upon  which  you  are  running  that  poor  little  crazy 


326  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

bark  of  yours?  Why  the  very  people,  as  they  see  me  pass,  tell  of 
my  frantic  doings  ;  and  every  child  in  Vienna  knows  that  I  beat  my 
servants,  rage  about  my  uncle's  house  like  the  foul  fiend,  and  dash 
through  the  streets  on  horseback  like  the  Wild  Huntsman. " 

" '  Love  tames  the  wildest  hearts, '  so  says  the  emperor. " 

Margaret  started,  and  darted  a  fiery  glance  at  his  tranquil  face. 

"  But  I  do  not  love  you,  I  tell  you  ;  and  it  is  useless  to  say  another 
word  on  the  subject. " 

"  Nay, "  said  the  coimt,  taking  her  hand,  "  it  is  not  useless.  I 
beseech  you,  do  not  deny  my  sviit. " 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  a  servant  came  in  with  a 
golden  tray,  on  which  lay  a  letter. 

"From  her  majesty  the  empress,"  said  the  servant,  handing  it  to 
Count  Starhemberg.  The  count  took  the  letter  and  went  into  the 
embrasure  of  the  window,  while  the  servant  retired  noiselessly. 

"Countess  Margaret,"  said  Coimt  Esterhazy,  in  an  imploring 
voice,  "  once  more  I  entreat  you  to  accept  me  as  your  husband. " 

She  looked  at  him  with  withering  contempt.  "  Have  I  not  told 
you,"  cried  she,  passionately,  "that  I  do  not  love  you?  A  man  of 
honor  ceases  to  importune  a  woman  after  such  an  avowal." 

"  A  man  of  si^irit  never  gives  up  ;  he  perseveres,  in  the  hope  that, 
sooner  or  later,  he  will  reach  his  goal.  No  man  has  the  right  to 
expect  that  he  will  obtain  a  treasure  without  trouble. " 

"  Cant !  miserable  cant !"  And  the  great  glowing  eyes  that  were 
looking  with  such  scorn  at  the  slight  figure  of  the  count,  encountered 
their  own  image  in  the  glass  before  which  they  both  were  standing. 

"Look!"  cried  she,  pointing  to  the  mirror,  "yonder  reflection 
gives  its  answer  to  your  suit.  Do  you  see  that  tall  woman,  whose 
head  towers  above  the  blond  mannikin  that  stands  beside  her?  Look 
at  her  black  hair,  her  fiery  eyes,  and  resolute  bearing !  And  now 
look  at  the  little  fair-haired  puppet,  that  resembles  a  man  about  as 
mucli  as  do  the  statuettes  on  my  toilet-table.  Ah,  sir  covmt,  if  you 
were  the  woman  and  I  the  man  there  might  be  marriage  between 
us !  But  as  it  is,  you  would  die  of  my  violence,  or  I  of  your  in- 
sipidity.    So,  excuse  me. " 

She  jnade  a  deep  courtesy  and  turned  to  leave  the  room.  But  she 
felt  a  touch  upon  her  shoulder,  and  looking  back,  she  saw  her  uncle 
gazing  at  her  with  a  face  of  great  anxiety. 

"My  child,"  said  he,  in  a  faltering  voice,  "do  not  send  Count 
Esterhazy  so  rudely  away.  He  is  rich,  noble,  and  distinguished, 
and  in  eveiy  way  worthy  of  my  lovely  niece.  Do  not  refuse  him, 
Margaret. " 

"The  count  has  recovered  from  his  stupid  delusion,  uncle ;  I 
have  told  him  how  impossible  it  is  for  me  to  accept  his  hand. " 

"  But,  my  poor  cluld,  you  must  try  to  love  him.  You  dare  not 
reject  his  offer. " 

"  What !  /  dare  not  reject  whom  I  please  !"  cried  she,  in  a  voice 
shrill  with  passion. 

"No,  you  dare  not.  The  empress  commands  you  to  accept  the 
hand  of  Count  Esterhazy.  Here  is  the  note  I  have  at  this  moment 
received  from  her  majesty." 

Margaret  tore  the  ])aper  savagely  from  her  uncle's  hand.  With 
staring  eyes  she  read  its  contents,  while  her  whole  body  trembled 
violently,  and  her  lips  were  bloody  with  the  efforts  she  was  making 
to  suppress  a  scream. 


THE  BETROTHAL.  337 

At  last  she  gave  it  back.  "  Read  it, "  said  she,  hoarsely  ;  "  the 
letters  swim  before  my  eyes. " 

The  count  took  the  note  and  read  : 

"Dear  Count  Starhemberg:  It  is  my  desire  that  your  niece, 
the  Countess  Margaret,  shall  become  the  wife  of  some  honorable 
man.  In  this  way  she  may  hope  to  conquer  her  ungovernable 
temper,  and  become  a  reasonable  woman.  I  have  heard  that  Count 
Esterhazy  intends  to  become  her  suitor,  and  I  command  her  to  accept 
his  hand.  She  has  led  a  life  of  wild  independence,  and  it  is  time 
she  were  tamed  by  the  cares,  duties,  and  responsibilities  of  matri- 
mony. I  am  both  her  empress  and  godmother,  and  I  use  my  double 
right  for  her  good.  The  marriage  shall  take  place  in  one  week,  or 
she  goes  into  a  convent.     That  is  my  ultimatum. 

"  I  remain  yours  with  sentiments  of  esteem, 

"  Maria  Theresa,  " 


CHAPTER    LXXX. 

THE  BETROTHAL. 

A  LONG  pause  ensued  after  the  reading  of  the  letter.  The  countess 
stood  with  her  eyes  riveted  upon  her  uncle's  face,  as  though  she  were 
waiting  for  something  more.  The  young  count  watched  her  fur- 
tively, but  he  looked  determined. 

"You  see,  my  child,"  at  last  sighed  the  old  count,  "it  is  inevi- 
table.    The  empress  must  be  obeyed. " 

"No,  no  !"  screamed  the  wretched  girl,  awaking  from  her  stupor, 
"  I  will  not  be  the  wife  of  that  man." 

"Then  you  will  have  to  go  into  a  convent." 

"  No !"  cried  she,  her  face  suddenly  lighting  up  with  a  flash  of 
hope — "  no,  I  will  do  neither.  There  is  a  means  of  rescuing  me  from 
both. " 

She  turned  with  a  bewitching  smile  to  Count  Esterhazy,  and  in 
a  voice  whose  softness  was  music  to  his  ear,  she  addressed  him  : 

"In  your  hands  lies  the  power  to  rescue  me  from  a  forced  bridal. 
You  have  heard  that  despotic  note  from  the  empress.  Match- 
making is  a  monomania  with  Maria  Theresa  :  it  is  useless,  therefore, 
for  me  to  appeal  to  her,  for  on  a  question  of  marriage  she  is  inex- 
orable. But  you.  Count  Esterhazy, "  continued  she,  in  tones  of 
caressing  melody,  "you  will  rescue  me,  will  you  not?  I  cannot 
be  your  wife,  for  I  do  not  love  you  ;  I  cannot  go  into  a  convent,  for 
I  have  no  piety.  Go,  then,  to  the  empress,  and  tell  her  that  you  do 
not  wish  to  marry  me.  You,  at  least,  are  free.  Refuse  to  accept 
me  for  your  wife,  and  this  miserable  comedy  is  at  an  end." 

She  had  clasped  her  little  white  hands,  and  was  looking  implor- 
ingly in  his  face. 

The  young  man  shook  his  head.  "I  cannot  say  this  to  the  em- 
press," said  he,  quietly,  "for  it  is  she  who  sent  me  hitherto  woo 
you." 

"The  empress  sent  you  hither!"  cried  the  countess,  springing 
forward  like  a  lioness.  "You  came  not  as  a  free  suitor,  but  as  an 
obedient  slave  of  the  empress. " 

"  I  came  at  the  command  of  the  empress, "  said  the  young  man, 
mildly. 


828  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

The  countess  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"  That,  then,  was  the  glowing  love  which  you  were  describing 
just  now  ;  that  your  tender  wish  to  live  for  my  happiness  alone. 
Obedient  school-boy  !  You  were  told  to  come  and  ask  for  my  hand, 
and  you  came— for  fear  of  being  whipped  Oh  !  why  am  I  not  a 
man?  By  the  heaven  above!  no  woman  should  inflict  upon  me 
such  contumely  !" 

"  It  is  true, "  said  Count  Esterliazy,  taking  no  note  of  her  words, 
"  that  the  empress  ordered  me  hither.  But  since  I  have  seen  you, 
I  need  no  prompting  save  that  of  my  own  heart. " 

"  Peace,  fool !  nobody  believes  you.  You  had  consented  to  woo 
me,  in  obedience  to  your  despotic  sovereign.  But  you  have  seen 
me;  now  you  know  with  how  much  justice  I  am  called 'The  Mad 
Countess, '  and  now,  surely,  you  have  manliood  enough  to  reject  a 
termagant  like  me.  Go,  then,  and  tell  the  empress  that  I  was 
willing,  but  you  were  not — " 

"I  would  not  thus  belie  you,  lovely  Margaret." 

"What  do  I  care  whether  you  belie  me  or  not,  so  that  I  am  rid  of 
you?"  said  she,  contemptuously. 

"Submit,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  old  count,  with  tears  m  his 
eyes.  "  'Tis  the  first  time  in  your  life  that  you  have  been  thwarted, 
and  therefore  it  is  hard  for  you  to  succumb. "  ,      „  t 

" I  will  not  submit !"  cried  Margaret,  flinging  back  her  head.  i 
will  not  marrv  this  man.  Uncle,  dear  uucle,  leave  me  one  moment 
with  him.     I  have  something  to  say  that  he  alone  must  hear." 

The  count  withdrew  at  once  into  another  room. 

"  Now,  sir,  that  we  are  alone,  I  have  a  secret  to  reveal— to  God 
and  to  yourself.  Swear  by  the  memory  of  your  mother  that  you 
will  not  betray  me. " 

"  I  swear. "  ,       u  *    j  » 

She  bowed  her  head,  as  though  accepting  the  oath.  And  now, 
said  she,  faltering  and  blushing,  "  I  will  tell  you  why  I  can  never 
be  your  wife.  I—"  she  hesitated,  and  her  head  sank  upon  her 
bo.som,  while  she  stifled  a  sigh.  "I  love  another, "  whispered  she, 
almost  inarticulately.  "  Yes,  I  love  another.  I  love  him  with  every 
throb  of  my  heart,  with  all  the  strength  of  my  being.  My  every 
breath  is  a  prayer  for  him.  Every  wish,  hope,  and  longing  of  my 
Koul  points  to  him  alone.  I  would  die  to  give  him  one  hour  of  joy. 
Now,  that  I  have  made  this  avowal,  you  retract  your  suit,  do  you 
jiot?'  You  will  go  now  to  the  empress  and  say  that  you  will  not 
ticcept  me  for  your  wife.  You  give  me  my  freedom,  surely— you 
;!,ive  it  to  me  now."  .      . 

Count  Esterhazy  smiled  compassionately.  "Tins  is  a  table, 
countess,  whicli  you  have  invented  to  escape  me.  A  few  moments 
ago  you  said  that  you  would  never  love." 

"I  said  that  todisinc'line  you  to  marry  me." 

"I  do  not  believe  you,"  said  Esterhazy,  calmly.  "You  have 
invented  this  story  of  your  love  for  that  end  ;  but  it  is  a  falsehood, 
for  you  are  as  cold  as  an  icicle. " 

"Oh,  I  wish  that  I  were.  For  this  love  is  my  greatest  misfor- 
tune.    Look  at  me,  count.     Does  this  seem  like  dissimulation?" 

And  she  raised  u])  to  his  view  a  face,  scarlet  with  blushes,  and 
eyes  fdled  with  burning  tears.  . 

"No,  countess,"  said  Esterhazy,  after  contemplating  her  ear- 
nestly, "I  will  believe  tlie  tonus  tliat  glisten  in  your  speaking  eyes. 


THE  BETROTHAL.  329 

But  now,  answer  me  one  question.  Your  confidence  gives  me  the 
right  to  ask  it.     Is  your  love  returned?" 

Slie  remained  silent,  as  if  communing  with  herself,  while  every 
trace  of  color  vanished  from  her  cheeks. 

"No,"  said  she,  at  last,  with  quivering  lips.  "No,  he  does  not 
know  it ;  and  if  he  did,  he  could  not  offer  me  his  hand. " 

"Then,"  replied  Esterhazy,  coolly,  "your  love  is  no  impediment 
to  our  marriage.  Cherish  it,  if  you  choose  ;  raise  altars  to  this  un- 
known god,  and  deck  them  with  the  brightest  flowers  of  devotion. 
I  will  not  inquire  the  name  of  your  deity.  Your  secret  is  safe,  even 
from  myself.  I,  on  the  contrary,  have  never  loved.  My  heart 
stands  with  doors  and  windows  open,  ready  to  receive  its  mistress  ; 
and  as  the  empress  has  selected  you,  it  waits  joyfully  for  you  to 
take  possession. " 

The  countess  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  grasped  it  like  a 
vise. 

"You  will  not  recede  !"  said  she,  hoarsely.  "You  still  persist  in 
desiring  me  for  your  wife?" 

"  You  have  told  me  that  your  love  is  hopeless,  therefore  is  mine 
hopeful.     Perhaps  one  day  it  may  succeed  in  winning  yours. " 

"  But  you  do  not  love  me, "  shrieked  the  maddened  girl.  "  You 
are  here  by  command  of  the  empress. " 

"  And  the  Esterhazys  have  always  been  the  loyal  servants  of  the 
empress.  Whenever  she  commands,  they  obey — were  it  at  the  cost 
of  life  and  happiness.  Allow  me,  then,  to  persevere  in  my  obedience, 
not  only  to  her  desires,  but  to  my  own.  I  once  more  solicit  the 
honor  of  your  hand. " 

"Woe  to  you  if,  after  this,  I  yield  !"  cried  she,  with  threatening 
gesture.  "  I  have  stooped  to  entreat  you,  and  my  prayers  have  been 
vain.  I  have  withdrawn  the  womanly  veil  that  concealed  my 
heart's  cherished  secret,  and  you  have  not  renounced  your  unmanly 
suit.  I  said  that  I  did  not  love  you.  Look  at  me,  and  hear  me, 
while  I  vow  eternal  hatred,  should  I  be  forced  to  give  you  my  hand." 

"  There  is  but  one  step  from  hate  to  love.  Allow  me  to  hope  that 
you  will  think  better  of  it,  aud  take  that  step." 

A  fearful  cry  rang  from  her  lips,  her  eyes  glowed  like  bvirning 
coals,  and  she  raised  her  clinched  hand  as  though  she  had  hoped  it 
might  fell  him  to  the  earth.  But  suddenly  it  sank  helpless  to  her 
side,  and  she  looked  long  and  searchingly  into  Count  Esterhazy's 
face. 

A  long  silence  ensued.  "It  is  well,"  said  she,  at  length,  in 
clear,  shrill  tones.  "You  have  challenged  me  to  mortal  combat, 
and  it  may  be  that  you  will  win.  But,  oh,  believe  me  when  I  tell 
you  that  victory  will  bring  you  no  glory  !  Your  strength  is  not 
your  own  ;  it  lies  in  the  imperial  hand  of  Maria  Theresa.  I  swear 
to  you  that  if  I  become  your  wife,  my  whole  life  shall  be  consecrated 
to  hatred  and  revenge.  Count  Esterhazy,  I  hold  my  word  inviolate, 
whether  I  pledge  it  to  friend  or  foe  ;  and  when  the  blight  shall  fall 
upon  your  head  that  will  grow  out  of  this  hour  we  have  spent  to- 
gether, remember  that  had  you  been  a  man  of  honor  you  might  have 
spared  yourself  the  shame  !" 

Without  another  word  she  lifted  her  proud  head,  and,  with  a 
look  of  withering  scorn,  left  the  room. 

Count  Esterhazy's  eyes  followed  her  retreating  figure,  and  his 
placid  brow  grew  troubled.     "Beautiful  as  she  is,"  murmured  he, 


330  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  it  is  dangerous  to  woo  her.  She  has  the  beauty  of  Medusa.  My 
heart  positively  seems  to  petrify  under  her  glance.  I  would  be  more 
than  willing  to  renounce  the  honor  of  wedding  this  beautiful 
demon,  but  I  dare  not  refuse. " 

And  he  drew  out  his  delicate,  embroidered  handkerchief  to  wipe 
off  the  big  drops  of  sweat  that  stood  upon  his  forehead. 

"  WellV"  asked  Count  Starhemberg,  opening  the  door  and  putting 
through  his  head. 

"Pray  come  in, "  said  Esterhazy,  in  a  piteous  tone 

"  Ah,  my  niece  has  left !  Well,  I  suppose  that,  as  usual,  she  has 
conquered,  and  you  release  her?" 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  unhappy  manuikin  ;  "I  still  beg  for  the 
honor  of  her  hand.  The  empress  has  spoken,  and  I  have  only  to 
obey. " 


CHAPTEE    LXXXI. 

FRANZ   ANTONY   MESMER. 

For  some  weeks  great  excitement  had  existed  in  Vienna.  In  all 
assemblies,  coffee-houses,  and  restaurants,  in  the  streets  and  on  the 
public  places,  the  topic  of  conversation  had  been  the  wonderful 
cures  of  the  Suabian  j)hysician,  Mesmer.  These  cures  contravened 
all  past  experience,  and  set  at  naught  all  reason.  Mesmer  made  no 
use  of  decoction  or  electuary — he  prescribed  neither  baths  nor  cata- 
plasms ;  he  cured  his  jjatients  by  the  power  of  his  hand  and  the 
glance  of  his  large,  dark  eye.  He  breathed  upon  their  foreheads, 
and  forthwith  they  saw  visions  of  far-off  lands  ;  he  passed  the  tips 
of  his  fingers  over  their  faces,  and  pain  and  suffering  vanished  at 
his  touch.  No  wonder  that  physicians  denounced  him  as  a  char- 
latan, and  apothecaries  reviled  him  as  an  impostor. 

No  wonder  that  the  populace,  so  prone  to  believe  the  marvellous, 
had  faith  in  Mesmer,  and  reverenced  him  as  a  saint.  Why  should 
he  not  perform  miracles  with  his  hand,  as  did  Moses  with  a  rod, 
when  he  struck  the  rock?  Why  should  not  the  power  of  his  eye 
master  disease,  as  once  the  glance  of  the  Apostles  gave  speech  to  the 
dumb,  and  awakened  life  in  the  dead? 

Mesmer,  too,  was  an  apostle — the  apostle  of  a  new  faith.  He 
bade  suffering  humanity  turn  to  heaven  for  relief.  "The  reflection 
from  the  planets, "  said  he,  "and  the  rays  of  the  sun,  exercise  over 
the  human  system  a  magnetic  power.  The  great  remedy  for  disease 
lies  in  this  magnetic  power,  which  resides  in  iron  and  steel,  and 
which  has  its  highest  and  most  mysterious  development  in  man." 

The  people  believed,  and  sought  his  healing  hand.  He  mastered 
their  infirmities,  and  soothed  their  sufferings.  But  the  more  the 
world  honored  and  trusted  him,  the  more  bitter  grew  the  hatred  of 
the  faculty.  Each  day  brought  him  fresh  blessings  and  fresh  im- 
precations. The  physicians,  who,  in  Salzburg,  had  hurled  Paracel- 
sus from  a  rock,  dared  not  attempt  the  life  of  Mesmer ;  but  they 
persecuted  him  as  an  imjiostor,  and  proved,  by  learned  and  scientific 
deduction,  that  his  system  was  a  lying  absurdity. 

Those  who  affected  strength  of  mind,  and  refused  to  believe  any 
tiling  except  that  which  could  be  demonstrated  by  process  of  reason- 
ing, gave  in  their  adherence  to  the  indignant  physicians.     Those, 


THERESE  VON   PARADIES.  331 

on  the  contrary,  who  had  faith  in  the  mysteries  of  religion,  were 
disciples  of  Mesmer  ;  and  they  reverenced  him  as  a  prophet  sent  from 
heaven,  to  prove  tlie  supremacy  of  nature  over  knowledge. 

Mesmer 's  fame  had  reached  the  court,  and  the  empress  herself 
became  interested  in  his  extraordinary  achievements.  In  vain  Van 
Swieten  and  Stork  besought  her  to  silence  the  audacious  quack,  who 
was  ruining  a  great  profession.  She  shook  her  head,  and  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  feud. 

"  I  shall  wait  and  see, "  said  she.  "  His  system  is  harmless,  and 
I  shall  not  fetter  him.  One  thing  is  certain.  His  manipulations 
will  never  poison  anybody,  as  many  a  regular  physician's  prescrip- 
tion has  done,  and  he  shall  not  be  molested.  He  has  voluntarily 
Bought  an  ordeal  which  will  determine  his  position  before  the  world. 
If  he  cures  the  blinduess  of  my  little  protege,  Therese,  I  shall  give 
in  my  adherence  with  the  rest ;  for  he  who  restores  the  blind  to 
sight,  holds  his  skill  from  above. " 

This  young  girl  was  known  to  all  Vienna.  In  her  second  year, 
after  an  attack  of  .suppressed  measles,  she  had  become  blind,  and  all 
attempts  to  restore  her  sight  had  proved  unavailing.  But  if  sight 
had  been  denied  to  lier  eyes,  her  soul  was  lit  up  by  the  inspiration 
of  art.  When  Therese  sat  before  the  harpsichord  and  her  dexterous 
fingers  wandered  over  its  keys — when,  with  undisturbed  serenity, 
she  executed  the  most  difficult  music  that  could  be  written  for  the 
instrument,  no  one  who  saw  her  beautiful  eyes  could  have  surmised 
their  inutility.  Her  features  were  expressive,  and  those  sightless 
eyes  seemed  at  times  to  brighten  with  joy,  or  to  grow  dim  with 
sorrow.  Nevertheless,  Therese  von  Paradies  was  wholly  blind  ;  her 
eyes  were  merely  the  portals  of  her  soul — they  sent  forth  light,  but 
received  none  in  return. 


CHAPTER    LXXXII. 

THERESE  VON  PARADIES. 

Therese  von  Paradies  was  in  her  room ;  her  mother  stood 
near,  for,  with  the  assistance  of  a  maid,  she  had  just  completed  her 
daughter's  toilet.  Therese  was  elegantly  dressed,  and  she  seemed 
to  enjoy  her  splendor  although  she  was  not  permitted  to  see  it. 

"Say,  mother,"  said  she,  as  the  last  touch  had  been  given  to  her 
dress,  " of  what  material  is  my  gown?  It  feels  as  soft  as  a  young 
girl's  cheek. " 

"It  is  satin,  my  child." 

"Satin?     And  the  color?" 

"White." 

"White  !"  repeated  she,  softly.  "  The  color  without  color.  How 
strange  that  must  be !  I  shudder  when  I  think  that  I  shall  see  it 
before  long. " 

"Why  should  you  shudder?"  said  her  mother,  tenderly.  "You 
should  rejoice,  dear  child,  that  the  world,  with  all  its  beauties,  is 
about  to  become  known  to  you. " 

"I  do  not  know,"  replied  Therese,  thoughtfully.  "I  shall  enter 
upon  a  new  world  which  will  astonish  and  perchance  affright  me  by 
its  strangeness.     Now  I  know  you  all  in  my  heart,  but  when  I  see 


332  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

you  I  shall  no  lonp^er  recognize  you.     Oh,  mother,  wh}^  do  you  wish 
me  to  be  restored  to  sif!:ht?    I  am  very  happy  as  I  am. " 

"  Silly  child,  you  will  be  still  liappier  when  you  see.  It  is  absurd 
for  you  to  dread  an  event  which  will  add  a  hundredfold  to  your 
enjoyment  of  life." 

"  And  why  absurd,  dear  motlier  ?  Does  not  the  heart  of  the  bride, 
on  her  wedding-day,  beat  half  in  hope  and  half  in  fear?  And  is  not 
lier  soul  filled  with  sweet  apprehension?  I  am  a  bride — the  bride  of 
light — and  I  await  my  lover  to-day. " 

"Ah,  who  knows  if  light  will  come?"  sighed  the  mother. 

"It  will  come,  mother,"  said  Therese,  confidently.  "I  felt  it 
yesterday,  when,  for  a  moment,  Mesmer  removed  the  bandage  from 
my  eyes.  It  was  for  a  second,  bvit  I  sate,  and  what  I  saw  cvit  like  a 
sharp  sword  athwart  my  eyes,  and  I  fell,  almost  unconscious. " 

"That  was  a  ray  of  light — the  first  glance  of  your  bridegroom  !" 
cried  the  mother,  joyfully. 

"  Then  I  fear  that  I  shall  never  be  able  to  bear  his  presence, " 
replied  Therese,  sadly.  "  But  tell  me,  mother,  am  I  dressed  as  be- 
comes a  bride?" 

"Yes,  Tlierese,  you  are  beautifully  dressed  ;  for  to-day  we  receive 
a  throng  of  distinguished  guests.  The  empress  herself  has  sent  one 
of  her  lords  in  waiting,  to  bear  her  the  tidings  of  your  restoration 
to  sight.  The  two  great  doctors.  Van  Swieten  and  Stork,  will  be 
here  to  see  the  marvel ;  and  princes  and  princesses,  lords  and  ladies, 
ministers  and  generals,  will  be  around  you." 

"How  is  my  hair  dressed?" 

"It  is  dressed  as  you  like  it,  d  la  3Iatignon.  Pepi  has  built  a 
tower  upon  your  head  at  least  three  quarters  of  an  ell  high,  and 
above  that  is  a  blue  rosette,  with  long  ends." 

"  It  is  indeed  very  high, "  replied  Tlierese,  laughing,  "  for  I  can- 
not reach  it  with  my  hands.  But  I  have  another  question  to  ask, 
dear  mother.     Promise  me  that  it  shall  be  frankly  answered. " 

"I  promise." 

"Well,  then,  tell  me,  is  my  appearance  pleasing?  Hitherto 
every  one  has  been  kind  to  me  because  of  my  misfortune  ;  but  when 
I  stand  upon  equal  footing  with  other  women,  do  you  think  that  I 
am  pretty  enough  to  give  pleasure  to  my  friends?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  you  are  very  handsome, "  said  the  mother,  smiling 
lovingly  at  her  child's  simplicity.  "Your  figure  is  graceful,  your 
face  is  oval,  your  features  are  regular,  and  your  brow  is  high  and 
thouglitful.  When  the  light  of  day  shall  be  reflected  from  your 
large,  dark  eyes,  you  will  be  a  beautiful  woman,  my  daughter." 

"Thank  you,  dear  mother,  these  are  pleasant  tidings,"  said 
Tlierese,  ki.ssing  her. 

"I  must  leav(^  you,  dearest,"  said  her  mother,  softly  disengaging 
lierself  from  Theivse's  arms.  "I  have  my  own  toilet  to  make,  and 
some  preparations  for  our  guests.     I  will  send  the  maid." 

"No,  dear  motlier,  send  no  one.  I  need  silence  and  solitude.  I, 
too,  hav(^  [ireparations  to  make  for  the  heavenly  guest  that  visits 
me  to-day.     I  must  strengthen  my  soul  by  prayer. " 

She  accompanied  lier  motlier  to  the  door,  kissed  her  again,  and 
returning,  seated  herself  at  the  liarpsichord.  And  now  from  its  keys 
came  forth  sounds  of  mirtli  and  melancholy,  of  love  and  complaint, 
of  i)rayers  and  tears.  At  one  time  she  intoned  a  hj-niu  of  joy  ;  then 
came  stealing  over  the  air  a  melody  that  brought  tears  to  tlie  eyes  of 


THERESE   VON  PARADIES.  333 

the  musician  ;  then  it  changed  and  swelled  into  a  torrent  of  gushing 
harmony. 

Suddenly  she  paused,  a  tremor  ran  through  her  frame,  and  a 
blush  slowly  mantled  her  cheek.  Her  hands  fell,  and  her  bosom 
heaved.  As  if  drawn  by  some  invisible  power,  she  rose  from  her 
instrument  and  went  toward  the  door.  In  the  centre  of  the  room 
she  stopped  and  pressed  her  hands  upon  her  heart. 

"  He  comes, "  murmured  she,  with  a  smile  of  ecstasy,  "  he  mounts 
the  staircase,  now  he  is  in  the  corridor,  his  hand  is  upon  the  door. " 

Yes  ;  the  door  opened  so  softly  that  the  acutest  ear  could  not  have 
detected  a  sound.  But  Therese  felt  it,  and  she  would  have  gone  for- 
ward, but  her  feet  were  paralyzed,  and  she  remained  with  out- 
stretched arms.  With  her  heart  she  had  seen  him  who  now  appeared 
upon  the  threshold.  The  person,  whose  coming  had  so  agitated  the 
young  girl,  was  a  man  of  scarcely  forty  years,  of  a  lofty  imposing 
carriage,  and  of  prepossessing  features.  His  large,  blue  eyes  rested 
upon  Therese  with  a  glance  of  power,  which  thrilled  through  every 
fibre  of  her  being.  He  held  out  his  right  arm  toward  her;  then 
slowly  lowering  it,  he  pointed  to  the  floor.  Therese  followed  its 
motion  and  sank  on  her  knees.  A  triumphant  smile  beamed  over 
Mesmer's  face,  and  he  raised  his  hand  again.  The  girl  arose,  and 
as  though  she  had  seen  him  open  his  arms,  she  darted  forward  and 
laid  her  head  upon  his  breast. 

"Mesmer,  my  friend,  my  physician, "  whispered  she,  softly. 

"Yes,  it  is  I,"  replied  Mesmer,  in  a  rich,  melodious  voice. 
"Your  heart  has  seen  me,  your  eyes  shall  see  me  too,  my  child." 

He  led  her  to  a  sofa  and  seated  her  gently  beside  him.  Then 
passing  his  outstretched  hand  before  her,  she  trembled. 

"You  are  very  much  excited  to-day,  Therese,"  said  he,  with  a 
slight  tone  of  disapprobation. 

"I  am  excited  because  you  are  so,  dear  friend,"  said  the  blind 
girl.     "  Your  eyes  dart  beams  that  threaten  to  consume  the  world. " 

"A  world  of  ignorance  and  of  wickedness, "  said  he,  in  reply. 
"Yes,  Therese,  I  will  consume  it  to-day,  and  in  its  stead  shall  arise 
a  supernatural  world  ;  yet  one  to  which  banished  Nature  shall 
return  and  claim  her  rights  to  man.  Oh,  will  I  have  strengh  to  say, 
'Let  there  be  light!'" 

"  Dear  friend,  if  you  doubt  the  result,  do  not  expose  yourself  to 
the  humiliation  of  failure.  I  am  satisfied  with  my  blindness,  for 
I  have  a  world  of  light  in  my  heart. " 

"No!"  cried  Mesmer,  with  energy,  "the  work  is  begun,  it  must 
be  completed.  You  viust  see,  Therese,  or  all  for  which  I  have 
striven  will  recoil  upon  my  head,  and  bury  me  beneath  its  ruins. 
This  day  decides  not  only  your  fate,  poor  child,  but  mine.  To-day 
must  Mesmer  prove  to  the  world  that  the  animal  magnetism,  which 
physicans  deride  as  a  quackery,  savans  deny  as  impracticable,  and 
the  people  ignorantly  worship  as  sorcery,  is  a  golden  link  which 
binds  humanity  to  heaven.  To-day  you  shall  be  healed  by  the  mag- 
netic power  which  binds  you  to  me,  and  links  us  both  to  God." 

"  Heal  me  then,  dear  master !"  cried  the  girl,  inspired  by  his 
enthusiasm.  "Restore  me  to  sight,  and,  in  so  doing,  give  light  to 
those  who  cannot  see  your  Godlike  gift. " 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  gazed  earnestly  in  her 
face.     "You  have  faith  in  me  then,  Therese,  have  j'ou  not?" 

"  I  believe  in  you,  and  I  comprehend  you,  master.     I  know  that 


334  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

I  shall  see  ;  and  when  the  scales  fall  fi'om  my  eyes,  the  light  of  con- 
viction will  dawn  for  others.  They  will  then  comprehend  that 
there  is  a  power  in  Nature  sti'onger  than  the  craft  of  bare  human 
wisdom." 

"  Oh,  you  speak  my  very  thoughts,  dear  Therese, "  said  Mesmer, 
tenderly.  "You  see  into  my  mind,  and  its  perceptions  find  birth 
upon  your  lips.  Let  doctors  sneer,  and  learned  skeptics  disbelieve, 
but  the  day  will  come  when  all  must  acknowledge  that  magnetism 
is  truth,  and  all  human  wisdom  lies.  Physicians,  though,  will  he 
its  deadliest  enemies,  for  they  are  travellers,  who,  having  strayed 
from  the  right  path,  go  farther  and  farther  from  ti'uth,  because  they 
will  not  retrace  their  steps. "  * 

"But  you  will  show  them  the  path,  my  master,  and  the  world 
will  honor  you  above  other  men. " 

"If  ingratitude  do  not  blind  it  to  ti'uth.  It  is  hard  to  find  day- 
light in  the  labyrinth  of  established  faith.  I,  too,  have  wandered 
in  this  labyrinth,  but  in  all  my  divarications  I  sought  for  Truth. 
With  passionate  longing  I  called  her  to  my  help.  Far  removed 
from  tlie  hum  of  human  imbecility,  down  among  the  solitudes  of 
untrodden  forests  I  sought  her.  Here  I  was  face  to  face  with 
Nature,  and  listened  for  response  to  the  anxious  questionings  of  my 
restless  heart.  It  was  well  for  me  that  the  trees  were  the  only  wit- 
nesses of  my  agitation,  for  my  fellow-men,  had  they  met,  would 
have  chained  me  as  a  madman. " 

"  Not  I,  master.     I  would  have  understood  your  noble  strife. " 

Mesmer  pressed  her  hand  and  went  on  :  "  Every  occupation  be- 
came distasteful  to  me,  every  moment  dedicated  to  aught  else 
seemed  to  be  treason  to  truth.  I  regretted  the  time  which  it  cost 
me  to  translate  my  thoughts  into  words,  and  I  formed  the  singular 
resolution  of  keeping  silence.  For  three  months  I  reflected  without 
speaking  a  word.  At  the  end  of  this  time  a  new  faculty  unfolded 
itself  in  my  mind,  and  I  began  to  see  with  rapture  that  the  day  of 
truth  liad  dawned.  I  knew  that  henceforth  my  life  would  be  one 
long  struggle  against  preconceived  error  ;  but  this  did  not  affright 
me.  So  much  the  more  did  I  feel  the  obligation  resting  upon  me  to 
impart  to  my  fellow-beings  the  gifts  I  had  received.  I  have  suf- 
fered much  from  their  prejudices  ;  but  most  fi-om  the  sneers  of 
envious  physicians,  Avho,  sooner  than  receive  a  light  from  other 
hands,  would  stumble  in  the  night  of  their  ignorance  forever,  f  But 
my  day  of  triumph  is  here.  You,  Therese,  are  the  evangelist  of  my 
new  faith,  and  your  restored  vision  shall  announce  it  to  the  world  !" 

"It  shall,  dear  master,  it  shall ;  and  against  tlieir  will  these  infi- 
dels shall  believe.  They  will  see  that  we  have  all  been  blind 
together — all  but  you,  who,  questioning  in  faith,  have  received  your 
answer  from  on  high.  Take  the  bandage  from  my  eyes  and  let  me 
see  tlie  light  of  day  !  I  tremble  no  longer  with  apprehension  of  its 
splendor !" 

Mesmer  held  her  back  as  she  raised  her  hands  to  her  head.  "  Not 
yet,  Tlierese.  Your  bandage  must  be  removed  in  the  presence  of 
my  enemies." 

"Whom  do  you  expect,  master?" 

"  I  have  told  you — I  expect  mj'  enemies.     Professor  Barth  will  be 

*  Mesmer's  own  words.    See  "  Franz  Anton  Mesmer,  of  Suabia,"  by  Dr.  Justinua 
Kerner.  p.  58. 

t  This  whole  conversation  is  in  Mesmer's  words.    See  Justinus  Kerner,  p.  GO. 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  LIGHT.  335 

there  to  sneer  at  the  charlatan  who,  by  an  invisible  power,  has 
healed  the  malady  which  his  couching  knife  would  have  sought  in 
vain  to  remove.  Doctor  Ingenhaus,  my  bitter  rival,  will  be  there, 
to  find  out  by  what  infernal  magic  the  charlatan  has  cured  hun- 
dreds of  patients  pronounced  by  him  incurable.  Father  Hell  will 
be  there,  to  see  if  the  pi'esence  of  a  great  astronomer  will  not  affright 
the  charlatan.  Oh,  yes  ! — And  others  will  be  there — none  seeking 
knowledge,  but  all  hoping  to  see  me  discomfited. " 

"Do  not  call  yourself  so  often  by  that  unworthy  name, "said 
Therese  sorrowfully. 

"  Men  call  me  so  ;  I  may  as  well  accept  the  title. " 

"Perhaps  they  have  called  you  so  in  days  gone  by  ;  but  from  this 
day  they  will  call  you  'Master, '  and  will  crave  your  pardon  for  the 
obloquy  they  have  heaped  upon  your  noble  head. " 

"  How  little  you  know  of  the  world,  Therese  !  It  never  pardons 
those  who  convict  it  of  error ;  and  above  all  other  hatred  is  the 
hatred  that  mankind  feel  for  their  benefactors. " 

"Gracious  Heaven,  master,  if  this  is  the  world  which  is  to  open 
to  my  view,  in  mercy  leave  me  to  my  blindi^ess  !" 

She  stopped  suddenly,  and  sank  back  upon  the  cushion  of  the 
sofa.     Mesmer  raised  his  hands  and  passed  them  before  her  forehead. 

"You  are  too  much  excited.     Sleep  !" 

"  No,  no,  I  do  not  wish  to  sleep, "  murmured  she. 

"  I  command  you  to  sleep, "  repeated  Mesmer. 

Therese  heaved  a  sigh  ;  her  head  fell  farther  back,  and  her  audi- 
ble, regular  breathing  soon  proved  that  sleep  had  come  at  the  bidding 
of  her  master. 

Mesmer  bent  over  her,  and  began  his  manipulations.  He  ap- 
proached her  lips,  and  opening  her  mouth,  breathed  into  it.  She 
smiled  a  happy  smile.  He  then  raised  his  hands  and  touching  the 
crown  of  her  head  described  half-circles  in  the  air ;  then  stooping 
over  her,  he  again  inhaled  her  breath,  and  breathed  his  own  into 
her  mouth. 

The  door  opened,  and  the  mother  of  Therese  came  in. 

"  The  guests  are  here, "  said  she. 

Mesmer  inclined  his  head.     "  We  are  ready. " 

"  Ready  and  Therese  sleeps  so  soundly  ?" 

"I  will  awake  her  when  it  is  time.     Where  is  my  harmonicon?" 

"In  the  parlor,  where  you  ordered  it  to  be  placed." 

"  Let  us  go,  then,  and  thence  we  will  call  Therese. " 


CHAPTER     LXXXIII. 

THE    FIRST    DAY    OF    LIGHT. 

The  elite  of  Vienna  were  assembled  in  the  drawing-room  of  Herr 
von  Paradies.  The  aristocratic,  the  scientific,  and  the  artistic  world 
were  represented  ;  and  the  empress,  as  before  intimated,  had  sent 
her  messenger  to  take  notes  of  the  extraordinary  experiment  which 
was  that  day  to  be  tried  upon  the  person  of  her  young  pensioner. 
At  the  request  of  Mesmer,  some  of  the  lower  classes  were  there  also, 
for  it  was  his  desire  that  the  cottage  as  well  as  the  palace  should 
bear  testimony  to  the  triumph  of  animal  magnetism  over  the  preju- 
dices of  conventional  science. 


336  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

By  order  of  Mesmer,  the  room  had  been  darkened,  and  heavy 
green  curtains  hung  before  every  window.  Seats  were  arranged 
around  the  room,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  space  occupied  by  a 
couch,  some  chairs,  and  a  table  on  which  lay  a  box. 

Upon  this  box  the  eyes  of  the  spectators  were  riveted  ;  and  Pro- 
fessor Bartli  himself,  in  spite  of  his  arrogant  bearing,  felt  quite 
as  much  curiosity  as  his  neighbors,  to  see  its  contents. 

"  You  will  see,  Herr  Kollege, "  said  he  to  one  who  sat  beside  him, 
"you  will  see  that  he  merely  wishes  to  collect  this  brilliant  assem- 
blage in  order  to  perform  an  operation  in  their  presence,  and  so 
make  a  name  for  himself.  This  box  of  course  contains  the  instru- 
ments. Wait  and  watch  for  the  lancet  that  first  or  last  is  sure  to 
make  its  appearance. " 

"What  will  be  the  use  of  his  lancet,"  replied  Herr  Kollege, 
"when  there  is  nothing  upon  which  it  can  operate?  The  girl  is 
irretrievably  blind  ;  for  neither  knife  nor  lancet  can  restore  life  to 
the  deadened  optical  nerve. " 

"  If  he  attempts  to  use  the  lancet  in  my  presence, "  said  the  pro- 
fessor in  a  threatening  tone,  "I  will  prevent  him.  I  shall  watch 
him  closely,  and  woe  to  the  impostor  if  I  surprise  him  at  a 
trick !" 

"  The  box  does  not  contain  surgical  instruments, "  whispered  the 
astronomer  Hell.     "  I  know  what  he  has  in  there. " 
"What?"  asked  tlie  others  eagerly. 

"  A  planet,  my  friends.  You  know  he  is  given  to  meddling  with 
planets.  I  hope  it  is  one  unknown  to  science  ;  for  if  he  has  carried 
off  any  of  my  stars,  I  shall  have  him  arrested  for  robberv. " 

This  sally  caused  much  laughter,  which  was  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  Mesmer  with  Frau  von  Paradies.  Without  seeming  to 
observe  the  spectators  who  now  thronged  the  room,  Mesmer  ad- 
vanced to  the  table  where  lay  the  box.  His  face  was  pale,  but 
perfectly  resolute  ;  and  as  his  eyes  were  raised  to  meet  those  of  the 
guests,  eacli  one  felt  that  whatever  might  be  the  result,  in  the  soul 
of  tlie  operator  there  was  neither  doubt  nor  fear. 

Mesmer  opened  the  box.  A  breathless  silence  greeted  tliis  act. 
Every  whisper  was  hushed,  every  straining  glance  was  fixed  upon 
that  mysterious  coffer.  He  seated  himself  before  it,  and  Professor 
Barth  whispered,  "  Now  he  is  about  to  take  out  his  instruments. " 

But  he  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  music— music  so  exqui- 
site that  the  heart  of  the  learned  professor  himself  responded  to  its 
pathos.  It  swelled  and  swelled  until  it  penetrated  the  room  and 
filled  all  space  with  its  thrilling  notes.  All  present  felt  its  power, 
and  every  eye  was  fixed  upon  the  enchanter,  who  was  swaying  a 
multitude  as  thougli  their  emotions  had  been  his  slaves,  and  his 
music  the  voice  tliat  bade  them  live  or  die. 

"  Ah  !"  wliispered  the  astronomer,  "you  made  a  mistake  of  a  part 
of  speech.     The  man  has  not  instruments,  but  an  instrument." 

"True,"  replied  the  professor,  "and  your  planet  turns  out  to  be 
an  insignificant  harmonicon." 

"And  the  lancet, "  added  Ingenhaus,  "is  a  cork,  with  a  whale- 
bone handle. " 

Mesmer  played  on,  and  now  his  music  seemed  an  entreaty  to 
some  invisible  spirit  to  appear  and  reveal  itself  to  mortal  eyes.  At 
least,  so  it  sounded  to  tlic  ears  of  Iiis  listeners.  They  started — for 
resi)onsive  to  the  call,  a  tall  wliito  ligure,  whose  feet  seemed  scarcely 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  LIGHT.  337 

to  touch  the  floor,  glided  in  aud  stood  for  a  moment  irresohite. 
Mesmer  raised  his  hand  and  stretching  it  out  toward  her,  she  moved. 
Still  he  played  on,  and  nearer  and  nearer  she  came,  while  the  music 
^rew  louder  and  more  irresistible  in  its  pleadings. 

A  movement  was  perceptible  among  the  spectators.  Several 
ladies  had  fainted  ;  their  nerves  had  given  way  before  the  might  of 
that  wonderful  music*  But  no  one  felt  disjiosed  to  move  to  assist 
them,  for  all  were  absorbed  by  the  spell,  and  each  one  gazed  in 
speechless  expectation  upon  Mesmer  and  Therese. 

He  still  played  on,  but  he  threw  up  his  head,  and  his  large  eyes 
were  directed  toward  his  patient  with  a  look  of  authority.  She  felt 
the  glance  and  trembled.  Tlien  she  hastened  her  steps,  and  smilingly 
advanced  until  she  stood  close  beside  the  table.  He  pointed  to  the 
couch,  and  she  immediately  turned  toward   t  and  sat  down. 

"  This  is  well  gotten  up, "  said  Professor  Barth.  "  The  scene  must 
have  been  rehearsed  more  than  once. " 

"If  the  blind  are  to  be  restored  to  sight  by  harmonicons, "  whis- 
pered Doctor  Ingenhaus,  "  I  shall  throw  my  books  to  the  winds,  aud 
become  an  itinerant  musician. " 

"If  planets  are  to  be  brought  down  by  a  wave  of  the  hand,"  said 
Hell,  "I  will  break  all  my  telescoj^es,  and  offer  my  services  to 
Mesmer  as  an  amanuensis. " 

The  harmonicon  ceased,  and  the  censorious  professors  were  forced 
to  stop  their  cavilling. 

Mesmer  arose,  and,  approaching  Therese,  made  a  few  passes 
above  her  head. 

"My  eyes  burn  as  if  they  were  pierced  with  red-hot  daggers, " 
said  she,  with  an  expression  of  great  suffering. 

He  now  directed  the  tips  of  his  fingers  toward  her  eyes,  and 
touched  the  bandage. 

"  Remove  the  bandage,  and  see  !"  cried  he  in  a  loud  voice. 

Therese  tore  it  off,  and  pale  as  death  she  gazed  with  wonder  at 
the  "Master,"  who  stood  directly  in  front  of  her.  Pointing  to  him, 
she  said  with  an  expression  of  fear  and  dislike  : 

"  Is  that  a  man  which  stands  before  meV"  f 

Mesmer  bowed  his  head.  Therese  started  back,  exclaiming,  "It 
is  fearful !     But  where  is  Mesmer?    Show  me  Mesmer  !" 

"  I  am  he, "  said  Mesmer,  approaching  her. 

She  drew  back  and  looked  at  him  with  a  scrutinizing  expression. 
"Iliad  supposed  that  the  human  face  was  radiant  with  joy,"  said 
she,  " but  this  one  looks  like  incarnate  woe.  Are  all  mankind  sad? 
Where  is  my  mother?" 

Frau  von  Paradies  was  awaiting  her  daughter's  call ;  she  now 
came  forward,  her  face  beaming  with  love  and  joy.  But  Therese, 
instt^ad  of  meeting  her  with  equal  fervor,  shrank,  and  covered  her 
face  witli  her  hands. 

"  Therese,  my  daughter,  look  upon  me, "  said  the  mother. 

"It  is  her  voice,"  cried  Therese,  joyfully,  removing  her  hands. 
Frau  von  Paradies  stood  by,  smiling. 

"Is  this  my  mother?"  continued  she,  looking  up  into  her  face. 
"  Yes — it  must  be  so ;  those  tearful  eyes  are  full  of  love.  Oh, 
mother,  come  nearer,  aud  let  me  look  into  those  loving  eyes  !" 

*  It  frequently  happened  that  not  only  women,  but  men  also,  fainted,  when  Mes- 
mer playeil  on  the  Klass-harmonicon.    Justinus  Kernel",  p.  42. 
tThereses  own  words.    Justinus  Kerner,  p.  03. 


338  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT 

Her  mother  leaned  over  her,  but  agan  Therese  recoiled.  "  What 
a  frightful  thing  !"  said  she,  with  a  look  of  fear. 

"What,  Therese?    What  is  frightful?"  asked  her  mother. 

"  Look  at  your  mother,  Therese, "  said  Mesmer.  She  heard  the 
well-beloved  voice,  and  her  hands  fell  from  her  eyes. 

"  Now  tell  me,  what  disturbs  you, "  said  Frau  von  Paradies. 

Therese  raised  her  hand  and  pointed  to  her  mother's  nose.  "It 
is  that, "  said  she.     "  What  is  it?" 

"  It  is  my  nose  !"  exclaimed  her  mother,  laughing,  and  her  laugh 
was  echoed  throughout  the  room. 

"  This  nose  on  the  human  face  is  horrible, "  said  Therese.  "  It 
threatens  me  as  though  it  would  stab  my  eyes. "  * 

"I  will  show  you  the  figure  of  a  man  who  threatens,"  said  Mes- 
mer, assuming  an  angry  air,  clinching  his  fists,  and  advancing  a 
few  paces. 

Therese  fell  upon  her  knees  with  a  cry.  "You  will  kill  me!" 
exclaimed  she,  cowering  to  the  floor. 

The  spectators  were  thunderstruck.  Even  Professor  Earth  yielded 
to  the  overwhelming  evidence  of  his  senses. 

"By  Heaven,  it  is  no  deception  !"  exclaimed  he.     "She  sees  !" 

"  Since  Professor  Earth  is  convinced,  no  one  will  dare  dispute  the 
fact, "  observed  Mesmer,  loud  enough  to  be  overheard  by  the  professor. 

Earth  frowned,  and  pretended  not  to  hear.  He  already  repented 
of  what  he  had  said,  and  would  have  bought  back  his  own  words 
with  a  handful  of  ducats.  Eut  it  was  too  late.  Every  one  had 
lieard  him,  and  on  every  side  murnmrs  of  astonishment  and  of  ad- 
miration grew  into  distinct  applause. 

Meanwhile,  Therese  was  greeting  her  father  and  her  other  rela- 
tives. Eut  she,  who  had  always  been  so  affectionate,  was  now 
embarrassed  and  cold. 

"  I  knew  it, "  said  she,  sadly.  "  I  knew  that  the  gift  of  sight 
would  not  increase  my  happiness.  Imagination  had  drawn  yom- 
images,  and  I  loved  the  pictures  she  had  painted.  But  now  that  I 
see  you  with  the  eyes  of  flesh,  my  heart  recoils  from  participation 
in  the  sad  secrets  which  your  careworn  faces  reveal.  Ah,  I  believe 
that  love,  in  its  highest  sense,  is  known  to  the  blind  alone !  Eut 
where  is  Bello?  Let  me  see  my  dog,  the  faithful  companion  of  my 
days  of  dependence. " 

Bello  had  been  whining  at  the  door,  and  as  Frau  von  Paradies 
opened  it,  lie  bounded  to  his  mistress,  caressing  her  with  his  paws, 
and  licking  her  hands. 

Therese  bent  over  him,  and  the  dog  raised  his  eyes  to  hers.  She 
stroked  his  glossy,  black  coat,  and,  for  the  first  time  since  she  had 
recovered  her  sight,  she  smiled. 

"Tills  dog  is  more  pleasing  to  me  than  man,"  said  she,  commun- 
ing with  herself.  "There  is  triith  in  his  eyes,  and  his  face  does  not 
terrify  me,  like  those  of  my  own  race."  f 

"I  think  we  may  take  our  leave,"  growled  Professor  Earth,  "the 
comedy  is  over,  and  tlie  relations  and  friends  can  applaud  the  author 
and  the  actress.     I  don't  feel  it  my  duty  to  remain  for  that  purpose. " 

"Nor  I,"  added  Doctor  Ingenhaus,  as  he  prepared  to  accompany 
the  professor.  "My  head  is  in  a  whirl  with  the  antics  of  this 
devilish  doctor. " 

*  Tliese  are  the  e.vact  words  of  Therese.    Justinus  Kerner,  p.  68. 
t  Therese's  own  words.    Justiuiis  Kerner,  p.  03. 


THE  FIEST  DAY  OF  LIGHT.  339 

"  Take  me  with  you, "  said  Father  Hell.  "  I  must  go  and  look 
after  my  planets.     I'm  afraid  we  shall  miss  another  Pleiad." 

So  saying,  the  representatives  of  science  took  their  leave.  At  the 
door  they  met  Count  von  Langermann,  the  messenger  of  the  empress. 

"Ah,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "you  are  hastening  from  this  en- 
chanted spot  to  announce  its  wonders  to  the  world.  No  one  will 
venture  to  doubt,  when  such  learned  professors  have  seen  and  be- 
lieved. I  myself  am  on  my  way  to  apprise  the  empress  of  Mesmer's 
success. " 

"  Pray  inform  the  empress,  also,  that  we  have  seen  an  admirable 
comedy,  count,"  said  Barth,  with  a  sneer. 

"A  comedy!"  echoed  the  count.  "It  is  a  marvellous  reality. 
Yourself  confessed  it,  professor. " 

"A  careless  word,  prematurely  uttered,  is  not  to  be  accepted  as 
evidence, "  growled  Barth. 

"Such  astounding  things  demand  time  for  consideration.  They 
may  be  optical  delusions,"  added  Ingenhaus. 

"Ah,  gentlemen,  the  fact  is  a  stubborn  one,"  laughed  Count 
Langermann.  "  Therese  von  Paradies  has  recovered  her  sight  with- 
out coucbiug-knife  or  lancet,  and  I  shall  certainly  convey  the  news 
of  the  miracle  to  the  empress. " 

"What  shall  we  do?"  asked  the  astronomer  of  his  compeers,  as 
Count  Langermann  bowed  and  left  them. 

Professor  Barth  answered  nothing. 

"We  must  devise  something  to  prop  up  science,  or  she  will  fall 
upon  our  heads  and  crush  us  to  death, "  said  Ingenhaus. 

"What  are  we  to  do?"  repeated  Barth,  slowly,  as  after  an  em- 
bari'assing  silence,  the  three  had  walked  some  distance  together 
down  the  street.  "I  will  tell  you  what  we  must  do.  Treat  the 
whole  thing  as  a  farce,  and  maintain,  in  the  face  of  all  opposition, 
that  Therese  von  Paradies  is  still  blind. " 

"  But,  my  honored  friend,  vmhappily  for  us  all,  you  have  made 
this  impracticable  by  your  awkward  enthusiasm." 

"I  spoke  ironically,  and  the  ass  mistook  sarcasm  for  conviction." 

"Yes,  and  so  did  everybody  else,  "sighed  Hell.  "You  will  find 
it  difficult  to  convince  the  world  that  you  were  not  in  earnest." 

"  Perhaps  to-day  and  to-morrow  I  may  fail  to  convince  the  world, 
but  the  day  after  it  will  begin  to  reason  and  to  doubt.  If  we  do 
not  oppose  this  quack  with  a  strong  phalanx  of  learned  men,  we 
shall  be  sneered  at  for  our  previous  incredulity.  Now  I  adhere  to 
my  text.  Therese  von  Paradies  is  blind,  and  no  one  shall  prove  to 
me  that  she  can  see.  Come  to  my  study,  and  let  us  talk  this  pro- 
voking matter  over." 

Meanwhile,  Therese  was  receiving  the  congratulations  of  her 
friends.  She  gazed  at  their  unknown  faces  with  a  melancholy 
smile,  and  frowned  when  it  was  said  to  her,  "  This  is  the  friend 
whom  you  love  so  much" — "  This  is  the  relative  whose  society  has 
always  been  so  agreeable  to  you. " 

Then  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  said  they  were  weary.  "Let  me 
hear  your  voices,  and  so  accustom  myself  to  your  strange  counte- 
nances,"  said  she.  "Speak,  dear  friends  ;  I  would  rather  know  you 
with  the  heart  than  with  these  deceiving  eyes." 

Suddenly,  as  one  of  her  female  companions  came  up  to  greet 
her,  Therese  burst  into  a  merry  laugh.  "What  absurd  thing  is 
that  growing  out  of  your  head?"  asked  she. 


.no  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Why,  that  is  the  coijffure,  which  you  like  the  best,"  replied  her 
mother.     "  It  is  a  coiffure  a  la  Matignon. " 

Therese  raised  her  hands  to  her  own  head.  "  True,  the  very  same 
towering  absurdity.     I  never  wiil  wear  it  again,  mother." 

"It  is  very  fashionable,  and  you  will  become  accustomed  to  it." 

"  No,  I  shall  never  be  reconciled  to  such  a  caricature.  Now  that 
I  can  choose  for  myself,  I  shall  attend  less  to  fashion  than  to  fitness 
in  my  dress.  But  I  have  seen  mankind — let  me  see  nature  and 
heaven.     Mesmer,  may  I  look  upon  the  skies?" 

"Come,  my  child,  and  we  will  try  if  your  eyes  can  bear  the  full 
light  of  day, "  replied  Mesmer,  fondly,  and  taking  her  arm  he  led 
her  toward  the  window. 

But  Therese,  usually  so  firm  in  her  tread,  took  short,  uncertain 
steps,  and  seemed  afraid  to  advance. 

"Gracious  Heaven!"  exclaimed  she,  clinging  anxiously  to  Mes- 
mer, "  see  how  the  windows  come  toward  us  !  We  shall  be  crushed 
to  death !" 

"No,  Therese;  it  is  we  who  advance,  not  they.  You  will  soon 
acquire  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  optics,  and  learn  to 
calculate  distances  and  sizes  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us." 

"But  what  is  this?"  cried  she,  as  they  approached  the  tall  mirror 
that  was  placed  between  the  windows. 

"  That  is  a  mirror. " 

"  And  who  is  that  man  who  is  so  like  yourself  ?" 

"That  is  only  the  reflection  of  my  person  in  the  mirror." 

"And  who  is  that  ridiculous  being  with  the  coiffure  a  la 
Matignon  ?  " 

"  That  is  yourself. " 

"  I !"  exclaimed  she,  quickly  advancing  to  the  mirror.  But 
suddenly  she  retreated  in  alarm.  "Gracious  Heaven!  it  comes  so 
fast  that  it  will  throw  me  down."  Then  she  stopped  for  a  moment 
and  laughed.  "See,"  said  she,  "the  girl  is  as  cowardly  as  myself. 
The  farther  I  step  back  the  farther  she  retreats  also. " 

"All  this  is  an  optical  delusion,  Therese.  The  girl  is  nothing 
but  a  reflection,  a  picture  of  yourself  in  the  mirror." 

"True,  I  forgot.  You  told  me  that  just  now,"  replied  Therese, 
drawing  her  hand  wearily  across  her  forehead.  "Well,  let  me  con- 
template myself.  This,  then,  is  my  likeness,"  said  she,  musing. 
"  My  mother  was  mistaken.  This  face  is  not  handsome.  It  is  weary 
and  soulless.  Come,  master,  I  have  enough  of  it — let  me  see  the 
heavens. " 

"Wait  until  I  draw  the  cm-tain  to  see  whether  you  are  able  to 
bear  the  full  light  of  day." 

The  curtain  was  lifted,  and  Therese,  giving  a  scream,  hid  her 
eyes. 

"  Oh,  it  cuts  like  the  point  of  a  dagger  !"  cried  she. 

"I  thought  so  ;  you  will  liave  to  become  gradually  accustomed  to 
it.  You  shall  see  the  sky  this  evening.  But  now  you  must  suffer 
me  to  bind  up  your  eyes,  for  they  must  have  rest. "  * 

*  The  description  of  Therese's  impressions,  and  the  words  slie  used  upon  the  recov- 
ery of  her  sight,  are  iiotiniaKinary.  They  are  ail  cited  by  Justinus  Kerner,  and  were 
related  to  him  by  lier  own  f  atlier. 


DIPLOMATIC  STRATEGY.  341 


CHAPTER    LXXXIV. 

DIPLOMATIC  STRATEGY. 

The  Emperor  Joseph  was  in  his  cabinet,  engaged  in  looking  over 
the  letters  and  documents  of  the  day,  when  a  iiage  announced  his 
highness  Prince  Kaunitz.  Joseph  waved  his  hand  in  token  of  con- 
sent, and  when  the  prince  appeared  at  the  door,  rose  to  meet  him  as 
he  entered  the  room. 

"  It  must  be  business  of  state  that  brings  your  highness  to  my 
study  at  this  early  hour,"  said  the  emperor. 

"It  is  indeed,  sire,"  said  Kaunitz,  taking  the  chair  which 
Joseph  himself  had  just  placed  for  him. 

"  And  it  must  be  a  day  of  rejoicing  with  you,  prince,  for  I  see 
that  you  wear  every  order  with  which  you  liave  been  decorated  by 
every  court  in  Europe.     What  does  this  display  signify?" 

"It  signifies,  sire,  that  the  day  has  come,  which  I  have  awaited 
for  twenty  years,  the  day  for  whicli  I  have  sche«ied  and  toiled,  and 
which  for  me  shall  be  the  proudest  day  of  my  life.  I  go  out  to 
battle,  and  if  I  am  to  be  victorious,  your  majesty  must  come  to  my 
assistance. " 

"Is  it  a  duel  with  the  empress,  in  which  I  am  to  be  your  second? 
I  thank  you  for  the  honor,  but  you  know  that  I  have  no  influence 
with  my  lady  mother.  I  am  an  emperor  without  a  sceptre.  But 
tell  me,  Kaunitz,  what  is  the  cause  of  the  trouble?" 

"You  know  it,  sire,  and  I  have  come  to  prove  to  you  that  I  am  a 
man  of  my  word,  and  keep  my  promises." 

"I  do  not  remember  that  you  ever  promised  me  any  thing." 

"But  I  do.  I  remember  a  day  on  which  my  young  emperor 
came  to  me  to  complain  of  a  wrong  which  had  been  inflicted  upon 
him  at  court. " 

"Marianne!"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  with  a  sigh.  "Yes,  yes, 
the  day  on  which  I  lost  sight  of  her  forever. " 

"Yes,  sire.  The  emperor,  worthy  of  his  high  vocation,  relin- 
quished the  girl  who  had  found  favor  in  his  eyes,  and  for  this  sacri- 
fice I  promised  him  my  loyal  friendship.  Three  objects  formed  the 
ties  that  bound  us  together  on  that  day.  Does  your  majesty  re- 
member ?" 

"Yes.  You  promised  to  place  Austria  at  the  head  of  European 
aff"airs;  you  have  done  so.  You  promised  indemnity  for  Silesia; 
we  have  it  in  our  recent  acquisitions  in  Poland. " 

"  I  promised  also  to  crush  the  priesthood,  and  to  ruin  the  Jesuits, " 
cried  Kaunitz,  exultingly,  "and  I  am  here  to  fulfil  my  promise. 
The  hour  has  come  ;  for  I  am  on  my  way  to  obtain  the  consent  of 
the  empress  to  the  laanishment  of  the  Jesuits  from  Au.stria. " 

"You  never  will  obtain  it.  Attachment  to  the  Order  of  Jesus  is 
an  inheritance  with  the  house  of  Hapsburg  ;  and  my  mother  styles 
me  a  degenerate  son  because  I  do  not  participate  in  the  feeling." 

"We  will  find  means  to  alienate  the  empress,"  said  KaunitK, 
quietly.  "I  hope  so,  but  I  doubt  it.  Tell  me  what  I  am  to  do, 
and  I  am  ready  to  make  another  charge  against  them. " 

Prince  Kaunitz  opened  his  pocket-book,  and  took  thence  a  letter 
which  he  handed  to  the  emperor. 

"  Will  your  majesty  have  the  goodness  to  hand  this  to  the  em- 


342  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

press?  It  is  a  letter  from  Carlos  III.,  in  which  he  earnestly  requests 
his  illustrious  kinswoman  to  give  protection  no  longer  to  the 
Jesuits,  whom  he  has  driven  from  Spain." 

"Indeed?"  said  the  emperor,  smiling.  "If  that  is  all,  the  Span- 
ish ambassador  might  have  delivered  it  quite  as  well  as  I." 

"No,  sire,  that  is  not  all.  It  was  the  King  of  Spain's  request 
that  your  majesty  should  deliver  the  letter,  and  sustain  it  by  every 
argument  which  your  well-kncwn  enmity  to  the  Jesuits  might 
suggest. " 

"I  am  more  than  willing  to  undertake  it;  but  to-day,  as  ever, 
my  representations  to  the  empress  will  be  vain. " 

"Do  j^our  best,  sire,  and  I  will  come  to  your  relief  with  a  re- 
served force,  which  will  do  good  service.  Only  allow  me  to  request 
that  you  will  not  quit  the  empress  until  the  reserve  comes  up. " 

"Then  the  parts  we  are  to  play  are  distributed  and  learned  by 
heart?" 

"Just  so  ;  and  Heaven  be  propitious,  that  the  scenery  may  work 
well,  and  the  actors  may  know  their  cue  !" 

"We  have  accomplices,  then?" 

"  I  shall  be  accompanied  by  the  papal  nuncio,  and  if  your  majesty 
permits  me,  I  will  go  for  him  at  once.  In  lialf  an  hour  I  shall  come 
to  the  rescue. " 

"  Go,  then,  and  I  fly  to  the  empress, "  cried  Joseph,  with  exultation . 


CHAPTER    LXXXV. 

DOMINUS  AC   REDEMPTOR  NOSTER. 

True  to  their  agreement,  the  emperor  sought  an  interview  with 
his  mother.  Not  enjoying,  like  her  prime  minister,  the  privilege  of 
entering  tlie  empress's  presence  without  formal  leave,  Joseph  was 
always  obliged  to  wait  in  her  anteroom  until  the  chamberlain 
returned  with  her  majesty's  answer.  To-day  the  empress  was  pro- 
pitious, and  gave  word  for  her  son  to  be  admitted  to  lier  private 
cabinet  at  once.  That  he  might  enter  promptly  upon  the  object  of 
his  visit,  the  emjieror  opened  the  interview  by  handing  the  letter  of 
the  King  of  Spain,  and  requesting  her  majesty  to  read  it  in  his 
presence. 

The  empress,  surprised  at  the  urgency  of  the  demand,  sat  before 
her  escritoiye  and  read  the  missive  of  her  royal  r(>lative ;  while  lier 
son,  witli  foldetl  arms,  stO(jd  near  a  window,  and  scnitinized  lier 
countenance. 

He  saw  how  gradually  her  expression  lowered,  until  heavy  folds 
corrugated  her  brow,  and  deep  heavings  agitated  her  chest. 

"Those  are  the  sea-gulls  that  announce  the  coming  storm,"  said 
he,  to  himself.  "I  nuist  be  on  my  guard  lest  I  be  engulfed  in  the 
foaming  waves. " 

As  if  she  had  guessed  his  thoughts,  Maria  Theresa  raised  her 
eyes  from  the  letter,  and  dartetl  a  look  of  displeasure  at  her  son. 

"Is  th(>  emperor  aware  of  the  contents  of  this  letter?"  asked  she. 

"I  b(>lieve  so,  yom*  ma jesty, "  replied  he,  coming  forward  and 
bowing.  "It  is  an  urgent  rcciucst  on  the  part  of  the  King  of  Spain, 
to  have  the  Jesuits  removed  from  Austria.  " 


DOMINUS  AC  REDEMPTOR  NOSTER.  343 

"Nothing  less,"  cried  the  empress,  indignantly.  "He  expects 
me  to  assume  all  his  enmity  toward  the  Jesuits,  and  urges  it  in  a 
most  unseemly  manner.  Doubtless,  he  requested  your  majesty  to 
present  his  letter  in  person,  because  it  is  well  known,  that  in  this, 
as  in  all  other  things,  your  opinions  are  at  variance  with  those  of 
your  mother.  I  presume  this  is  a  new  tilt  against  my  predilections, 
like  that  in  which  you  overthrew  me  but  a  few  weeks  since,  when 
I  signed  the  act  that  ruined  Poland.  Sjaeak  out.  Are  you  not  here 
to  sustain  the  King  of  Spain?" 

"  I  am,  your  majesty, "  cried  Joseph,  reddening.  "  I  would  do  as 
the  King  of  Spain  has  done.  I  would  importune  you  until  the 
power  of  the  Jesuits  is  crushed  in  Austria,  as  it  has  been  crushed  in 
France  and  in  Spain. " 

"You  will  not  succeed  !"  cried  the  empress,  trying  to  control  her 
rising  anger.  "  I  make  no  protest  against  the  action  of  tlie  kings  of 
France,  Spain,  or  Portugal,  for  I  presume  that  they  have  decided 
according  to  their  convictions ;  but  in  Austria  the  Jesuits  deserve 
all  praise  for  their  enlightened  piety,  and  their  existence  is  so  essen- 
tial to  the  well-being  of  the  people,  that  I  shall  sustain  and  protect 
tliem  as  long  as  1  live. "  * 

"Then,"  cried  Joseph,  passionately,  "Austria  is  lost.  If  I  were 
capable  of  hate,  I  should  hate  these  Jesuits,  who,  propagating  the 
senile  vagaries  of  an  old  Spanish  dotard,  have  sought  to  govern  the 
souls  of  men,  and  have  striven  for  nothing  on  earth  or  in  heaven 
save  the  extension  of  their  own  influence  and  authority. " 

"  It  appears  to  me  that  my  son  has  no  reason  to  lament  the  soft- 
ness of  his  own  heart,"  replied  Maria  Theresa,  bitterly.  "If  he 
were  absolute  sovereign  here,  the  Jesuits  would  be  exiled  to-morrow  ; 
and  the  King  of  Prussia,  for  wdiom  he  entertains  such  unbounded 
admiration,  would  be  the  first  one  to  offer  them  shelter.  I  will 
answer  your  vituperation,  my  son,  by  reading  to  you  a  letter  writ- 
ten by  Frederick  to  his  agent  in  Rome.  It  relates  to  the  rumor  now 
afloat  that  tlie  pope  is  about  to  disperse  the  holy  brotherhood.  I 
have  just  received  a  copy  of  it  from  Italy,  and  it  rejoices  me  to  be 
able  to  lay  it  before  you.     Hear  your  demi-god. " 

The  empress  took  a  paper  from  her  escritoire,  and  unfolding  it, 
read  aloud : 

"Announce  distinctly,  but  without  bravado,  that  as  regards  the 
Jesuits,  I  am  resolved  to  uphold  them  for  the  future,  as  I  have  done 
hitherto.  Seek  a  fitting  opportunity  to  communicate  my  sentiments 
on  the  subject  to  the  pope.  I  have  guaranteed  free  exercise  of  re- 
ligion to  my  subjects  in  Silesia.  I  have  never  known  a  priesthood 
worthier  of  esteem  than  the  Jesuits.  Add  to  this,  that  as  I  am  an 
infidel,  the  pope  cannot  dispense  me  from  the  obligation  of  per- 
forming my  duty  as  an  honorable  man  and  an  upriglit  sovereign. 

"  Frederick.  "  * 

"Well,"  asked  the  empress,  as  she  folded  the  letter,  "shall  the 
infidel  shame  the  Christian?  Would  you  seriously  ask  of  me  to  be 
less  clement  to  the  priesthood  than  a  Protestant  prince?  Never, 
never  shall  it  be  said  that  Maria  Theresa  was  ungrateful  to  the  noble 
brotherhood  who  are  the  bulwarks  of  order  and  of  legitimate 
authority. " 

*  Peter  Philip  Wolf,  "  General  History  of  tlie  Jesuits,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  53. 
2-6 


344  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

Joseph  was  about  to  make  an  angry  retort,  when  the  door  opened 
and  a  page  announced,  with  great  formality  : 

"His  highness  Prince  Kaunitz,  and  his  eminence  the  papal 
nuncio,  Monsignore  Garampi." 

The  two  ministers  followed  close  upon  the  announcement,  and 
the  nuncio  was  received  by  the  empress  with  a  beaming 
smile. 

"I  am  curious  to  know  what  has  brought  Prince  Kaunitz  and 
the  papal  nuncio  together,"  said  she.  "It  is  unusual  to  see  the 
prime  minister  of  Austria  in  the  company  of  churchmen.  It  must, 
therefore,  be  something  significant  which  has  united  church  and 
state  to-day. " 

"Your  majesty  is  right,"  replied  Kaunitz,  "the  visit  of  the 
nuncio  is  so  significant  for  Austria,  that  the  visit  of  your  majesty's 
minister  in  his  company  was  imperative." 

"  Yovir  eminence  comes  to  speak  of  state  affairs?"  inquired  the 
empress,  surprised. 

The  nuncio  drew  from  his  robe  a  parchment  to  whicli  was  affixed 
a  ribbon  with  the  papal  seal. 

"  His  holiness  instructed  me  to  read  this  document  to  your  apos- 
tolic majesty,"  said  Monsignore  Garampi,  with  a  respectful  inclina- 
tion of  the  head.      "Will  3'our  majesty  allow  me?" 

"Certainly,"  said  the  empress,  leaning  forward  to  listen. 

The  nuncio  then  unfolded  the  parchment,  and  amid  the  breath- 
less attention  01  all  present,  read  the  celebrated  document,  which 
in  history  bears  the  name  of  its  first  words  " Dominus  ac  Redemptor 
Foster."  This  letter  stated  that  in  all  ages  the  pope  had  claimed 
the  right  to  found  religious  orders  or  to  abolish  them.  It  cited 
Gregory,  who  had  abolished  the  order  of  the  Mendicant  Friars  ;  and 
Clement  V.,  who  had  suppressed  that  of  tlie  Templars.  It  then 
referred  to  the  Society  of  the  Brotherhood  of  Jesus.  It  stated  that 
this  society  had  hitherto  been  sustained  and  fostered  by  the  papal 
see,  on  acccount  of  its  signal  usefulness  and  the  eminent  piety  of  its 
members.  But  of  late,  the  brotherhood  had  manifested  a  spirit  of 
contentiousness  amongst  themselves,  as  well  as  toward  other  orders, 
organizations,  and  universities ;  and  had  thereby  fallen  under  the 
displeasure  of  the  princes  from  whom  they  had  received  encourage- 
ment and  protection. 

When  the  nuncio  had  read  thus  far,  he  paused  and  raised  his 
eyes  to  the  face  of  the  empress.  It  was  very  pale  and  agitated, 
while  the  countenance  of  the  emperor,  on  the  contrary,  was  Hushed 
with  triumph.  Joseph  tried  to  meet  the  glance  of  Prince  Kannitz's 
eye,  but  it  was  blank  as  ever ;  sometimes  fixed  vacantly  upon  the 
}iuncio,  and  then  turning  with  cold  indifference  toward  the  speak- 
ing countenances  of  the  devoted  friend  and  inveterate  enemy  of  the 
Order  of  Jesus. 

"Go  on,  your  eminence,"  at  length  faltered  the  empress. 

The  nimcio  bowed  and  continued  in  an  audible  voice:  "Seeing 
that  between  tlie  Holy  See  and  tlie  kings  of  France,  Spain,  Portu- 
gal, and  the  Sicilies,  misundertstandings  have  arisen  which  are 
attributable  to  the  influence  of  tlie  Order  of  Jesus ;  seeing  that  the 
society  at  tliis  present  time  has  ceased  to  bear  the  rich  fruits  of  its 
past  usefulness;  the  jtope,  after  conscientious  deliberation,  has 
rcs(>lv(>d,  in  the  fulness  of  his  apostolic  right,  to  suppress  the 
brotherhood. " 


DOMINUS   AC  REDEMPTOR  NOSTER.  345 

A  loud  cry  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  empress,  as  overwhelmed 
by  these  bitter  tidings  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  The 
emperor  approached  as  though  he  wished  to  address  her,  but  she 
waved  him  off  impatiently. 

"Away,  Joseph  !"  said  she ;  "I  will  listen  neither  to  your  condo- 
lence nor  to  your  exultation.  Let  me  advise  you,  too,  to  moderate 
your  transports,  for  this  is  Austrian  soil,  and  no  one  reigns  in 
Austria  but  Maria  Theresa.  The  Jesuits  have  been  a  blessing  to 
mankind  ;  they  have  instructed  our  youth,  and  have  been  the  guar- 
dians of  all  knowledge  ;  they  have  encouraged  the  arts  and  sciences, 
and  have  disseminated  the  Christian  faith  in  every  part  of  the 
world.  They  have  been  the  true  and  loyal  friends  of  my  house ; 
and  in  their  day  of  adversity,  though  I  may  not  defend  them  against 
their  ecclesiastical  superiors,  I  will  protect  them  against  malice  and 
insult. " 

Thus  spoke  the  generous  and  true-hearted  Maria  Theresa ;  but 
her  efforts  to  sustain  the  Jesuits,  as  an  organized  brotherhood,  were 
fruitless.  They  were  an  ecclesiastic  fraternity,  and  as  such,  their 
existence  was  beyond  the  reach  of  civil  authority.  As  individuals, 
they  were  her  subjects  ;  but  as  a  society,  they  were  amenable  to  the 
laws  of  the  Church,  and  by  that  code  alone,  they  stood  or  fell. 

Bravely  she  struggled  ;  but  the  earnest  representations  of  the 
nuncio,  the  sharp,  cutting  arguments  of  Kavmitz,  and  her  own  re- 
luctance to  come  to  a  rupture  with  the  pope  in  a  matter  essentially 
within  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction,  all  these  things  united,  bore 
down  her  opposition  ;  and  with  the  same  reluctance  as  she  had  felt 
in  acquiescing  to  the  partition  of  Poland,  she  consented  to  the  sup- 
pression of  the  Society  of  Jesus. 

"Come  hither,  my  son,"  said  the  empress,  reaching  her  hand  to 
Joseph.  "Since  I  liave  seen  fit  to  give  my  consent  to  this  thing,  I 
have  nothing  wherewith  to  reproach  you.  As  co-regent  I  hope  that 
what  I  am  about  to  say  will  obtain  your  approbation-  Monsignore, 
you  have  read  to  me  the  order  of  his  holiness,  Clement  XIV.,  for 
the  suppression  of  the  Jesuits.  For  my  part,  nothing  would  ever 
have  induced  me  to  expel  them  from  my  dominions.  But  since  his 
holiness  sees  fit  to  do  so,  I  feel  it  to  be  my  duty,  as  a  true  daughter 
of  the  Church,  to  allow  tlie  order  to  be  put  into  execution.*  Ac- 
quaint his  holiness  with  my  decision,  and  remain  a  few  moments 
that  you  may  witness  the  promptitude  with  which  his  intentions 
shall  be  carried  out. " 

She  sat  down  to  her  escritoire,  and  tracing  a  few  lines  upon  a 
piece  of  paper,  handed  it  to  Prince  Kaunitz. 

"Prince,"  said  she,  "here  is  the  order,  which,  in  accordance  to 
strict  form,  must  be  in  my  own  handwriting.  Take  it  to  Cardinal 
Migazzi.  Let  him  carry  out  the  intentions  of  the  pope,  and  him- 
self perform  the  funeral  rites  of  the  devoted  Sons  of  Jesus." 

She  turned  away  her  head,  that  none  might  see  the  tears  which 
were  streaming  from  her  eyes.  Then  rising  from  her  seat,  she 
crossed  the  room.  Those  who  had  brought  this  grief  upon  her, 
watched  her  noble  form,  and  as  they  saw  how  her  step  faltered, 
they  exchanged  silent  glances  of  sympathy.  When  she  reached  the 
door,  she  turned,  and  then  thej  saw  her  pale,  sad  face  and  tearful  eyes. 

"When  the  cardinal  visits  the  College  of  the  Jesuits  to  read  the 
papal  order,  let  an  imperial  commissaritis  accompany  him,"  said 
*  The  empress's  own  words.    Gross-Hofflnger,  vol.  i.,  p.  193. 


346  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Maria  Theresa  in  an  imperative  tone.  "Immediately  after  its 
promulgation,  he  shall  promise  totlie  Jesuits  my  imperial  favor  and 
pi'otection,  if  they  submit  to  the  will  of  the  pope  as  becomeri  true 
servants  of  God  and  of  the  Church.  It  shall  also  be  exacted  tliat 
the  proceedings  against  the  Order  of  Jesus  shall  be  conducted  with 
lenity  and  due  respect ;  and  for  tlie  future,  I  shall  never  suffer 
any  meinber  of  the  society  to  be  treated  with  contumely  or 
scorn. " * 

She  bowed  her  lofty  head,  and  withdrew. 

Complete  silence  followed  tlie  disappearance  of  the  empress.  No 
one  dared  to  violate  the  significance  of  the  moment  by  a  word. 
The  nuncio  bowed  low  to  the  empei'or  and  retired  ;  but  as  Kaunitz 
was  about  to  follow,  Joseph  came  hastily  forward  and  clasped  him 
in  his  arms. 

"I  thank  you,"  whispered  he.  "You  have  fulfilled  your  pledges, 
and  Austria  is  free.     My  obligations  to  yf)U  are  for  life  !" 

The  two  ministers  then  went  down  together  to  the  great  palace 
gate,  where  their  state-carriages  awaited  them. 

Prince  Kaunitz  greeted  the  nuncio  with  another  silent  bow  ;  and 
shrinking  from  the  blasts  of  a  mild  Septemlter  day.f  wrapped  liitn- 
self  up  in  six  cloaks,  and  sealed  up  his  mouth  with  a  huge  mul)  of 
sables.  He  then  stepped  into  his  carriage,  and  drove  olf.  Once 
safe  and  alone  within  his  exhausted  receiver,  he  dropped  his  niuff 
for  a  moment,  and,  wonderful  to  relate — he  smiled. 

"Let  things  shape  themselves  as  they  will,"  said  he,  thought- 
fully. "I  am  abscjlute  master  of  Austria.  Whether  tlie  sovereign 
be  called  Maria  Tlieresa,  or  Josepli,  it  is  all  one  to  me.  Both  feel 
my  worth,  and  both  have  vowed  to  me  eternal  gratitude.  Poland 
has  fallen — the  Jesuits  are  dispersed  ;  but  Kaunitz  is  steadfast,  for 
he  is  the  pillar  upon  wliicli  the  imperial  house  leans  for  support !" 

Four  weeks  after  tlie  ])ublicatiou  of  the  jiapal  order  by  Cardinal 
Migazzi,  the  great  doors  of  the  Jesuit  College  were  opened,  and  forth 
from  its  portals  came  the  brotherhood  of  the  Order  of  Jesus. 

Led  by  their  superior,  all  in  their  long  black  cassocks,  with  ros- 
aries haiiging  at  their  blue  girdles,  they  left  the  familiar  home, 
■whi(;li  had  l)eeu  theirs  for  a  hundred  years.  Each  one  carried  in 
his  hands  liis  Bible  and  breviary.  The  faces  of  tlie  brothers  were 
pale  and  unspeakably  sad,  and  their  lips  Avere  compressed  as  though 
to  thrust  back  the  misery  that  was  surging  within  their  hearts. 

The  multitude  were  mute  as  they.  Not  a  word,  whether  of 
sympatliy  or  of  animosity,  greeted  the  silent  procession.  On  went 
the  noiseless,  spectre-like  train,  until  it  reached  the  market-place. 
There  the  superior  stopped,  and  the  brothers  gatliered  around  him 
in  one  vast  circle. 

He  uncovered  his  head,  and  all  followed  his  example.  All 
bowed  their  heads  in  prayer  to  God  who  had  willed  that  tliis  great 
humiliation  should  befall  them.  In  one  l.ast  petition  to  Heaven  for 
resignation,  they  bade  adieu  to  their  glorious  past  with  its  glorious 
memories  ;  and  the  jieople,  overcome  Jby  the  simple  sublimity  of  the 
scene,  fell  upon  their  knees  and  wept,  repeating,  while  they  wept, 
the  prayers  which  they  had  learned  from  the  teachers  with  whom 
they  were  parting  forever. 

The  prayer  was  ended,  and  now  the  superior  went  from  brother 

*  The  einpres.s's  words.     Adam  Wolf.     "  JIaria  Tlieresa,"  p.  432. 
tThe  papal  order  was  promulgated  in  Vieuiia  on  September  10,  1773. 


HEART  STRUGGLES.  347 

to  brother,  taking  the  haud  of  each  one.  And  every  man  faltered  a 
blessing  which  their  chief  returned.  So  he  went  from  one  to 
another,  until  he  had  greeted  them  all ;  then  passing  from  the 
crowd,  with  a  Jesuit  on  either  side,  he  disappeared. 

So  ended  the  dispersion  of  the  Order  of  Jesus,  whom  the  whole 
world  believed  to  be  crushed  forever.  But  they  knew  better  ;  for, 
as  crowding  around  their  chief,  they  had  whispered:  "Shall  we 
ever  be  a  brotherhood  again?"  he  had  returned  the  pressure  of  their 
friendly  hands,  and  had  replied  with  prophetic  fervor  : 

"Yes  ;  whenever  it  is  God's  will  to  reinstate  us.  Wait  patiently 
for  the  hour.  It  will  surely  come  ;  for  Loyola's  order,  like  the  soul, 
is  immortal !" 


CHAPTER     LXXXVI. 

HEART-STRUGGLES. 

The  week  of  delay  which  the  empress  had  granted  to  the  Countess 
Margaret  had  passed  away,  and  the  eve  of  her  bridal  had  dawned. 
During  those  t  'ght  eventful  daj's  the  countess  had  been  more  fitful 
than  ever,  and  her  uncle's  household  had  suffered  accordingly. 

"She  will  take  her  life,"  whispered  the  servants  among  them- 
selves, as  each  day,  like  a  pale  spectre,  she  glided  through  the  house, 
to  mount  her  wild  Arabian.  The  two  footmen  wlio  accompanied 
her  on  these  occasions,  told  how  she  galloped  so  madly  that  they 
could  scarcely  keep  pace  with  her ;  and  then  suddenly  checked  her 
horse,  and  with  her  head  bent  over  its  neck,  remained  motionless 
and  wept. 

Once  the  emperor  had  surprised  her  in  tears,  and  when  she  be- 
came aware  of  his  presence,  she  started  off  on  a  mad  run  and  left 
him  far  behind.  This  occurred  twice  ;  but  the  third  time  the  em- 
peror came  upon  her  so  (piickly,  that  before  she  had  time  to  fly,  he 
had  grasped  her  rein.  The  footmen  declared  that  they  had  never 
heard  such  a  cry  as  she  gave ;  and  they  thought  tliat  the  emperor 
would  be  highly  offended.     But  he  only  lauglied,  and  said  : 

"  Now,  countess,  you  are  my  prisoner  ;  and  I  shall  not  allow  my 
beautiful  Amazon  to  go,  until  she  has  told  me  why  we  never  see  her 
at  court. " 

The  countess  turned  so  pale  tliat  her  servants  thought  she  would 
fall  from  her  horse,  and  the  emperor  cried  out :  "  Good  Heaven ! 
what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

She  broke  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  striking  her  horse  with  the 
whip,  tried  to  gallop  off  again.  But  the  emperor  put  spurs  to  his 
horse,  and  the  two  dashed  on  together.  Neck  and  neck  they  ran  , 
the  countess  lashing  her  Arabian  until  he  made  wild  leaps  into  the 
air,  the  emperor  urging  his  Barb  with  whip  and  spur,  until  his 
flanks  were  white  with  foam.  At  last  he  came  so  near,  that  he 
made  a  grasp  at  her  rein  and  caught  it,  exclaiming,  with  a  merry 
laugh  : 

"Caught  again !" 

The  countess  tunaed  around  with  eyes  that  darted  lightning. 

"Why  do  you  laugh  so  immoderately?"  said  she. 

"  Because  we  are  enacting  such  a  delightfully  comic  scene.     But 


346  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

do  not  look  so  angry  ;  your  bright  eyes  are  on  fire,  and  tliey  make  a 
man's  heart  boil  over.  Answer  my  question,  and  I  restore  you  to 
treedom.  Why  do  you  shun  me,  and  why  do  you  never  come  to 
court?" 

Now  the  pale  cheeks  flushed,  and  the  voice  was  subdued  until  its 
tones  were  like  plaintive  music.  "Sire,  I  do  not  visit  the  court, 
because  I  am  a  poor,  unhappy  creature,  unfitted  for  society,  and 
because  no  one  misses  me  there." 

"And  why  do  you  fly  from  me  as  if  I  were  Lucifer,  the  son  of 
the  morning?" 

"Ah,  your  majesty,  grief  flies  from  the  light  of  day,  and  seeks 
the  cover  of  friendly  night !  And  now,  free  my  horse,  if  you  would 
not  have  me  fall  dead  at  your  feet !" 

Again  she  turned  pale,  and  trembled  from  head  to  foot.     When 
the  emperor  saw  this,  he  loosed  her  rein,  and  bowing  to  her  saddle 
bow,  galloped  away  out  of  sight.     The  countess  turned  her  horse's 
head,  and  went  slowly  home. 

All  this  Count  Starhemberg  learned  from  the  footmen,  for  never 
a  word  had  his  niece  spoken  to  him  since  the  unhappy  day  of 
Count  Esterhazy's  visit.  To  say  the  truth,  the  old  man  was  not 
sorry  that  her  sorrow  had  taken  the  shape  of  taciturnity  ;  for  her 
pale  cheeks  and  glaring  eyes  affrighted  him  ;  and  he  hugged  him- 
self close  in  his  short-lived  security,  as  each  dav  she  declined  to 
appear  at  table,  and  was  served  in  the  solitude  of  her  own  room. 

She  was  served  ;  but  her  food  returned  untouched.  Neither  did 
she  seem  to  sleep  ;  for  at  all  times  of  the  night  she  could  be  heard 
pacing  her  room.  Then  she  would  sit  for  hours  before  her  piano  ; 
and,  although  her  playing  and  singing  had  been  equally  renowned,' 
her  uncle  had  never  suspected  the  genius  that  had  lain  coucealed  in 
the  touch  of  her  hands  and  the  sound  of  her  voice.  It  was  no  longer 
the  "fierce  countess, "  whose  dashing  execution  had  distanced  all 
gentler  rivals  ;  it  was  a  timid  maiden,  whose  first  love  was  finding 
utterance  in  entrancing  melody.  On  the  night  following  her  last 
encounter  with  the  emperor,  the  music  became  more  passionate  in 
Its  character.  It  was  less  tender,  but  far  more  sad ;  and  often  it 
ceased,  because  the  musician  stopped  to  weep. 

Her  uncle  heard  her  sob,  and  following  the  impulse  of  his  affec- 
tion and  compassion,  he  opened  the  room,  and  came  softly  in. 

He  called  her,  and  she  raised  her  head.  The  light  from  the 
wax-candles  that  stood  on  the  harpsichord  fell  directly  upon  her 
face,  which  was  bedewed  with  tears.  Her  uncle's  entrance  seemed 
neither  to  have  surprised  nor  irritated  her.  With  an  expression  of 
indescribable  woe  slie  merely  nun-mured  : 

"See,  uncle,  to  what  the  empress  has  reduced  me." 

Her  uncle  took  her  in  his  arms,  and,  like  a  weary  child,  she 
leaned  her  head  upon  his  shoulder.  Suddenlv  she  started,  and  dis- 
engaging herself,  she  stood  before  him,  and  took  his  hands  in  hers. 
"Oh,  is  it  inevitable?  Must  I  bow  my  head  like  a  slave  to  this  mar- 
riage, while  my  heart  proclaims  an  eternal  NO  !" 

The  old  count  wiped  his  eves.  "I  fear  there  is  no  hope,  my 
child.     I  have  done  all  th;it  I  could." 

"What  have  you  done?" 

"I  first  appealed  to  C'ount  Esterhazy  ;  but  he  declared  himself  to 
be  too  intoxicated  by  your  beauty  to  resign  you.  I  then  tried  to 
interest  some  of  our  friends  at  court ;  but  no  one  dared  to  intercede 


HEART-STRUGGLES.  349 

for  my  darling.  The  empress  has  received  a  severe  blow  in  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Jesuits,  and  no  one  has  the  courage  to  come  between 
her  and  her  mania  for  match-making.  I  then  appealed  to  her 
majesty  myself;  bvit  in  vain.  Her  only  answer  was  this:  'You 
were  to  Jiiarry  the  count,  or  go  into  a  convent. '  She  added,  that 
to-morrow  every  thing  would  be  prepared  in  the  court  chapel  for 
yovir  marriage  ;  that  she,  herself,  would  honor  you  by  giving  you 
away  ;  and  that,  if  you  did  not  come  punctvially,  when  the  imperial 
state  coach  was  sent  for  you ,  she  would  have  you  taken  instead  to  a 
convent. " 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  she,  with  a  painful  blush. 

"  No,  Margaret.     I  saw  the  emperor  also. " 

"  What  said  he  ?"  asked  the  countess,  in  a  hoarse  voice,  pressing 
so  heavily  upon  the  old  man's  shoulder,  that  he  could  scarcely  stand 
under  the  weight  of  her  hands.  "  Word  for  word,  tell  me  what  he 
said. " 

"I  will  tell  you.  The  emperor  said:  'Dear  count,  no  one  would 
serve  you  sooner  than  I.  But  as  regards  her  mania  for  marrying 
people,  the  empress  is  inflexible.  And,  indeed,  it  seems  to  me  that 
she  has  chosen  admirably  for  your  beautiful  niece.  Count  Ester- 
hazy  is  young,  handsome,  immensely  rich,  and  a  favorite  at  court. 
You  will  see,  dear  count,  that  slie  will  end  by  making  him  an 
affectionate  and  obedient  wife  ;  for  a  young  girl's  hate  is  very  often 
nothing  but  concealed  love.  Those  wei'e  the  einperor's  words,  my 
dear.  I  protested  against  his  interpretation  of  your  dislike  to 
Count  Esterhazy — but  in  vain. " 

To  this,  Margaret  replied  not  a  word.  Her  hands  had  gradually 
fallen  from  her  uncle's  shoulders,  until  they  hung  listless  at  her 
side.  Her  graceful  head  was  bowed  down  by  the  sharp  stroke  of 
the  humiliation  which  had  just  stricken  her,  and  her  whole  attitude 
was  that  of  hopeless  disconsolation. 

After  a  few  moments  she  threw  back  her  head  with  wild  de- 
fiance. "He  will  find  that  he  is  a  false  prophet,"  exclaimed  she, 
with  a  lavigh  of  scorn.     "  I  promise  him  that. " 

"But,  my  dear  girl — "  began  Count  Starhemberg. 

"Will  you,  too,  insult  me  with  prophecies  of  my  future  obedi- 
ence to  this  fine  young  man?  Do  you,  too,  wish  to  prove  to  me  that 
I  am  a  fortunate — " 

" My  child,  I  wish  nothing  of  the  sort." 

"Then  what  means  the 'but'?  Does  it  mean  that  I  am  to  be 
consoled  by  the  splendor  that  is  to  attend  this — execution?  Does  it 
mean  that  my  maidenly  blushes — the  blushes  that  betray  my  secret 
love — are  to  be  hidden  by  a  veil  of  priceless  lace?  Does  it  mean  that 
the  chains,  with  which  your  peerless  empress  will  fetter  my  arms, 
are  to  be  of  gold,  secured  with  diamonds?  Have  you  taken  care  to 
provide  the  myrtle-wreath,  the  emblem  of  love,  wherewith  to  deck 
the  bride's  bow?  O  God  !  O  God  !  May  some  imperial  daughter  of 
this  woman  suffer  worse  than  death  for  this  !" 

The  count  shuddered,  and  left  the  room.  He  had  not  dared  to 
say  that,  in  truth,  her  bridal-dress  was  all  that  she  had  described. 
It  had  all  been  chosen.  The  rich  robe,  the  costly  veil,  the  golden 
bracelets,  the  glittering  diamonds,  even  the  myrtle -wreath,  the  em- 
blem of  the  humble  as  well  as  the  high-born  bride — all  were  there, 
awaiting  the  morrow. 


350  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER   LXXXVII. 

THE  FORCED  BRIDAL. 

The  ceremony  was  to  take  place  at  eleven  o'clock.  The  imperial 
carriage  of  state  was  at  the  door ;  and  behind  it  stood  the  gilded 
coaches  of  Counts  Esterhazy  and  Starhemberg.  Tlie  former  had 
been  awaiting  the  appearance  of  his  bride  for  two  hours  ;  but  to  all 
his  tender  messages  she  had  curtly  replied  that  she  would  come 
when  she  was  ready. 

"  I  fear  she  will  play  us  some  dreadful  trick, "  sighed  the  old 
count. 

"  My  dear  count, "  returned  Esterhazy,  "  no  man  would  be  so  pre- 
suming as  to  thwart  the  empress. " 

"Perhaps  not  —  but  my  niece  has  more  character  than  some 
men. " 

"What  have  I  done  for  her  to  scorn  me  as  she  does  !"  cried  the 
unhappy  little  bridegroom. 

"  You  have  opposed  her,  that  is  all.  My  niece  is  an  Amazon, 
and  cannot  bear  to  give  up  her  heart  at  another's  will.  Had  she 
been  left  free,  it  might  have  been  otherwise." 

"Do  you  really  think  she  will  come  to  love  me?"  asked  Ester- 
hazy, surveying  his  diminutive  comeliness  in  the  mirror  opposite. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  it,  and  so  is  the  emperor.  Take  courage, 
then  ;  bear  with  her  whims  for  a  while  ;  they  are  nothing  but  harm- 
less summer  lightnings.  Do  not  lieed  the  storm ;  think  of  the 
flowers  that  will  spring  up  to  beautify  your  life,  when  the  showers 
of  her  tears  shall  have  passed  away." 

"  Oh,  I  will  be  patient.     She  shall  exhaust  herself. " 

Here  the  door  opened,  and  the  countess's  maid  entered  with  a 
request  that  Count  Esterhazy  would  follow  her  to  her  lady's  apart- 
ment. 

The  count  kissed  his  hand  to  Count  Starhemberg  and  hurried 
away.  When  he  entered  the  countess's  sitting-room,  she  was  stand- 
ing in  all  the  pride  of  her  bridal  attire,  and  seemed  more  transcen- 
dently  beautiful  tlian  ever.  The  court-dress,  with  its  long  trail, 
heiglitened  the  elegance  of  her  figure,  and  the  silver-spotted  veil, 
that  fell  to  her  feet,  enveloped  her  like  a  white  evening  cloud. 

But  how  little  did  her  face  accord  with  this  superb  festive  dress  ! 
Her  cheek  was  deadly  pale  ;  her  exquisite  mouth  was  writhing  witli 
anguish,  and  her  great,  glowing  eyes  darted  glances  of  fiery  hatred. 

"You  really  have  the  courage  to  persevere.  Count  Esterhazy? 
You  will  perpetrate  the  crime  of  marriage  with  me?" 

"When  a  man  opens  his  arms  to  receive  the  most  enchanting 
woman  that  ever  was  sent  on  earth,  do  you  call  that  a  crime?"  said 
Esterhazy,  tenderly. 

An  impatient  slirug  was  the  answer  to  this  attempt  at  galiantrJ^ 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  tliat  you  would  earn  nothing  for  your 
reward  but  my  hatred?  In  tlie  despair  of  my  heart,  have  I  not  told 
you  that  I  love  another  man  ?  Oh,  you  have  come  to  tell  me  that 
you  spare  me  the  sacrifice — have  you  not?  You  will  not  force  a 
helpless  girl  to  marry  you,  who  does  so  only  to  escape  a  convent — 
will  you?  Oh,  tell  me  tliat  you  liave  summoned  manliness  enough 
to  resist  the  empress,  and  to  give  nie  my  freedom  !" 


THE  FORCED  BRIDAL.  351 

*'  I  have  summoned  manliness  enough  to  resist  you  ;  and  bearing 
your  anger,  I  am  resolved  to  take  the  bewitching  woman  to  wife 
whom  my  generous  empress  has  selected  for  me. " 

"You  are  a  contemptible  coward  !"  cried  she. 

"I  forgive  you  the  epithet,  because  I  am  in  love,"  replied  he, 
with  a  smile. 

"But  if  you  have  no  pity  for  me,"  cried  she  wildly,  "have  pity 
on  yourself.  You  have  seen  how  I  treat  my  uncle,  and  yet  I  love 
him  dearly.  Think  what  your  fate  will  be,  since  I  hate  you  im- 
measurably." 

"  Ah, "  said  he,  "  can  j^ou  expect  me  to  be  more  merciful  to  myself 
than  to  you  ?  No,  no  !  I  rely  upon  my  love  to  conquer  your  hate. 
It  will  do  so  all  in  good  time. " 

"As  there  is  a  God  in  heaven,  you  will  rue  this  hour!"  cried 
Margaret  with  mingled  defiance  and  despair. 

"  Come,  countess,  come.  The  empress  and  her  son  await  us  in 
the  court-chapel." 

Margaret  shivered,  and  drew  her  veil  around  her.  She  advanced 
toward  the  door,  but  as  the  count  was  in  the  act  of  opening  it,  she 
laid  her  two  hands  upon  his  arm,  and  held  him  back. 

"Have  mercy  on  my  soul !"  sobbed  she.  "It  is  lost  if  I  become 
your  wife.  I  have  a  stormy  temper,  and  sorrow  will  expand  it  into 
wickedness.  I  feel  that  I  shall  be  capable  of  crime  if  you  force  me 
to  this  marriage. " 

"Gracious  Heaven!"  cried  the  count,  pettishly,  "if  you  abhor 
me  to  such  a  degree,  why  do  you  not  go  into  a  convent?" 

"  I  had  resolved  to  do  so,  for  the  convent  is  less  repulsive  to  me 
than  a  home  in  your  palace  ;  but  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  the  sac- 
rifice. No  ! — Were  I  to  be  immured  within  those  convent  walls,  I 
should  forever  be  shut  out  from  the  sight  of  him  whom  I  love.  Do 
you  hear  this?  Do  you  hear  that  I  marry  you  only  to  be  free  to  see 
him,  to  hear  his  voice,  to  catch  one  glance  of  his  eye  as  he  passes 
me  in  the  crowd?  Oh,  you  will  not  take  to  wife  a  woman  who 
meditates  such  perjury  as  this !  You  will  not  give  your  father's 
name  to  her  who  is  going  to  the  altar  with  a  lie  upon  her  lips 
and  a  crime  upon  her  soul !  Go — tell  all  this  to  the  empress.  Tell 
her  that  you  will  not  disgrace  your  noble  house  by  a  marriage  with 
me  !    Oh,  Count  Esterhazy,  be  merciful,  be  merciful !" 

"  Impossible,  counte.ss,  impossible  ;  were  it  even  possible  for  me 
to  belie  you  by  such  language.  I  shall  not  see  the  empress  until  we 
stand  before  the  altar  together,  and  then  she  will  be  in  her  orator- 
ium,  far  beyond  my  reach. " 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  can  reject  me  at  the  altar.  Oh,  see  how  I  hum- 
ble myself  !  I  am  on  my  knees  before  you.  Spurn  me  from  you  in 
the  face  of  the  whole  world  !" 

Count  Esterhazy  looked  thoughtful.  Unhappily,  the  countess  on 
her  knees  was  more  beautiful  than  ever ;  so  that  remembering  her 
uncle's  words,  he  said  to  himself  : 

"Yes — I  will  humor  her — I  must  feign  to  yield." 

He  sti"etched  out  his  hands,  saying,  "Rise,  countess.  It  does 
not  become  a  sovereign  to  kneel  before  her  slave.  I  have  no  longer 
the  power  to  oppose  your  will.  Before  the  altar,  I  will  say  'No'  to 
the  priest's  question,  and  you  shall  be  free." 

The  countess  uttered  a  loud  cry  of  joy,  and  rose  to  her  feet.  And 
as  her  pale  cheek  kindled  with  hope,  and  her  eyes  beamed  with  hap- 


352  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

piness,  she  was  more  beautiful  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life 
before,  and  Count  Esterhazy  exulted  over  it. 

"God  bless  you  !"  exclaimed  she,  with  a  heavenly  smile.  "You 
have  earned  my  affection  now  ;  for  my  life  I  vow  to  love  you  as  a 
cherished  brother.  Come,  dear,  generous,  noble  friend,  come.  Let 
us  hasten  to  the  chapel. " 

It  was  she  now  who  opened  the  door.  Count  Starhemberg  awaited 
them  in  the  drawing-room.  Margaret  flew  to  meet  him,  and  em- 
bracing him,  said  : 

"Do  I  not  look  like  a  happy  bride  now?  Come,  uncle,  come, 
dear  Count  Esterhazy,  let  us  go  to  our  bridal." 

She  took  Esterhazy 's  arm,  and  he  placed  her  in  the  carriage. 
The  old  count  followed,  in  speechless  wonder. 

At  the  door  of  the  chapel,  they  were  met  by  the  empress's  first 
lady  of  honor,  who  conducted  the  bride  to  the  altar.  The  emperor 
walked  by  the  side  of  Count  Esterhazy.  The  face  of  the  countess 
was  radiant  with  happiness,  and  all  wlio  saw  her  confessed  that  she 
was  lovely  beyond  all  description. 

And  now  the  ceremonial  began.  The  priest  turned  to  Count 
Esterhazy  and  asked  him  if  he  took  the  Countess  Maragret  von  Star- 
hemberg for  his  wedded  wife,  to  love,  honor,  and  cherish  her  until 
death  should  them  divide. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Margaret  looked  with  a  bright  smile  at 
the  face  of  her  bridegroom.  But  the  eyes  of  the  spectators  were 
fixed  upon  him  in  astonishment,  and  the  brow  of  the  empress  grew 
stormy. 

"  Will  you  take  this  woman  for  your  wedded  wife?"  repeated  the 
priest. 

"I  will,"  said  Esterhazy,  in  a  loud  firm  voice. 

A  cry  escaped  from  the  lips  of  Mai-garet.  She  was  so  faint  that 
she  reeled  and  would  have  fallen,  but  for  the  friendly  support  of  an 
arm  that  sustained  her,  and  the  witching  tones  of  a  voice  that  whis- 
pered :    "  Poor  girl,  remember  that  a  cloister  awaits  you. " 

She  recognized  the  voice  of  the  emperor ;  and  overcoming  her 
weakness,  the  courage  of  despair  came  to  her  help. 

She  raised  herself  from  Joseph's  arms  and  taking  the  vinaigrette 
that  was  tendered  her  by  the  lady  of  honor,  she  inlialed  its  reviving 
aroma  ;  then  she  loolved  at  the  priest. 

.  He  continued,  and  repeated  his  solemn  question  to  her.  Eti- 
quette required  that  before  she  answered,  she  should  have  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  empress.  The  countess  turned,  with  a  low  inclination, 
to  the  lady  of  honor,  who,  in  her  turn,  courtesied  deeply  to  tlio 
empress. 

Maria  Theresa  bowed  acquiescence,  and  the  bride,  having  thanked 
her  with  another  courtesy,  turned  once  more  to  the  priest  and  said, 
"Yes." 

The  ceremony  was  over,  and  the  young  couple  received  the  con- 
gratulations of  tlie  court.  Even  tlie  empress  herself  descended  from 
the  oratorium  to  meet  them. 

"I  have  clioseu  a  very  excellent  husband  for  you,"  said  she,  smil- 
ing, "and  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  be  a  very  happy  woman." 

"It  must  be  so,  of  course,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  bride  ;  "for 
had  your  majesty  not  ascertained  that  tliis  marriage  had  been  made 
in  heaven,  you  would  not  have  ordennl  it  on  earth,  I  presmne. " 

Maria  Theresa  darted  a  look  of  auger  at  the  countess,  and  turning 


THE  FORCED  BRIDAL.  353 

her  back  upon  such  presumption,  offered  her  good  wishes  to  the 
count. 

"What  did  you  say,  to  irritate  the  empress  so?"  whispered 
Joseph  to  the  bride. 

Margaret  repeated  her  words.     "  That  was  a  bold  answer, "  said  he. 

"Has  your  majesty  ever  taken  me  for  a  coward?  I  think  I  have 
shown  preter-human  courage  this  day.  "  • 

"What!  Becau.se  you  have  married  Count  Esterhazy?  Believe 
me,  you  will  be  the  happiest  of  tyrants,  and  he  the  humblest  of  your 
slaves. " 

"  I  will  show  him  that  slaves  deserve  the  lash  !"  cried  she,  with 
a  look  of  hatred  at  her  husband,  who  came  forward  to  conduct  her 
to  the  palace,  where  the  marriage  guests  were  now  to  be  received. 

The  festivities  of  the  day  over,  the  empress's  lady  of  honor  con- 
ducted the  countess  to  her  new  home.  It  was  the  duty  of  this  lady 
to  assist  the  bride  in  removing  her  rich  wedding-dress,  and  assum- 
ing the  costly  neglige  which  lay  ready  prepared  for  her  on  a  lounge 
in  her  magnificent  dressing-room. 

But  the  countess  imperiously  refused  to  change  her  dress.  "  Have 
the  goodness,"  said  she,  "to  say  to  her  majesty,  that  you  conducted 
me  to  my  dressing-room.  You  can  say  further,"  added  she,  hearing 
the  door  open,  "that  you  left  me  with  Count  Esterhazy." 

She  pointed  to  the  count,  who  entered,  greeting  the  ladies  with 
a  respectful  bow. 

"I  will  leave  you,  then,"  said  the  lady,  kissing  Margaret's  fore- 
head.    "May  Heaven  bless  you  !" 

Count  Esterhazy  was  now  alone  with  his  wife.  With  a  radiant 
smile  and  both  hands  outstretched,  he  came  toward  her. 

"  Welcome  to  my  house,  beautiful  Margaret !  From  this  hour 
you  reign  supreme  in  the  palace  of  the  Esterhazys." 

The  countess  stepped  back.  "  Do  not  dare  to  touch  my  hand.  A 
gulf  yawns  between  us  ;  and  if  you  attempt  to  bridge  it,  I  will  throw 
you,  headlong,  into  its  fiery  abyss." 

"What  gulf?  Point  it  out  to  me,  that  I  may  bridge  it  with  my 
love, "  cried  Esterhazy. 

"  The  gulf  of  my  contempt, "  said  she,  coldly.  "  You  are  a  coward 
and  a  liar.  You  have  deceived  a  woman  who  trusted  herself  to 
your  honor ;  and  God  in  heaven,  who  would  not  hear  my  prayers, 
God  shall  be  the  witness  of  my  vengeance.  Oh,  you  shall  repent 
from  tliis  hour  to  come,  that  ever  you  called  me  wife !  I  scorn  to 
be  a  liar  like  you,  and  I  tell  you  to  beware.  I  will  revenge  myself 
for  this  accursed  treachery." 

"  I  do  not  fear  your  revenge,  for  you  have  a  noble  heart.  The 
day  will  come  when  I  shall  be  forgiven  for  my  deception.  Heaven 
is  always  clement  toward  the  repentant  sinner ;  and  you  are  my 
heaven,  Margaret.     I  await  the  day  of  mercy. " 

"  Such  mercy  as  Heaven  has  shown  to  me,  I  shall  show  to  you, " 
cried  she.  "And  now,  sir,  leave  this  room.  I  have  nothing  more 
to  say  to  you. " 

"What,  Margaret!"  said  Esterhazy,  with  an  incredulous  smile, 
"you  would  deny  me  the  sweet  right  of  visiting  your  room?  Chide, 
if  you  will ;  but  be  not  so  cruel.     Let  me  have  the  first  kiss — " 

As  he  attempted  to  put  his  arms  around  her,  Margaret  uttered  a 
fearful  cry.  Freeing  herself  with  such  violeuc*  ^,hat  Esterhazy 
reeled  backward  with  the  shock,  she  exclaimed  ; 


354  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Yoii  are  worse  than  a  coward,  for  you  would  take  advantage  of 
rights  which  my  hatred  has  annulled  forever." 

"But,  Margaret,  my  wife — " 

"  Count  Esterhazy, "  said  Margaret  slowly,  "  I  forbid  you  ever  to 
use  that  word  in  this  room.  Before  the  world  I  must  endure  the 
humiliation  of  being  called  your  wife  ;  but  once  over  the  threshold 
of  my  own  room,  I  am  Margaret  Starhemberg,  and  you  shall  never 
know  me  as  any  other  Margaret.     Now  go  !" 

Slie  pointed  to  tlie  door  ;  and  as  the  count  looked  into  her  face, 
where  passion  was  so  condensed  that  it  almost  resembled  tranquil- 
lity, he  had  not  the  hardihood  to  persist.  He  felt  that  he  had 
gained  his  iirst  and  last  victory. 

As  soon  as  he  had  passed  the  door,  Margaret  locked  and  bolted 
it ;  then,  alone  with  the  supreme  anguish  that  had  been  crushed  for 
these  long,  long  hours,  she  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  wept  until  the 
morning-star  looked  down  upon  her  agony. 


CHAPTER    LXXXVIII. 

PRINCE   LOUIS  DE  ROHAN. 

The  cardinal  prince,  Louis  de  Rohan,  French  ambassador  at 
Vienna,  had  petitioned  the  empress  for  a  jirivate  audience,  and  the 
liouor  had  been  granted  him.  It  was  the  first  time,  since  a  year, 
that  he  had  enjoyed  this  privilege;  and  the  proud  prince  had  de- 
termined that  all  Vienna  should  know  it,  for  all  Vienna  was  fully 
aware  of  the  empress's  dislike  to  him. 

Accompanied  by  a  brilliant  cortege,  the  prince  set  out  for  the 
palace.  Six  footmen  stood  behind  his  gilded  carriage,  while  inside, 
seated  upon  cushions  of  white  satin,  the  prince  dispensed  smiles  to 
the  women,  and  nods  to  the  men  who  thronged  the  streets  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  his  magnificence.  Four  pages,  in  the  Rohan  livery,  dis- 
pensed silver  coin  to  the  populace  ;  while  behind  came  four  car- 
riages, lieariug  eight  noblemen  of  the  jn-oudest  families  in  France, 
and  four  other  carriages  which  bore  the  household  of  this  haughty 
prince  of  church  and  realm.* 

The  cortege  moved  slowly,  and  the  people  shouted.  From  every 
window,  burgher's  or  nobleman's,  handsome  women  greeted  the 
handsome  cardinal  who  was  known  to  be  a  coiuioisseur  in  female 
beauty.  The  crowd  outside  followed  him  to  the  i)alace-gates,  and 
when  his  carriage  stopped,  they  shouted  so  vociferously,  that  tlie 
noise  readied  the  ears  of  the  empress  ;  and  so  long,  that  their  shoiits 
had  not  ceased  when  the  cardinal,  leaving  his  brilliant  suite,  was 
ushered  into  the  small  reception-room  where  Maria  Theresa  awaited 
him. 

She  stood  by  the  window,  and  half  tm-ned  her  head,  as  the  prince, 
with  profoundest  salutations,  came  forward.  She  received  his 
obsequious  homage  with  a  slight  inclination  pf  the  liead. 

"  Can  your  eminence  tell  me  the  meaning  of  this  dinV"  asked  she, 
curtly. 

"I  regret  not  to  be  able  to  do  so,  your  majesty.     I  hear  no  din  ; 

*  In  the  bp^cinniiif?  of  the  year  1~S().  Prince  de  Rohan  was  made  cardinal  and  ^rand 
ahuoner  of  Kiancc.  Hi-fDrt-  tlial  time,  lie  had  heen  Arehl)ishop  of  Strasburg.  '"Me- 
moires  flur  la  Vie  PrivCe  do  Marie  Antoinette,"  vol.  i.,  p.  47. 


PRINCE  LOUIS  DE  ROHAN.  355 

I  have  heard  notliing  save  the  friendly  greetings  of  your  people, 
whose  piety  edifies  my  heart  as  a  priest,  and  whose  welcome  is  dear 
to  me  as  a  qnasi  subject  of  your  majesty.  For  the  mother  of  my 
futvire  queen  must  allow  me  the  right  to  consider  myself  almost  as 
her  subject. " 

"  I  would  prefer  that  you  considered  yourself  wholly  the  subject 
of  my  daughter  ;  as  I  doubt  whether  she  will  ever  find  much  loyalty 
in  your  heart,  prince.  But  before  we  go  further,  pray  inform  me 
what  means  all  this  parade  attendant  upon  the  visit  of  the  French 
ambassador  here  to-day?  I  am  not  aware  that  we  are  in  the  carni- 
val ;  nor  have  I  an  unmarried  daughter  for  whom  any  French  prince 
can  have  sent  you  to  propose. " 

''Surely  your  majesty  would  not  compare  the  follies  of  the  carni- 
val with  the  solemnity  of  an  imperial  betrothal, "  said  the  arch- 
bishop, deferentially. 

"  Be  so  good  as  not  to  evade  my  question.  I  ask  why  you  came 
to  the  palace  with  a  procession  just  fit  to  take  its  place  in  a  carnival?" 

"Because  the  day  on  which  the  mother  of  the  dauphiness  receives 
me,  is  a  great  festival  for  me.  I  have  so  long  sued  for  an  audience, 
that  when  it  is  granted  me,  I  may  well  be  allowed  to  celebrate  it 
with  the  po'.np  which  befits  the  honor  conferred." 

"And  in  such  a  style  that  all  Vienna  may  know  it,  and  the 
rumor  of  your  audience  reach  the  ears  of  the  dauphiness  herself." 

"  I  cannot  hope  that  the  dauphiness  takes  interest  enough  in  the 
French  ambassador  to  care  whether  he  be  received  at  a  foreign  court 
or  not,"  replied  the  cardinal,  still  in  his  most  respectful  tone. 

"I  request  you  to  come  to  the  point,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  impa- 
tiently. "Tell  me,  at  once,  why  you  have  asked  for  an  audience? 
What  seeks  the  French  ambassador  of  the  empress  of  Austria?" 

"Allow  me  to  say  that  had  I  appeared  to-day  before  j'our  majesty 
as  the  French  ambassador,  I  would  have  been  accompanied  by  my 
afiac/ie's  and  received  by  your  majesty  instate.  But  your  majesty 
is  so  gracious  as  to  receive  me  in  private.  It  follows,  therefore, 
that  the  Cai-dinal  de  Rohan,  the  cousin  of  the  dauphin,  visits  the 
imperial  mother  of  the  young  dauphiness. " 

"  In  other  words,  you  come  hither  to  complain  of  the  dauphiness- 
consort ;  again  to  renew  the  unpleasant  topics  which  have  been  the 
cause  of  my  repeated  refusals  to  see  you  here. " 

"  No,  your  majesty,  no.  I  deem  it  my  sacred  duty  to  speak  con- 
fidentially to  the  mother  of  the  dauphiness." 

"If  the  mother  of  the  dauphiness- consort  will  listen,"  cried  the 
proud  empress,  sharply  emphasizing  the  word  "consort." 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  the  apparent  oversight, "  said  De 
Rohan,  with  a  smile.  "But  as  a  prince  of  the  church,  it  behooves 
me,  above  all  things,  to  be  truthful,  and  the  Dauphiness  of  France 
is  not  yet  dauphiness- consort.  Your  majesty  knows  that  as  well  as 
I  do." 

"I  know  that  my  daughter's  enemies  and  mine  have  succeeded 
so  far  in  keeping  herself  and  her  husband  asunder, "  said  the  empress 
bitterly. 

"  But  the  dauphiness  possesses,  in  her  beauty,  worth,  and  sweet- 
ness, weapons  wherewith  to  disarm  her  enemies,  if  she  would  but 
use  them, "  said  De  Rohan,  with  a  shrug.  "Unhappily,  she  makes 
no  attempt  to  disarm  them." 

"  Come — say  what  you  have  to  say  without  so  much  eircumlocu- 


356  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

tion, "  cried  Maria  Theresa,  imperiously.     "What  new  complaint 
have  the  French  against  my  daughter?" 

"Your  majesty  is  the  only  person  that  can  influence  the  proud 
spirit  of  the  dauphiness.  Marie  Antoinette  adores  her  mother,  and 
your  majesty's  advice  will  have  great  weight  with  her." 

"  What  advice  shall  I  give  her?" 

"  Advise  her  to  give  less  occasion  to  her  enemies  to  censure  her 
levity  and  her  contempt  of  conventional  forms." 

"Who  dares  accuse  my  daughter  of  levity?"  said  the  empress, 
her  eyes  flashing  with  angry  pride. 

"Those  who,  in  the  corruption  of  their  own  hearts,  mistake  for 
wantonness  that  which  is  nothing  more  than  the  thoughtlessness  of 
unsuspecting  innocence. " 

"  You  are  pleased  to  speak  in  riddles.  I  am  Maria  Theresa— not 
CEdipus. " 

"I  will  speak  intelligently,"  said  De  Rohan,  with  his  everlasting 
smile.  "There  are  many  things,  innocent  in  themselves,  which  do 
not  appear  so  to  worldly  eyes.  Innocence  may  be  attractive  in  a 
cottage,  but  it  is  not  so  in  a  palace.  An  ordinary  woman,  even  of 
rank,  has  the  right,  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  room,  to  indulge  her- 
self in  childish  sport;  but  your  majesty's  self  cannot  justify  your 
daughter  when  I  tell  you  that  she  is  in  the  habit  of  playing  wild 
games  with  the  young  ladies  who  have  been  selected  as  her  com- 
panions." 

"My  poor  little  Antoinette!"  exclaimed  the  empress,  her  eyes 
filling  with  compassionate  tears.  "  Her  enemies,  who  do  not  allow 
her  to  be  a  wife,  might  surely  permit  her  to  remain  a  child !  I 
have  heard  before  to-day,  of  the  harmless  diversions  which  she  en- 
joys with  her  young  sisters-in-law.  If  there  were  any  sense  of 
justice  in  France,  you  would  understand  that,  to  amuse  half-grown 
girls,  the  dauphiness  must  herself  play  the  child.  But  I  know  that 
she  has  been  blamed  for  her  natural  gayety,  poor  darling ;  and  I 
know  that  Madame  de  Marsan  will  never  forgive  her  for  feeling  a 
sisterly  interest  in  the  education  of  the  young  princesses  of  France.* 
I  know  that  the  saloons  of  Madame  de  Marsan  are  a  hot-bed  of 
gossip,  and  that  every  action  of  the  dauphiness  is  there  distorted 
into  crime,  f  If  my  lord  cardinal  has  nothing  else  to  tell  me,  it  was 
scarcely  worth  his  while  to  come  to  the  palace  in  so  pompous  a 
manner,  with  such  a  solemn  face." 

"  I  did  not  come  to  your  majesty  to  accuse  the  dauphiness,  but  to 
warn  her  against  her  enemies ;  for  unfortunately  she  lias  enemies 
at  court.  These  enemies  not  only  deride  her  private  diversions,  but, 
with  affectation  of  outraged  virtue,  they  speak  of  recreations, 
hitherto  unheard  of  at  the  court  of  France." 

"W^liat  recreations,  pray?" 

"  The  dauphiness,  without  the  sanction  of  the  king,  indulges  in 
private  theatricals." 

"  Private  theatricals !     That  must  be  an  invention  of  her  enemies. 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  it  is  the  truth.  The  dauphiness  and 
lior  married  sisters-in-law  \ake  the  female  characters,  and  the 
brotlicrs  of  the  king  the  male.  Sometimes  Monsieur  de  Campan, 
the  private  secretary  of  tlie  deceased  cjueen,  and  his  son,  who  fills 
the    same  office  for  the  daupliiness,   join   the  actors.      The  royal 

*  Madame  de  Marsan  was  their  governess. 

f  "  M6moires  de  Madame  de  Campau,"  vol.  i.,  p.  05. 


PRINCE  LOUIS  DE  ROHAN.  357 

troupe  give  their  entertainments  in  an  empty  entresol,  to  which 
the  liousehold  liave  no  access.  The  Count  of  Provence  plays  the 
jeune  premier,  but  the  Count  d'Artois  also  is  considered  a  good  per- 
former. I  am  told  that  the  costumes  of  the  princesses  are  magnifi- 
cent, and  their  rivalry  carried  to  the  exti'eme. " 

The  empress,  affecting  not  to  hear  the  last  amiable  remark,  said  : 

"Who  are  the  audience?" 

"There  is  but  one  spectator,  your  majesty,  the  dauphin  him- 
self." 

Maria  Theresa's  face  lighted  up  at  once,  and  she  smiled. 

The  cardinal  went  on  :  "The  aunts  of  the  dauphin  themselves  are 
not  admitted  to  their  confidence,  lest  they  might  inform  the  king, 
and  his  majesty  forbid  the  indecorous  representations." 

"I  shall  write  to  the  dauphiness  and  advise  her  to  give  up  these 
I'epresentations, "  said  Maria  Theresa,  calmly,  "not  because  they  are 
indecorous,  but  because  they  are  a  pretext  for  her  enemies.  If  she 
has  the  approbation  of  her  husband,  that  of  itself  ought  to  suffice  to 
the  court ;  for  it  is  not  an  unheard  thing  to  have  dran:iatic  represen- 
tations by  the  royal  family.  Louis  XIV.  appeared  on  the  boards  as 
a  dancer ;  and  even  under  the  pious  Madame  de  Maintenon,  the 
princes  and  princesses  of  Fi'ance  acted  the  dramas  of  Comeille  and 
Racine. " 

"But  they  had  the  permission  of  the  king,  and  none  of  them 
were  future  queens. " 

"What  of  that?  If  the  queen  approved  of  the  exhibition,  the 
dauphiness  might  surely  repeat  it.  My  daughter  is  doing  no  more 
at  Versailles,  than  she  has  been  accustomed  to  do  at  Schonbrunn, 
in  her  mother's  presence. " 

"  The  etiquette  of  the  two  courts  is  dissimilar, "  said  De  Rohan, 
with  a  shrug.  "  In  Vienna,  an  archduchess  is  permitted  to  do  that 
which,  in  Paris,  would  be  considered  an  impropriety. " 

"Another  complaint !"  cried  the  empress,  out  of  patience. 

"The  dauphiness  finds  it  a  bore,"  continued  De  Rohan,  "to  be 
accompanied  wherever  she  goes,  by  two  ladies  of  honor.  She  has, 
therefore,  been  seen  in  the  palace,  even  in  the  gardens  of  Versailles, 
without  any  escort,  except  that  of  two  servants. " 

"Have  you  come  to  the  end  of  your  complaints?"  said  the  em- 
press, scarcely  able  to  control  her  passion. 

"  I  have,  your  majesty.  Allow  me  to  add,  that  the  reputation  of 
a  woman  seldom  dies  from  a  single  blow — it  expires  gradually  from 
repeated  pricks  of  the  needle.  And  queens  are  as  liable  to  such 
mortality  as  other  women. " 

"  It  ill  becomes  the  Prince  de  Rohan  to  pass  judgment  upon  the 
honor  of  women,"  cried  Maria  Theresa,  exasperated  by  his  lip- 
morality.  "If  the  French  .ambassador  presumes  to  come  to  me 
with  such  trivial  complaints  as  I  have  heard  to-day,  I  will  direct 
my  minister  in  Paris  to  make  representations  to  the  king  of  another 
and  a  more  serious  nature. " 

"Regarding  the  unpardonable  indiff'erence  of  the  dauphin  to  his 
wife?"  asked  the  cardinal,  wnth  S5'mpathizing  air. 

"No.  Regarding  the  unpardonable  conduct  of  the  French  am- 
bassador in  Vienna."  exclaimed  the  empress.  "If  the  cardinal  is 
so  shocked  at  a  slight  breach  of  etiquette,  he  should  be  careful  to 
conceal  his  own  deformities  under  its  sheltering  veil.  Innocence 
may  sin  against  ceremony  ;  but  he,  who  leads  a  dissolute  and  volup- 


358  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

tuous  life,  should  make  decorum  a  shield  wherewith  to  cover  his 
own  shame  !" 

"  I  thank  your  majesty  for  this  axiom  so  replete  with  worldly 
wisdom.  But  for  whom  can  it  be  intended?  Certainly  not  for  the 
dauphiness. " 

"  No  ;  for  yourself,  prince  and  cardinal !"  cried  the  empress,  be- 
side herself  with  anger.  "For  the  prelate  who,  unmindful  of  his 
rank  and  of  its  obligations,  carries  on  his  shameless  intrigues  even 
with  the  ladies  of  my  court.  For  the  ambassador  who,  leading  a 
life  of  Oriental  magnificence,  is  treading  under  foot  the  honor  of  his 
country,  by  living  upon  the  credulity  of  his  inferiors.  All  Vienna 
knows  that  your  liousehold  makes  unworthy  use  of  your  privileges  as 
a  foreign  minister,  by  importing  goods  free  of  tax,  and  reselling 
them  here.  All  Vienna  knows  that  there  are  more  silk  stockings 
sold  at  the  hotel  of  the  French  embassy  than  in  all  Paris  and  Lyons 
together.  The  world  blames  me  for  having  revoked  the  privilege 
enjoyed  by  foreign  embassies  to  import  their  clothing  free  of  duty. 
It  does  not  know  that  the  abuse  of  this  privilege  by  j'ourself  has 
forced  me  to  the  measure. " 

"  Your  majesty  is  very  kind  to  take  so  much  trouble  to  inves- 
tigate the  affairs  of  my  household.  You  are  more  an  fait  to  the 
details  than  myself.  I  was  not  aware,  for  instance,  that  silk  stock- 
ings were  sold  at  tlie  embassy.  No  more  than  I  was  aware  that  I 
had  had  any  amours  witli  the  ladies  of  the  court.  I  have  a  vory 
cold  heart,  and,  perhaps,  that  is  the  reason  why  I  have  never  seen 
one  to  whom  I  would  devote  a  second  thought.  As  regards  my 
manner  of  living,  I  consider  it  appropriate  to  my  rank,  titles,  and 
means ;  and  that  is  all  that  I  feel  it  necessary  to  say  on  the  sub- 
ject. " 

"Youdisi)ose  of  these  charges  in  a  summary  manner.  To  hear 
you,  one  would  really  suppose  there  Avas  nob  the  sliglitest  ground  for 
reproach  in  your  life, "  said  the  empress,  satirically. 

"That  this  is  quite  within  the  range  of  possibility,  is  proved  by 
the  case  of  the  dauphiness,"  replied  De  Rohan.  "If  your  majesty 
thinks  so  little  of  her  breaches  of  etiquette,  it  seems  to  me  that  mine 
are  of  still  less  consequence.  And  allow  me  to  sa}',  that  the  French 
nation  will  sooner  foi'give  me  a  thousand  intrigues  with  the  ladies 
of  Vienna,  tlian  pass  over  the  smallest  deviation  from  court  usages 
on  the  part  of  the  dauphiness.  Marie  Antoinette  has  defied  tliem 
more  than  once,  and  I  fear  me,  she  will  bitterly  repent  her  thought- 
lessness.    Her  enemies  are  watchfiU  and- — " 

"Oh,  I  see  tliat  they  are  watchful,"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  "I 
see  it.  Do  not  deny  it,  you  are  one  of  those  wliose  evil  eyes  see  evil 
doings  in  every  impulse  of  my  dear  defenceless  child's  heart.  But 
have  a  care,  sir  cardinal,  the  friendless  dau])hiness  will  one  day  be 
Queen  of  France,  and  sh'.'  will  then  haVe  it  in  her  power  to  bring  to 
justice  those  who  persecute  her  now  !"* 

"Iliofjc  that  I  shall  never  be  accused  of  such  fellou'ship.  "  said 
De  Rohan,  for  the  first  time  losing  his  proud  self-possession. 

"I,  the  Empress  of  Austria,  accuse  you  to-day  of  it!"  cried 
Maria  Theresa,  with  tlu-eatening  mien.  "Oh,  my  lord,  it  doe.s  you 
litthi  lionor — ^you,  a  royal  luMsonage  and  a  prince  of  the  cluirch,  to 
e.Kcliange  letters  with  a  Du  l^arry,  to  wliose  shameless  ears  you  de- 
fame the  mother  of  your  futai-e  queen  !" 

*  "M6moires  do  Madame  de  Campan,'"  vol.  i.,  p.  47. 


PRINCE  LOUIS  DE  ROHAN.  359 

"  When  did  I  do  this?  When  was  I  so  lost  to  honor  as  to  speak 
a  disrespectful  word  of  the  Empress  of  Austria?" 

"You  deny  it — do  you?  Let  me  tell  you  that  your  praise  or  your 
blame  are  all  one  to  me  ;  and  if  I  have  granted  you  this  interview, 
it  was  to  show  you  how  little  I  am  disturbed  by  your  censorious 
language.  I  know  something  of  the  intriguing  at  Versailles.  I 
have  even  heard  of  the  private  orgies  of  the  '  O^il  de  Bo3uf , '  where 
Louis  entertains  his  favorites.  And  I  will  tell  you  what  took  place 
at  the  last  one.  The  Countess  du  Barry  was  diverting  the  company 
with  accounts  of  the  hypocrisy  of  the  Empress  of  Austria ;  and  to 
prove  it,  she  drew  from  her  pocket-book  a  letter,  saying:  'Hear 
what  the  Cardinal  de  Rohan  says  about  her. '  Now,  cardinal,  do 
you  still  deny  that  you  correspond  with  her?" 

" I  do  deny  it, "  said  the  prince,  firmly.  "I  deny  that  I  ever  have 
written  her  a  word. " 

The  empress  took  from  her  pocket  a  paper,  and  read  as  follows  : 

"  ■  True,  I  have  seen  Maria  Theresa  weeping  over  the  fate  of  Po- 
land, but  this  sovereign,  who  is  such  an  adept  in  the  art  of  dissimu- 
lation, appears  to  have  tears  and  sighs  at  her  command.  In  one 
hand  slie  holds  her  pocket-handkerchief,  and  in  the  other  the  sword 
with  which  she  cuts  off  a  third  of  that  unhappy  country. '  * 

"  Now,  sir  cardinal,  upon  your  sacred  honor,  did  you  or  did  you 
not  w^rite  these  words?" 

The  prince  turned  pale,  and  grasped  the  arm  of  the  chair  on 
which  he  sat. 

"  Upon  your  honor  and  your  conscience,  before  God  !"  reiterated 
the  empress. 

The  cardinal  raised  his  eyes  slowly,  and  in  a  low  voice,  said  : 

"  I  dare  not  deny  it.  I  wrote  them.  In  an  unlucky  hour  I  wrote 
them — but  not  to  Du  Barry. " 

"  To  whom,  then  ?" 

"To  one  who  has  betrayed  me  to  Du  Barry.  Far  be  it  for  me  to 
name  him.  I  alone  will  bear  the  weight  of  your  majesty's  dis- 
pleasure.    I  alone  am  the  culprit. " 

"  I  know  of  no  culprit  in  the  matter, "  replied  Maria  Theresa, 
throwing  back  her  stately  head.  "  I  stand  before  God  and  before 
the  world,  and  every  man  has  a  right  to  pass  sentence  upon  my 
actions — even  the  Cai'dinal  de  Rohan.  I  merely  wish  to  show  him 
that  the  dauphiness  and  her  mother  both  know  what  to  expect  of 
his  eminence." 

"The  dauphiness  knows  of  this  letter?"  cried  De  Rohan. 

"It  is  she  who  sent  me  this  copy." 

The  prince  bowed  his  head  down  upon  his  hands. 

"I  am  lost !"  murmured  he. 

The  empress  surveyed  him  with  mistrust.  Such  emotion  on  the 
part  of  such  a  man  astonished  her,  and  she  doubted  its  sincerity. 

"Why  this  comedy,  prince?"  said  she.  "I  have  already  told  you 
that  I  am  indifferent  to  your  opinion." 

"But  the  dauphiness  never  will  forgive  me,"  said  he,  vmcover- 
ing  his  face.  "  My  contrition  is  no  comedy  ;  for  I  look  with  pro- 
phetic eyes  into  the  future — and  there  I  see  anguish  and  tears." 

"For  whom?"  said  Maria  Theresa,  scornfully. 

"Forme,  and  perchance  for  the  dauphiness.     She  considers  me 
her  enemy,  and  will  treat  me  as  such.     But  hatred  is  a  two-edged 
*  '■M6moires  de  Weber  concernant  Marie  Antoinette,"  vol.  viii.,  p.  305. 
24 


360  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

sword  which  is  as  apt  to  wound  the  one  who  holds  it  as  the  one  for 
whom  it  is  unsheathed.  Oh,  your  majesty,  warn  the  dauphiness ! 
She  stands  upon  the  brow  of  a  precipice,  and  if  she  do  not  recede, 
her  enemies  will  thrust  her  headlong  into  the  abyss  below.  Marie 
Antoinette  is  an  angel  of  innocence  and  chastity,  but  the  world  in 
which  she  lives  does  not  understand  the  language  of  angels  ;  and  the 
wioked  will  soil  her  wings,  that  her  purity,  may  not  be  a  reproach 
to  their  own  foulness.  Warn  the  dauphiness  to  beware  of  her  ene- 
mies. But,  as  God  hears  me,  I  am  not  one  of  them.  Marie  Antoi- 
nette will  never  believe  me,  and,  therefore,  my  fate  is  sealed.  I 
beg  leave  of  your  majesty  to  withdraw. " 

Without  awaiting  the  answer,  the  prince  bowed  and  retired. 

Maria  Theresa  looked  thoughtfully  after  him,  and  long  after  he 
had  closed  the  door,  she  remained  standing  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  a  prey  to  the  anxious  misgivings  which  his  visit  had  kindled 
in  her  heart. 

"He  is  right,"  said  she,  after  a  time.  "She  wanders  upon  the 
edge  of  a  precipice,  and  I  must  save  her.  But,  oh  my  God  !  where 
shall  I  find  a  friend  who  will  love  her  enough  to  brave  her  dis- 
pleasure, and,  in  the  midst  of  the  flattery  which  surrounds  her, 
will  raise  the  honest  voice  of  reproof  and  censure?  Ah,  she  is  so 
unhappy,  my  little  Antoinette,  and  I  have  no  power  to  help  her ! 
Oh  my  God  !  succor  my  persecuted  child  !" 


CHAPTER    LXXXIX. 

THE  POLES  AT  VIENNA. 

The  three  powers  which  had  lived  so  long  at  variance,  had 
united  themselves  in  one  common  cause — the  pacification  of  Poland. 
In  vain  had  Stanislaus  refused  his  assent  to  their  friendly  interven- 
tion. In  vain  had  he  appealed  to  England  and  France  for  help. 
Neither  of  these  powers  was  willing,  for  the  sake  of  unliappy  Po- 
land, to  become  involved  in  a  war  with  three  nations,  who  were 
ready  to  hurl  their  consolidated  strength  against  any  sovereign  who 
would  have  presumed  to  dispute  their  joint  action. 

In  vain  King  Stanislaus  began,  by  swearing,  that  sooner  than 
consent  to  the  dismemberment  of  Poland,  he  would  lose  his  right 
hand.  The  three  powers,  tired  of  his  impotent  struggles,  informed 
him',  through  their  envoys  at  Warsaw,  that  there  were  limits  to  the 
moderation  which  decorum  prescribed  to  governments  ;  that  they 
stood  upon  these  limits,  and  awaited  his  speedy  acquiescence  to  the 
act  of  partition.*  The  Russian  empress  added  that,  if  Stanislaus 
did  not  call  a  convention  of  the  Polish  Diet  to  recognize  the  act,  she 
would  devastate  his  land,  so  that  he  would  not  have  a  silver  spoon 
left  to  him.f 

The  unliappy  king  had  no  longer  the  nerve  to  brave  such  terrific 
threats.  He  submitted  to  tlie  will  of  his  tyrants,  and  came  in  as 
a  fourth  power,  eager  to  obtain  as  much  as  he  could  for  his  own 
individual  advantage. 

The  wretched  Poles  took  no  notice  of  the  edicts  of  a  king  who 

*  Raumer,  "  Contributions  to  Modern  Ilistory,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  516. 
t  Raumer,  "Contributions  to  Modern  History,"  vol.  i.,  p.  507. 


THE  POLES  AT  VIENNA.  361 

had  been  forced  upon  them  by  a  strange  sovereign.  Only  a  few 
cowards  and  hirelings  obeyed  the  call  for  a  convention  ;  so  that  in 
all,  there  were  only  thirty -six  members,  who,  mider  the  surveillance 
of  Austrian  and  Prussian  hussars,  signed  their  names  to  the  act  of 
partition. 

The  King  of  Prussia  received  Pomerelia,  and  the  district  of 
Nantz  ;  Russia  took  Livonia,  and  several  important  way wodeships  ; 
and  Austria  obtained  the  county  of  Zips,  a  portion  of  Galicia  and 
of  Lodomeria,  and  half  of  the  palatinate  of  Cracow. 

Here  and  there  an  isolated  voice  was  raised  to  protest  against 
the  stupendous  robberj^  ;  but  it  was  lost  amidst  the  clash  of  arms 
and  the  ti-ead  of  soldiery.  Whenever  a  word  was  spoken  that 
fretted  the  sensibilities  of  Austria  or  Prussia,  Catharine  said  she  was 
willing  to  bear  all  the  blame  of  the  thing  ;  and  laughing  heartily, 
she  called  the  protests  that  were  sent  on  the  subject,  ''vioutarde 
apres  diner.'"  Frederick  resorted  to  self-deception,  proclaiming  to 
the  world,  "that  for  the  first  time  the  King  and  the  Republic  of 
Poland  were  established  on  a  firm  basis  ;  that  they  could  now  apply 
themselves  in  peace  to  the  construction  of  such  a  government  as 
would  tend  to  preserve  the  balance  of  power  between  proximate 
nations,  and  prevent  them  from  clashing."* 

The  Poles,  in  silent  rancor,  submitted  to  their  fate,  and  took  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  their  oppressors.  New  boundary-lines  were 
drawn,  and  new  names  assigned  to  the  sundered  provinces  of  the 
dismembered  fatherland.  The  citadels  were  given  over  to  their  for- 
eign masters,  and  now  the  deed  was  consummated. 

Even  Maria  Theresa  rejoiced  to  know  it,  and  whether  to  relieve 
her  burdened  heart,  or  to  pretend  to  the  world  that  she  approved  of 
the  transaction,  she  ordered  a  solemn  Te  Deum  to  be  sung  in  the 
cathedral  of  St.  Stephen,  in  commemoration  of  the  event. 

The  entire  court  was  to  assist  at  this  ceremony,  after  which  the 
empress  was  to  receive  the  oath  exacted  from  those  of  her  new  sub- 
jects who  desired  to  retain  possession  of  their  propertJ^ 

The  ladies  of  the  court  were  in  the  anteroom,  awaiting  the 
entrance  of  the  sovereigns.  Their  handsome,  rouged  faces  were 
bright  with  satisfaction  ;  for  they  had  all  suffered  from  the  misery 
which,  for  a  year  past,  had  been  endured  by  their  imperial  mistress. 
Now  they  might  look  forward  to  serene  skies  and  a  renewal  of  court 
festivities,  and  they  congratulated  one  another  in  triumph. 

But  they  were  cautious  not  to  give  too  audible  expression  to  their 
hopes.  They  whispered  their  expectations  of  pleasure,  now  and 
then  casting  stolen  glances  at  a  tall  figure  in  black,  which,  sorrow- 
ful and  alone,  stood  tearfully  regarding  the  crowds  in  the  streets 
who  were  hurrying  to  church  to  celebrate  her  country's  downfall. 
This  was  the  Countess  von  Salmour,  governess  to  the  Archduchess 
Mariana.  With  the  other  ladies  of  the  palace,  she  was  to  accom- 
pany the  empress  to  the  cathedral ;  but  it  was  clear  to  all  beholders 
that  to  her  this  was  a  day  of  supreme  humiliation. 

The  great  bell  of  St.  Stephen's  announced  to  her  people  that  the 
empress  was  about  to  leave  the  palace.  The  folding-doors  were 
flung  open,  and  she  appeared  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  emperor, 
followed  by  the  princes,  princesses,  generals,  and  statesmen  of  her 
realms.  Silently  the  ladies  of  honor  ranged  themselves  on  either 
side  of  the  room  to  let  the  imperial  family  pass  by.  Maria  Tlieresa's 
*  Raumer,  "Contributions,"  p.  542. 


362  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

eyes  glanced  hastily  around,  and  fell  upon  the  pale,  wan  features  of 
the  Countess  von  Salmour. 

All  eyes  now  sought  the  face  of  the  unhappj'  lady,  whose  sad 
mourning  garments  were  in  such  striking  contrast  with  the  mag- 
nificent dresses  of  the  ladies  around  her. 

"Madame  von  Salmour,"  said  the  empress,  "I  dispense  you  from 
your  duties  for  this  day.  You  need  not  accompany  the  court  to 
church. " 

Tlie  countess  covirtesied  deeply,  and  replied  :  "  Your  majesty  is 
right  to  excuse  me  ;  for  had  I  gone  with  the  court  to  church,  I 
might  have  been  tempted  to  utter  treason  to  Heaven  against  the 
oppressors  of  my  country." 

The  company  were  aghast  at  the  audacity  of  the  rejoinder,  but 
the  empress  replied  with  great  mildness  : 

"  You  are  right ;  for  the  temptation  would  indeed  be  great,  and 
it  is  noble  of  you  to  speak  the  truth.     I  respect  your  candor. " 

She  was  about  to  pass  on,  but  paused  as  if  she  had  forgotten 
something. 

"Is  the  Countess  Wielopolska  in  Vienna?"  asked  she. 

"She  arrived  yesterday,  your  majesty." 

"Go  to  her  while  we  are  at  church,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  com- 
passionately. 

Madame  von  Salmour  glanced  toward  the  emperor,  who,  with  an 
expression  of  painful  embarrassment,  was  listening  to  their  conver- 
sation. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty, "  said  the  lady, "  the  Countess  Wielo" 
polska  is  making  preparations  for  a  journey,  and  she  receives  no 
one.    We  jjarted  yesterday.     To-morrow  she  leaves  Vienna  forever." 

"I  am  glad  that  she  intends  to  travel,"  said  Maria  Theresa, 
approvingly.  "  It  will  divert  her  mind  ;"  and  with  a  friendly  smile, 
she  took  leave  of  the  governess,  and  passed  on. 

Joseph  followed  with  wildly  throbbing  heart ;  and  neither  the 
triumphant  strains  of  the  Te  Deiim,  nor  the  congratulatory  shouts  of 
his  subjects,  could  bring  back  serenity  to  his  stormy  brow.  He 
knelt  before  the  altar,  and  with  burning  shame  thouglit  of  his  first 
entry  into  St.  Stephen's  as  Emperor  of  Austria.  It  liad  been  the 
anniversary  of  the  deliverance  of  Vienna  by  John  Sobieski  and 
his  Poles  ;  and  in  the  self-same  spot  where  the  emperor  had  thanked 
God  for  this  deliverance,  he  now  knelt  in  acknowledgment  of  the 
new  principalities  which  were  tlie  fruits  of  his  own  ingratitude  to 
I'ulaud. 

From  these  painful  and  Immiliating  retrospections,  the  emperor's 
thoughts  wandered  to  the  beautiful  being,  who,  like  a  hamadryad, 
had  blended  her  life  witli  the  tree  of  Polisli  liberty.  He  thought  of 
that  face  whose  pallid  splendor  reminded  him  of  the  glories  of  waning 
day  ;  and  he  listened  through  the  long,  dim  aisles  of  memory,  to  the 
sound  of  that  enchanting  voice,  whose  melody  had  won  his  heart 
long  ago  on  that  first,  happy  evening  at  Neustadt. 

The  Countess  Wielopolska  was  leaving  Vienna  forever,  and  yet 
there  was  no  message  for  him.  A  longing,  that  seemed  to  drown 
him  in  the  flood  of  its  intensity,  rushed  over  his  soul.  He  would 
fly  to  her  presence  and  implon*  lier  to  forgive  the  chant  of  victory 
that  was  rejoicing  over  lier  (;oimtry's  grave  !  Oh,  the  crash  of  that 
stuiniing  harmony,  how  it  maddened  him,  as  kneeling,  he  listened 
to  its  last  exultant  notes  ! 


THE  POLES  AT  VIENNA.  363 

It  was  over,  and  Joseph  scarcely  knew  where  he  was,  until  his 
mother  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder  and  motioned  him  to  rise. 

In  the  great  reception-room,  with  all  the  pomp  of  imperial  splen- 
dor, Maria  Theresa  sat  upon  her  throne  and  received  the  homage  of 
her  new  subjects.  Each  one,  as  he  passed,  knelt  before  the  power- 
ful empress,  and  as  he  rose,  the  chief  marshal  of  the  household 
announced  his  name  and  rank.  The  ceremony  over,  Maria  Theresa 
descended  from  the  throne  to  greet  her  Polish  subjects  in  a  less 
formal  manner.  No  one  possessed  to  a  greater  degi-ee  than  herself 
the  art  of  bewitching  those  whom  she  desired  to  propitiate  ;  and  to- 
day, though  her  youth  and  beauty  were  no  longer  there  to  heighten 
the  charms  of  her  address,  her  elegant  carriage,  her  ever-splendid 
eyes,  and  graceful  affability,  were  as  potent  to  win  hearts  as  ever. 
Discontent  vanished  from  the  faces  of  the  Poles,  and  by  and  by  they 
gathered  into  groups,  in  which  were  mingled  Hungarians,  Italians, 
and  Austrians,  all  the  subjects  of  that  one  great  empress. 

The  majority  of  the  Poles  had  adopted  the  French  costume  of  the 
day.  Few  had  possessed  the  hardihood  to  appear  before  their  new 
sovereign  in  their  rich  national  dress.  Among  these  few  was  an 
old  man  of  tall  stature  and  distinguished  appearance,  who  attracted 
the  attention  of  every  one  present. 

While  his  countrymen  unbent  their  brows  to  the  sunshine  of 
Maria  Theresa's  gracious  words,  he  remained  apart  in  the  recess  of 
a  window.  With  scowling  mien  and  folded  arms,  he  surveyed  the 
company ;  nor  could  the  empress  herself,  obtain  from  him  more 
than  a  haughty  inclination  of  the  head. 

The  emperor  was  conversing  gayly  with  two  Polish  noblemen, 
whose  clieerful  demeanor  bore  evidence  to  the  transitory  nature  of 
their  national  grief,  when  he  observed  this  old  man. 

"  Can  you  tell  me, "  said  he,  "  the  name  of  yonder  proud  and 
angry  nobleman?" 

The  faces  of  the  two  grew  scarlet,  as  following  the  direction  of 
the  emperor's  finger,  they  saw  the  eyes  of  the  old  man  fixed,  with 
scorn,  upon  their  smiling  countenances. 

"That,"  said  one  of  them,  uneasily,  "is  Count  Kannienski." 
"Ah,  the  old  partisan  leader!"  exclaimed  the  emperor.     "As  he 
does  not  seem  inclined  to  come  to  me,  I  will  go  forward  and  greet 
him  myself. " 

So  saying,  Joseph  crossed  over  to  the  window  where  the  old 
count  was  standing.     He  received  him  with  a  cold,  solemn  bow. 

"I  rejoice  to  meet  Count  Kannienski,  and  to  express  to  him  my 
esteem  for  his  character,"  began  the  emperor,  reaching  out  his 
hand. 

The  count  did  not  appear  to  perceive  the  gesture,  and  merely 
made  a  silent  bow.     But  Joseph  would  not  be  deterred  from  his 
purpose  by  a  hauteur  which  he  knew  very  well  how  to  excuse. 
"Is  this  your  first  visit  to  Vienna?"  asked  he. 
"  My  first  and  last  visit,  sire. " 
"Are  you  pleased  with  the  Austrian  capital?" 
"  No,  your  majesty,  Vienna  does  not  please  me. " 
The  emperor  smiled.     Instead  of  being  irritated  at  the  haughti- 
ness with   which  his  advances  were  met,  he  felt  both  respect  and 
sympathy  for  the  noble  old  man  who  disdained  to  conceal  his  dis- 
content from  the  eyes  of  the  sovereign  himself. 

"  I  wonder  that  you  do  not  like  Vienna.     It  has  great  attractions 


364  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

for  strangers,  and  yoii  meet  so  many  of  your  countrymen  here  just 
now  ! — there  were  never  as  many  Poles  in  Vienna  before. " 

An  angry  glance  shot  athwart  the  face  of  the  old  man.  "There 
were  many  more  w^hen  John  Sobieski  delivered  Vienna  from  the 
hands  of  her  enemies, "  said  he.  "  But  that  is  almost  a  hundred 
years  ago,  and  the  memory  of  princes  does  not  extend  so  far  to  the 
obligations  of  the  past.*  But,"  continued  he,  more  courteously, 
"  I  did  not  come  here  to  speak  of  my  country.  We  must  be  resigned 
to  the  fate  apportioned  to  us  by  Providence,  and  you  see  how  readily 
my  countrymen  adapt  themselves  to  the  vicissitudes  of  their  national 
life." 

"  And  yet,  count,  their  smiles  are  less  pleasing  to  me  than  your 
frowns.  In  spite  of  the  present,  I  cherish  the  past,  and  honor  those 
who  mourn  over  the  misfortunes  of  their  native  land." 

The  old  man  was  touched,  and  looked  at  the  handsome,  expres- 
sive face  of  the  emperor.  "Sire,"  said  he,  sadly,  "if  Stanislaus  had 
resembled  you,  Poland  would  have  been  free.  But  I  have  not  come 
hither  to-day  to  whine  over  the  unalterable  past.  Nor  did  I  come 
to  pay  homage  to  the  empress. " 

"  Nevertheless  the  empress  would  rejoice  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  brave  Count  Kannienski.  Allow  me,  count,  to  present 
you. " 

Kannienski  shook  his  gray  locks.     "No,  sire,  I  came  to  Vienna 
purely  for  the  sake  of  a  woman  who  will  die  under  the  weight  of 
tliis  day's  anguish.     I  came  to  console  her  with  what  poor  consola- 
tion I  have  to  bestow." 
'     "Is  she  a  Pole?"  asked  Joseph,  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  sire ;  she  is  the  last  true-hearted  Polish  woman  left  on 
earth,  and  I  fear  she  is  about  to  die  upon  the  grave  of  her  father- 
land." 

" May  I  ask  her  name?" 

"Countess  Anna  Wielopolska.  She  it  is  who  sent  me  to  the 
palace,  and  I  came  because  she  asked  of  me  one  last  friendly  service. " 

"You  bring  me  a  message?"  faltered  the  emperor. 

"The  countess  begs  to  remind  the  emperor  of  the  jiromise  he 
made  on  the  day  when  the  empress  signed  the  act  of — " 

"  I  remember, "  interrupted  the  emperor. 

"She  asks,  if  mindful  of  his  promise,  he  will  visit  her  to-morrow 
afternoon  at  six  o'clock." 

"Where  shall  I  find  her?" 

"  In  the  very  same  room  which  she  occupied  before.  I  have  de- 
livered my  message.  Your  majesty  will,  therefore,  permit  me  to 
withdraw." 

He  bowed  and  turned  away.  Slowly  and  proudly  he  made  his 
way  through  the  giddy  crowd,  without  a  word  of  recognition  for 
the  frivolous  Poles  who  saluted  him  as  he  passed. 

"  He  is  the  last  Polish  hero,  as  she  is  the  last  Polish  heroine, " 
sighed  tlie  emperor,  as  he  followed  the  old  man  witla  liis  eyes. 
"Our  destiny  is  accomplished.     She  would  bid  me  a  last  farewell." 

*  This  whole  conversation  is  historical.  It  was  often  related  by  the  emperor,  who 
said  that  he  had  been  so  touched  by  Count  Kannienski's  patriotism  and  boldness, 
that  but  for  the  fear  of  a  repulse,  he  would  have  embraced  him.  Swinburne,  vol.  i., 
page  349. 


THE  LAST  FAREWELL.  365 


CHAPTER    XC. 

THE  LAST  FAREWELL. 

Countess  Anna  Wielopolska  was  alone  in  her  room,  which, 
like  herself,  was  decked  to  receive  some  great  and  distinguished 
guest.  A  rich  carpet  covered  the  floor,  flowers  bloomed  in  costly 
vases,  the  piano  was  opened,  and  the  music  on  the  stand  showed 
that  the  countess  still  found  consolation  in  her  genius.  But  she 
herself  was  strangely  altered  since  the  day  on  which  she  had  thrown 
her  bouquet  to  the  emperor  in  Neustadt.  Nevertheless  she  wore  the 
same  dress  of  black  velvet,  the  same  jewels,  and  in  her  bosom  the 
same  bouquet  of  white  roses,  bound  with  a  long  scarlet  ribbon. 

Her  heart  beat  high,  and  her  anxious  eyes  wandered  to  the  little 
bronze  clock  that  stood  upon  a  console  opposite.  The  clock  struck 
six,  and  her  pale  cheek  flushed  with  anticipated  happiness. 

"It  is  the  hour,"  said  she.  "I  shall  see  him  once  more."  And 
as  she  spoke,  a  carriage  stopped,  and  she  heard  his  step  within  the 
vestibule  below.  Trembling  in  every  limb,  she  approached  the 
door,  and  bent  her  ear  to  listen. 

"Yes,  he  comes, "  whispered  she,  while,  witli  a  gesture  of  ex- 
treme agitation,  she  drew  from  her  pocket  a  little  case,  whence  she 
took  a  tiny  flask,  containing  a  transparent,  crimson  liquid.  She 
held  it  for  a  few  seconds  to  the  light,  and  now  she  could  hear  the 
sound  of  his  voice,  as  he  spoke  with  Matuschka  in  the  anteroom. 
The  steps  came  nearer  and  nearer  yet. 

"  It  is  time, "  murmured  she  ;  and  hastily  moving  the  golden 
capsule  that  covered  the  vial,  she  put  it  to  her  lips  and  drank  it  to 
the  last  drop. 

"One  hour  of  happiness,"  said  she,  replacing  the  vial  in  her 
pocket,  and  hastening  back  to  the  door. 

It  was  opened,  and  the  emperor  entered  the  room.  Anna  met 
him  with  both  hands  outstretched,  and  smiled  with  unmistakable 
love  as  he  came  forward  to  greet  her.  Silent,  but  with  visible 
agitation,  the  emperor  looked  into  those  eyes,  which  were  already 
resplendent  with  the  glory  of  approaching  death.  Long  they  gazed 
upon  each  other  without  a  word,  yet  speaking  love  with  eyes  and 
lips. 

Suddenly  the  empei'or  dropped  her  hands,  and  laying  his  own 
gently  upon  her  cheeks,  he  drew  down  her  head,  and  rested  it  upon 
his  breast.     She  left  it  there,  and  looked  up  with  a  tender  smile. 

"  Do  not  speak,  love, "  said  he.  "  I  am  an  astrologer,  who  looks 
into  his  heaven  to  read  the  secrets  there.  And,  oh,"  sighed  he, 
after  he  had  gazed  for  a  time,  "I  see  sorrow  and  suffering  written 
upon  that  snowy  brow.  Tears  have  dimmed  the  splendor  of  my 
stars,  but  they  have  not  been  able  to  lessen  their  beauty.  I  know 
you  again,  my  queen  of  the  night,  as  you  first  appeared  to  me  at 
Neustadt.     You  are  still  the  same  proud  being,  Anna." 

"No,  dearest,  no.  I  am  a  trembling  woman,  craving  nothing 
from  earth  save  the  glance  of  my  beloved,  and  the  privilege  of 
dying  in  his  embrace." 

"  She  who  loves,  desires  to  live  for  her  lover, "  said  he,  pressing 
her  again  and  again  to  his  heart. 


366  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Death  is  the  entrance  to  eternal  life,  and  she  who  truly  loves 
will  love  throughovit  eternitj-." 

"  Speak  not  of  death  in  this  hour  of  ecstasy,  when  I  have  found 
you  once  more  as  I  had  pictured  you  in  dreams.  Oh,  Anna,  Anna  ! 
will  you  part  me  from  you  again?  Have  you  indeed  brought  me 
hither  to  cheat  me  with  visions  of  love,  and  then  to  say  farewell, 
forever !" 

"No,  Joseph,  I  bid  you  eternal  welcome.  Oh,  my  lover,  my  soul 
has  gone  forth  to  meet  yours,  and  nothing  shall  ever  part  us  again.  '" 

"And  are  you  mine  at  last!"  cried  Joseph,  kissing  her  passion- 
ately. "  Has  the  statue  felt  the  ray  of  love,  and  uttered  its  first 
sweet  sound?  Oh,  how  I  longed  to  hear  that  sound  !  I  have  gone 
about  by  day,  wearing  the  weiglit  of  sovereignty  upon  my  fainting 
shoulders;  and  by  night  I  have  wept  like  a  lovesick  boj-  for  your 
sake,  Anna ;  but  no  one  suspected  it.  No  one  knew  that  the  em- 
peror was  unhappy . " 

"I  knew  it, "  whispered  she — "I  knew  it ;  for  your  sorrows  have 
all  been  mine." 

"No,  no!"  cried  Joseph,  awaking  from  his  dream  of  bliss,  "you 
told  me  that  Poland  was  dearer  to  you  than  I.  I  remember  it  now  ! 
You  refused  me  your  hand,  and  forsook  me  for  the  sake  of  your 
country." 

"But,  now,  beloved,"  said  she,  clinging  to  him,  "now  I  am  but 
a  woman — a  woman  wlio  abandons  her  fatherland  witli  all  its 
memories,  and  asks  but  one  blessing  of  Heaven — the  blessing  of 
living  and  dying  in  her  lover's  arms." 

"Oh,  if  you  would  not  kill  me,  speak  no  more  of  dying,  Anna! 
Now  you  are  mine — mine  for  life  ;  and  my  heart  leaps  with  joy  as 
it  did  when  first  I  heard  your  heavenly  voice.  Let  me  hear  it  once 
more.     Sing  to  me,  my  treasure. " 

She  went  to  the  liarpsichord,  and  the  emperor  bent  over  her, 
smiling  as  he  watched  the  motion  of  her  graceful  hands  upon  the 
keys.  She  struck  a  few  full  chords,  and  then  glided  into  a  melody 
of  melancholy  sweetness.  The  emperor  listened  attentively  ;  then, 
suddenly  smiling,  he  recognized  the  song  which  she  had  sung  be- 
fore the  King  of  Prussia  and  himself. 

The  words  were  different  now.  The}'  represented  Poland  as  a 
beggared  queen,  wandering  from  door  to  door,  repulsed  by  all.  She 
is  starving,  but  she  remembers  that  death  will  release  her  from 
shame  and  hunger. 

The  countess  was  singing  these  lines — 

"  If  life  to  her  hath  brought  disgrace. 
Honor  returns  with  death's  embrace " 

when  she  stopped  and  her  hands  fell  powerless  from  the  instrument. 
Tlie  emperor  i-aised  lier  head,  and  saw  wtih  alarm  that  her  face  was 
tlistorted  by  pain.  Without  a  word,  he  took  lier  in  his  arms,  and, 
(tarrying  her  across  the  room,  laid  her  gently  upon  the  sofa.  She 
raised  her  loving  eyes  to  his,  and  tried  to"  steal  her  arm  arotmd  liis 
neck,  but  it  fell  lieavily  to  her  side.  Joseph  saw  it,  and  a  pang  of 
apprehension  shook  his  manly  frame. 

"Anna!"  groaned  he,  "what  means  this?" 
"Honor  retvu-ns  with  death's  embrace,"  whispered  she. 
The  emperor  uttered  a  savage  cry,  and  raised  his  despairing  arms 
to  heaven.     "And  it  was  false,"  cried  he,  almost  mad  with  grief — 


THE  LAST  FAREWELL.  367 

"  it  was  false !  She  had  not  forgotten  Poland.  Oh,  cruel,  cruel 
Anna  !"  and  he  sobbed  piteously,  while  she  strove  to  put  her  trem- 
bling hand  upon  his  head. 

•'  Cruel  to  myself,  Joseph,  for  I  have  just  begun  to  value  life. 
But  I  swore  to  my  mother  that  I  would  not  outlive  the  disgrace  of 
Poland  ;  and  you  would  have  ceased  to  love  me  had  I  violated  my 
oath.  Forgive  the  pain  I  inflict  upon  you,  dearest.  I  longed  for 
one  single  hour  of  happiness,  and  I  have  found  it  here.  With  my 
dying  breath  I  bless  you. " 

"Is  there  no  remedy?"  asked  he,  scarcely  able  to  speak. 

"  None, "  said  she,  with  a  fluttering  smile.  "  I  obtained  the  poison 
from  Cagliostro.  Nay — dear  one,  do  not  weep  ;  you  see  tliat  I  could 
not  live.  Oh,  do  not  hide  your  face  from  me ;  let  me  die  with  my 
eyes  fixed  upon  yours  !" 

"And,"  cried  Joseph,  "must  I  live  forever?" 

"You  must  live  for  your  subjects — live  to  be  great  and  good,  yet 
ever  mistrusted,  ever  misunderstood.  But  onward,  my  prince,  and 
the  blessing  of  God  be  upon  you  !  Think,  too,  that  the  Poles,  my 
brethren,  are  among  your  subjects,  and  promise  me  to  love  and 
cherish  them?" 

"  I  promise. " 

"Try  to  reconcile  them  to  their  fate — do  not  return  their  ill-will ; 
swear  to  me  that  you  will  be  clement  to  my  countrj^men?" 

"I  swear!  I  swear  to  respect  their  misfortunes,  and  to  make 
them  happy !" 

One  last,  beaming  smile  illuminated  her  face.  "  Thank  you — 
dearest,"  said  she,  with  difticulty.  "My  spirit  shall  look  out  from 
the  eye  of  every  Pole,  to  whom  you  will  have  given — one  moment — 
of  joy  !     Oh,  what  agony  !     Farewell !" 

One  more  look — one  shudder — and  all  was  still. 

The  emperor  fell  upon  his  knees  by  the  body,  and  prayed  long 
and  fervently.  The  little  clock  struck  seven.  The  hour  of  happiness 
had  passed  away  forever. 

The  following  day,  Joseph,  pale,  but  perfectly  calm,  sought  an 
interview  with  his  mother. 

"I  come  to  ask  leave  of  absence  of  your  majesty,"  said  he, 
languidly. 

"Leave  of  absence,  my  son?  Do  you  wish  to  travel  again  so 
soon  ?" 

"  I  must  ti-avel,  your  majesty.  I  must  make  a  journey  to  Galicia, 
to  become  acquainted  with  our  new  subjects. " 

"  Perhaps  it  might  be  as  well  for  us  to  show  them  some  considera- 
tion at  this  period.  I  had  already  thought  of  this  ;  but  I  have  been 
told  that  Galicia  is  rather  an  uncivilized  country,  and  that  the 
people  are  ill-disposed  toward  us. " 

"  We  cannot  expect  them  to  love  their  oppressors,  your  majesty. " 

"No — but  it  is  a  dreadful  country.  No  roads — no  inns — miles 
and  miles  of  uninhabited  woods,  infested  by  robbers.  Oh,  my  son, 
postpone  your  journey  to  a  milder  season  !  I  shall  be  trembling  for 
your  safety. " 

"  There  is  no  danger,  your  majesty.  Give  me  your  consent ;  I 
am  very,  veiy  desirous  of  visiting  Poland." 

"But  no  vehicle  can  travel  there  at  this  time  of  year,  my 
son. " 

"I  will  go  on  horseback,  your  majesty." 


368  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"But  where  will  you  get  provisions,  Joseph?  Where  will  you 
rest  at  night?" 

"I  will  rest  wherever  night  overtakes  me,  either  in  a  cottage, 
on  my  horse,  or  on  the  ground.  And  as  for  food,  mother,  if  there 
is  food  for  our  people,  there  will  be  some  for  me  ;  and  if  there  should 
be  scarcity,  it  is  but  just  that  I  should  share  their  hardships.  Let 
me  go,  I  entreat  you. " 

"Go,  then,  my  son,  and  God's  blessing  be  with  you,"  said  the 
empress,  kissing  her  son's  forehead. 

•'Joseph!"  said  she,  as  he  was  leaving  the  room,  "have  you 
heard  that  the  poor  young  Countess  Anna  has  committed  suicide  on 
account  of  the  troubles  in  Poland?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty,"  replied  Joseph,  without  flinching. 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  defer  your  journey  for  a  day  to  attend 
her  funeral.  All  the  Poles  will  be  there  ;  and  as  we  both  knew  and 
admired  her,  I  think  it  would  propitiate  our  new  subjects  if  we 
gave  some  public  mark  of  sympathy  by  following  the  body  to  the 
grave.  I  have  forbidden  mention  to  be  made  of  the  manner  of  her 
death,  that  she  may  not  be  denied  a  resting-place  within  conse- 
crated ground. " 

How  she  probed  his  wound  until  the  flesh  quivered  with  agony  ! 

"The  Countess  Wielopolska  is  not  to  be  interred  in  Austria,  your 
majesty, "  said  he.  "  Count  Kannienski  will  accompany  the  body 
to  Poland.  Near  Cracow  there  is  a  mound  wherein  it  is  said  that 
Wanda,  the  first  Queen  of  Poland,  was  buried.  Anna  Wielopolska 
will  share  her  tomb.  Her  heroic  spirit  could  rest  nowhere  save  in 
Poland.  When  I  visit  Cracow  I  will  go  thither  to  plant  flowers 
upon  her  grave,  that  the  white  i-oses  she  loved  may  grow  from  the 
consecrated  earth  that  lies  upon  her  heart. " 


CHAPTER     XCI. 

THE    CONCERT. 

Therese  Paradies  was  to  give  a  concert,  the  first  at  which  she 
had  performed  since  the  restoration  of  her  sight.  Of  course,  tlie 
hall  was  thronged,  for  in  spite  of  the  incontrovertible  fact  itself, 
and  of  its  corroboration  by  the  Paradies  family,  there  were  two 
parties  in  Vienna — one  who  believed  in  the  cure,  and  the  other  wlio 
(lid  not.  Those  who  did  not,  doubted  upon  the  respectable  testi- 
mony of  Professor  Earth,  Doctor  Ingeuhaus,  and  the  entire  faculty, 
who,  one  and  all,  protested  against  the  shameful  imposition  which 
Mesmer  was  practising  upon  an  enlightened  public. 

The  audience,  therefore,  was  less  interested  in  Therese 's  music, 
wonderful  as  it  was,  than  in  her  eyes  ;  for  her  father  had  announced 
that  during  the  pauses  Therese  would  prove  to  the  incredulous  that 
her  cure  was  no  deception. 

Professor  Earth,  Doctor  Ingenhaus,  and  the  astronomer  were 
there  in  the  front  row,  sneering  away  the  convictions  of  all  who 
were  within  hearing.  Herr  Paradies  now  appeared,  and  as  he  stood 
reckoning  the  profits  that  were  to  gladden  his  pockets  on  that  event- 
ful evening.  Earth  left  his  seat  and  approached  him. 

"You  really  believe,  do  you,  that  your  daughter  sees  ?"  said  the 
professor. 


THE  CONCERT.  369 

"  She  sees  as  well  as  I  do.  Were  you  not  there  to  witness  it 
yourself  when  her  bandage  was  removed?" 

"  I  humored  the  jest  to  see  how  far  the  impudence  of  Mesmer  and 
the  credulity  of  his  admirers  would  travel  together.  I  hear  curious 
accounts  of  your  daughter's  mistakes,  granting  her  the  use  of  her 
eyesight.  It  is  said  that  some  one  presented  her  a  flower,  when, 
looking  at  it,  she  remarked,  '  What  a  pretty  star  !'  And  did  she  not 
put  a  hair-jiin  in  her  mother's  cheek  while  trying  to  fasten  her  hair?" 

"  Yes,  she  did  both  these  things,  but  I  think  they  prove  her  to  be 
making  awkward  use  of  a  new  faculty.  She  is  not  likely  to  know 
the  name  of  a  thing  \\dien  she  sees  it  for  the  first  time  ;  neither  has 
she  learned  to  appreciate  distances.  Objects  quite  close  to  her  she 
sometimes  stumbles  upon,  and  those  out  of  reach  she  puts  out  her 
hand  to  take.  All  this  will  correct  itself,  and  when  Therese  has  be- 
come as  familiar  with  prospective  illusions  as  the  rest  of  us,  she 
will  go  out  into  the  streets,  and  the  world  will  be  convinced." 

"  You  really  believe  it,  then  ?" 

"I  am  as  convinced  of  it  as  that  I  see  myself." 

"It  is  very  disinterested  of  you  to  publish  it,"  said  the  professor, 
looking  significantly  at  the  happy  father.  "  This  acknowledgment 
will  cost  you  a  considerable  sum. " 

"  How?"  asked  Von  Paradies,  frightened.     "  I  do  not  understand. " 

"It  is  very  simple,  nevertheless, "  said  the  professor,  carelessly. 
"Does  the  empress  give  your  daughter  a  pension?" 

"Certainly.     You  know  she  does,  and  a  handsome  one,  too." 

"  Of  course  it  is  lost  to  her, "  replied  Barth,  enjoying  the  sudden 
paleness  which  overspread  the  radiant  face  of  Von  Paradies.  "A 
girl  who  sees  has  no  right  to  the  money  which  is  given  to  the  blind  ; 
and  I  heard  Von  Stork  tliis  very  day  saj'ing  that  as  soon  as  it  was 
proved  that  your  daughter  could  see,  he  intended  to  apply  to  the  em- 
press for  her  pension  in  behalf  of  another  party. " 

"But  this  pension  is  our  chief  support ;  it  enables  us  to  live  very 
comfortably.     If  it  were  withdrawn,  I  should  be  a  beggar." 

"That  would  not  alter  the  case.  Pensions  are  granted  to  those 
who  by  their  misfortunes  have  a  claim  upon  the  public  charitj\ 
The  claim  dies  from  the  nioment  that  your  daughter's  infirmity  is 
removed.  Through  the  favor  of  the  empress  she  has  become  a  scien- 
tific musician,  and  this  now  must  be  her  capital.  She  can  teach 
music  and  give  concerts  " 

"  But  that  will  not  maintain  us  respectably, "  urged  Von  Paradies, 
with  increasing  uneasiness. 

"Of  course  it  will  not  maintain  jou  as  you  live  with  your  hand- 
some pension.  But  you  need  not  starve.  Be  that  as  it  may,  there 
is  a  blind  countess  who  is  my  patient,  for  whom  Von  Stork  is  to 
obtain  the  pension  as  soon  as  you  can  convince  the  faculty  that  your 
daughter  is  no  longer  in  need  of  it.  This  patient,  I  assure  you,  will 
receive  it  as  long  as  she  lives,  for  it  will  never  enter  into  her  head 
to  fancy  that  she  has  been  cured  by  Master  Mesmer. " 

"But,  my  dear  prof essor, "  entreated  Von  Paradies,  "have  mercy 
on  me  and  my  family  !  For  sixteen  years  we  have  received  this  in- 
come, and  it  had  been  secured  to  us  during  Therese's  lifetime." 

"  Nevertheless,  it  goes  to  the  countess,  if  she  is  not  blind,  T  tell 
you.  The  empress  (so  says  Von  Stork)  has  never  refused  a  requesr 
of  his,  because  he  never  asks  any  thing  but  that  which  is  just  and 
reasonable" 


370  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  We  are  ruined  !"  exclaimed  Von  Paradies,  in  accents  of  despair. 

"Not  unless  you  prove  to  us  that  your  daughter  is  not  deceiving 
you, "  replied  Barth,  with  sharp  emphasis.  "If  you  can  show  her 
to  be  blind,  you  are  saved  ;  and  Von  Stork  would  petition  the  em- 
press, in  consideration  of  the  shameful  imposition  practised  upon 
your  paternal  love,  to  increase  the  pension.  Weil — this  evening's 
entertainment  will  decide  the  matter.     Meanwhile,  adieu  !" 

The  professor  lounged  back  to  his  seat,  leaving  his  poisoned 
arrow  behind. 

"I  think, "said  Barth,  smiling,  as  he  saw  the  victim  writhe, 
•'that  I  have  given  him  a  receipt  for  his  daughter's  eyes  that  will 
be  naore  potent  than  Mesmer's  passes.  It  will  never  do  to  restore 
the  age  of  mii-acles. " 

"  No,  indeed  ;  if  miracles  are  to  make  their  appearance  upon  the 
stage  of  this  world,  what  becomes  of  science?"  asked  Ingenhaus. 

"  Let  us  await  the  end  of  the  farce, "  said  the  professor.  "  Here 
she  comes. " 

A  murmur  went  through  the  hall  as  Therese  entered.  The  guests 
rose  from  their  seats  to  obtain  a  sight  of  her.  They  had  known  her 
from  infancy  ;  but  to-night  she  was  an  object  of  new  and  absorbing 
interest,  even  to  the  elegant  crowd,  who  seldom  condescended  to  be 
astonished  at  any  thing. 

Therese  seemed  to  feel  her  position,  for  whereas  she  had  been 
accustomd  to  trip  into  the  concert-room  with  perfect  self-possession, 
she  now  came  timidly  forward,  with  downcast  eyes.  The  audience 
had  always  received  her  with  enthusiasm,  for  she  was  a  great 
artiste ;  but  now  perfect  silence  greeted  her  entrance,  for  nothing 
was  remembered,  save  the  marvel  which  her  appearance  there  was  to 
attest. 

Whether  accidentally  or  intentionally,  several  chairs  were  in  her 
way  as  she  passed  to  the  instrument.  She  avoided  them  with  per- 
fect confidence,  scarcely  brushing  them  with  the  folds  of  her  white 
satin  dress. 

"She  is  cured  !  She  is  no  longer  blind  !"  murmured  the  specta- 
tors ;  and  with  renewed  curiosity,  they  watched  her  every  motion. 

There  were  three  people  within  the  concert-room  upon  whom 
these  murmurs  produced  profound  and  dissimilar  impressions. 

Barth  frowned  angrily  ;  Von  Paradies  grew  paler  and  trembled 
like  a  coward  as  he  was ;  while  Mesmer,  who  leaned  against  a 
pillar,  fixed  his  eyes  upon  Therese  witli  a  glance  of  supreme  happi- 
ness. Therese  returned  the  glance  with  one  of  such  deep  trust  and 
love,  that  no  one  who  saw  it  could  doubt  her  power  of  vision.  The 
audience  burst  out  into  one  simultaneous  storm  of  applause,  and 
this  reminded  the  young  gii-1  that  she  was  not  alone  with  her  "mas- 
ter. "  She  raised  her  eyes  for  the  first  time  toward  the  spectators, 
and  met  every  glance  directed  toward  herself. 

The  sight  of  this  sea  of  upturned  faces  so  terrified  the  poor 
child,  that  she  felt  faint  and  dizzy.  She  groped  about  with  her 
Iiands,  to  find  a  seat,  for  she  could  scarcely  stand. 

The  action  attracted  univei'sal  attention.  A  significant  look 
passed  between  Von  Paradies  and  Barth,  while  Mesmer's  brow 
darkened,  and  his  face  flushed  with  disappointment.  It  was  very 
unfortunate — tliat  faintness  of  Therese. 

She  stood  in-esokite  and  alone,  unable  to  advance,  and  too  weak 
to  see  the  chair  that  stood  close  at  hand. 


THE  CONCERT.  371 

For  some  time,  the  audience  surveyed  her  with  breathless 
interest.     Suddenly  the  silence  was  broken  by  a  voice  in  the  crowd  : 

"Will  no  one  take  pity  upon  the  girl  and  lead  her  to  the  harpsi- 
chord?   Do  you  not  see  that  she  is  as  blind  as  ever?" 

Therese  recovered  herself  when  she  heard  these  insulting  words, 
and  her  ej^es  flashed  strangely  for  eyes  that  could  not  see. 

"I  am  not  blind  !"  cried  she,  in  a  clear,  firm  voice,  and  as  if  the 
sneer  had  restored  her  strength  and  self-possession,  she  came  for- 
ward at  once,  and  took  her  seat. 

The  audience  applauded  a  second  time,  and  Therese  bowed  and 
smiled.  While  she  drew  ofi"  her  gloves,  she  looked  back  at  Mesmer, 
who  returned  the  glance  with  one  of  affectionate  pride. 

Scarcely  knowing  what  she  did,  Therese  began  to  play.  She 
kept  her  eyes  fixed  upon  Mesmer,  and  as  she  felt  the  power  of  his 
magnetic  glance,  she  soared  into  heights  of  harmony  that  ravished 
the  ears  of  her  listeners,  and  left  all  her  previous  performances  far 
behind. 

She  ended  with  a  sigh,  as  though  awaking  from  some  heavenly 
dream.  Never  had  she  been  so  enthusiastically  applauded  as  now. 
This  time  it  was  not  her  vision,  but  her  incomparable  skill  which 
had  elicited  the  acclamations  of  the  public  ;  and  Therese,  happy  in 
her  success,  bowed,  and  smiled  again  upon  her  admirers. 

And  now  the  artistic  exhibition  was  at  an  end.  Herr  von  Para- 
dies,  advancing,  informed  the  public,  that  they  would  now  proceed 
to  test  the  genuineness  of  his  daughter's  cure.  He  then  came  to 
the  edge  of  the  platform,  and  spoke  in  a  loud,  distinct  voice :  "  I 
request  tlie  distinguished  companj',  who  have  brought  books  or 
music  for  the  purpose,  to  hand  them  to  me,  that  we  may  discover 
whether  in  truth  she  sees,  or  imagines  that  she  sees.  I  beg  so  much 
the  more  for  your  attention,  ladies  and  gentlemen, "  continued  he, 
in  a  faltering  voice,  "that  this  night  is  to  decide  a  fearful  doubt  in 
my  own  mind.  Doctor  Mesmer  affirms  that  my  daughter's  vision 
has  been  restored.     I,  alas  !  believe  that  she  is  yet  blind  !" 

The  audience  expressed  astonishment ;  Therese  uttered  a  cry  of 
horror,  and  turned  to  Mesmer,  who,  pale  and  stunned  by  the  shock 
of  her  father's  cruel  words,  had  lost  all  power  to  come  to  the  poor 
child's  assistance. 

Barth  was  laughing  behind  his  pocket-handkerchief.  "The 
remedy  works, "  whispered  he  to  Ingenhaus — "  the  remedy  works. " 

Two  gentlemen  arose.  One  handed  a  book,  the  other  a  sheet  of 
music.  As  Von  Paradies  turned  the  book  over  to  his  daughter,  she 
gave  him  a  reproachful  look.  She  opened  it  and  read:  "Emilia 
Galotti,  by  Gotthold  Ephraim  Lessing. " 

"And,  now,"  continued  she,  "if  one  of  the  ladies  present  will 
select  a  passage,  and  another  will  look  over  me  as  I  read,  the  audi- 
ence can  thus  convince  themselves  that  I  see. " 

One  of  the  most  distinguished  ladies  in  Vienna  approached 
Therese  and  stood  close  by  her  side,  while  another,  a  celebrated 
actress,  requested  her  to  open  the  book  at  page  71. 

Therese  turned  over  the  leaves  and  found  the  place. 

"That  is  right,  my  love,"  said  the  countess.     "Now  read." 

Therese  began  to  read,  and  when  she  ended,  the  excitement  of 
the  people  knew  no  bounds. 

"She  sees  !     She  sees  !"  cried  tlie  people.     "Who  can  doubt  it?" 

And  now  from  the  crowd  arose  a  voice ; 


372  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"We  have  enough  proof.  The  fact  is  self-evident,  and  we  may- 
all  congratulate  the  frmilein  upon  the  recovery  of  her  sight.  Let 
us  have  more  of  her  delightful  music. " 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  agree  with  Doctor  Mesmer's  invisible 
patron,"  said  Von  Paradies.  "I  strive  to  forget  that  I  am  her 
father,  and  place  myself  on  the  side  of  the  incredulous  public,  who 
have  a  right  to  demand  whether  indeed  the  days  of  miracles  have 
returned. " 

"  My  remedy  does  wonders, "  said  Barth  to  the  faculty. 

Herr  von  Paradies  continued  :  "  This  being  the  case,  it  is  easier 
for  us  to  suppose  that  the  distinguished  actress,  who  selected  the 
page,  lias  been  requested  to  do  so,  than  to  believe  that  my  daughter 
has  seen  the  words  just  read  ;  for  this  lady  is  known  to  be  a  follower 
of  Doctor  Mesmer.  Perhaps  the  countess  did  not  remark  that  the 
corner  of  the  leaf  is  slightly  turned  down. " 

He  took  the  book  and  passed  the  leaves  rapidly  over  his  thumb. 

"  Here  it  is, "  said  he,  holding  it  up. 

"Father  !'■  exclaimed  Therese,  indignantly,  "I  saw  yovi  turn  the 
leaf  a  few  minutes  ago  with  your  own  hand. " 

"Saw!"  cried  Von  Paradies,  raising  his  hands.  Then  turning 
to  the  audience,  he  continued  :  "As  regards  this  book,  it  was  handed 
to  me  just  now  by  Baron  von  Horka,  one  of  Mesmer's  most  devoted 
adherents.  He  may  have  been  commissioned  to  select  this  particular 
work,  and  Therese  may  be  aware  of  it.  If  I  am  thus  stringent  in 
my  acceptance  of  the  evidence  in  this  case,  it  is  because  I  long  to 
possess  the  sweet  assurance  of  my  dear  child's  complete  cure." 

"Hear  him,"  laughed  Barth,  touching  Ingenhaus  on  the  elbow. 

Therese,  meanwhile,  was  growing  embarrassed  ;  and,  looking  to 
Mesmer  for  encouragement  she  lost  sight  of  every  thing  under  the 
influence  of  his  eyes.  Her  father  held  the  paper  before  her,  but  she 
was  not  aware  of  it.  The  audience  whispered,  but  Mesmer  at  that 
moment,  turning  away  from  Therese,  she  sighed,  and,  recovering 
her  self-possession,  took  tlie  paper  and  placed  it  before  the  harpsi- 
chord. 

"March,  from  'CEdipus, '"  said  she,  seating  herself  before  the 
instrument. 

"  Why,  Therese, "  cried  her  father,  "  you  read  the  title  without 
turning  to  the  title-page." 

"  I  saw  the  piece  when  it  was  handed  to  you  by  Ritter  Gluck. " 

"You  are  acquainted  with  Gluck?"  asked  Von  Paradies.     "He 
has  never  been  to  our  house. " 
■.     "I  have  seen  him  at  Doctor  Mesmer's,"  replied  Therese. 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  Ritter  Gluck,  who  hands  the  music,  is  like  Baron 
von  Horka,  who  brought  the  book,  a  friend  of  Mesmer's,"  said  Von 
Paradies,  with  a  sneer  that  affrighted  his  daughter  and  made  her 
ti'emble. 

But  she  placed  her  hands  upon  the  keys  and  began  to  play. 

The  enraptured  audience  again  forgot  her  eyes,  and,  entranced 
by  the  music,  hung  breathless  upon  her  notes,  while  she  executed 
the  magnificent  funeral  march  in  "CEdipus."  Suddenly,  at  the 
conclusion  of  a  passage  of  exquisite  beauty,  she  ceased,  and  her 
hands  wandered  feebly  over  the  keys.  Her  father,  who  was  turn- 
ing the  leaves,  looked  almost  scornfully  at  the  poor  girl ;  who, 
alarmed  and  bewildered  by  his  unaccountable  conduct,  grew  deadly 
pale,  and  finally,  with  a  deep  sigh,  closed  her  eyes. 


THE  CONCERT.  373 

After  a  few  moments  she  began  again.  From  her  agile  fingers 
dropped  showers  of  pearly  notes,  while,  through  all  the  fanciful 
combinations  of  sound,  was  heard  the  solemn  and  majestic  chant  of 
the  funeral  march.  The  audience  could  scarcely  contain  their  rap- 
tures ;  and  yet  they  dared  not  applaud  for  fear  of  losing  a  note. 

She  seemed  to  be  astray  in  a  wilderness  of  harmony,  when  her 
father,  with  an  impatient  gesture,  laid  his  hands  upon  her  fingers 
and  held  them  down. 

''  You  are  no  longer  playing  by  note  !"  exclaimed  he,  with  affected 
surprise.  "  You  are  giving  us  voluntaries  from  '  Orpheus, '  instead  of 
the  funeral  march.  I  appeal  to  the  public  to  say  whether  my 
daughter  is  playing  the  funeral  march?" 

There  was  a  pause,  then  a  voice,  tremulous  with  emotion,  said, 
"  No,  it  is  no  longer  the  funeral  march  ;  it  is  now  a  beautiful  arrange- 
ment from  '  Orpheus. ' " 

Herr  von  Paradies,  with  an  expression  of  profoundest  anguish, 
threw  his  arm  around  his  daughter,  exclaiming,  ''Oh,  my  beloved 
child,  it  is  then  as  I  feared  !  We  have  been  deceived,  and  you  are 
blind  for  life." 

"  Father !"  screamed  Therese,  flinging  him  off ;  "  father,  you 
know — " 

•'  I  know  that  you  are  blind, "  cried  he,  following  her,  and  again 
clasping  her  in  his  arms.  "Come,  my  poor  child,  come,  and  fear 
nothing  !  Your  father  will  work  for  you  ;  and  his  hand  shall  guide 
your  faltering  steps.  Oh,  my  child  !  May  God  forgive  those  who 
have  brought  this  bitter  disappointment  upon  my  head  !  My  dream 
of  hope  is  over.  You  are  blind,  Therese,  hopelessly  blind,  and  your 
father's  heart  is  broken  !" 

The  audience  were  deeply  moved  by  this  outburst  of  paternal 
grief  and  tenderness.  Here  and  there  were  heard  half-audible  mur- 
murs of  sympathy,  and  many  of  the  ladies  had  their  handkerchiefs 
to  their  eyes.  Everybody  was  touched  except  Professor  Barth.  He, 
on  the  contrary,  was  chuckling  with  satisfaction,  and  felt  much 
more  inclined  to  applaud  than  to  commiserate.  He  looked  at 
Ingenhaus,  who,  not  being  in  the  secret,  was  divided  between  sym- 
pathy for  the  father  and  indignation  toward  the  charlatan.  Indeed, 
he  had  so  far  forgotten  his  own  interest  in  the  scene,  that  he  was 
weeping  with  the  rest. 

" Console  yourself ,  my  friend,"  said  Barth,  " all  this  is  the  result 
of  my  efforts  in  behalf  of  science.  I  deserve  a  public  vote  of  thanks 
for  having  out-mesmered  Mesmer." 

He  stopped — for  Therese's  voice  was  heard  in  open  strife  with 
her  father.  "Let  me  go!"  cried  she,  with  passion.  "I  am  not 
blind.  As  God  hears  me,  I  see— but  oh,  how  fearful  have  been  the 
revelations  that  sight  has  made  to  me  this  night !" 

Poor,  poor  Therese !  The  shock  of  her  father's  treachery  had 
proved  too  great  for  her  girlish  frame.  She  reeled  and  fell  back  in- 
sensible in  his  arms. 

Von  Paradies,  with  simulated  anguish,  turned  to  the  audience 
and  bowed  his  stricken  head.  Then  raising  his  daughter  in  his 
arms,  he  carried  her  away  from  the  stage. 


374  JOSEPH   II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    XCII. 

THE   CATASTROPHE. 

Therese  lay  for  several  hours  unconscious,  while  her  mother 
wept,  and  watched  over  her,  and  her  father  stood  by,  sullenly  await- 
ing the  result. 

At  last  she  heaved  a  sigh  and  opened  her  eyes.  "  Where  am  I  ?" 
asked  she,  feebly. 

"  At  home,  darling, "  replied  the  tender  mother,  bending  over 
and  kissing  her. 

"No — I  am  in  the  fearful  concert-room.  Tliey  stare  at  me  with 
those  piercing  daggers  which  men  call  eyes  ;  and  oli,  their  glances 
hurt  me,  mother  !  There  they  sit,  heartlessly  applauding  my  misery, 
because  it  has  shaped  itself  into  music  !  Let  me  go  ;  I  am  strong, 
and  I  SEE !" 

She  attempted  to  rise,  but  her  father  held  her  back.  "  Lie  still, 
my  child,"  said  he,  reproachfully;  "it  is  in  vain  f<jr  you  to  carry 
this  deception  further.  Trust  your  parents,  and  confess  that  you  are 
blind.  Were  it  otherwise,  you  would  not  mistake  your  own  familiar 
chamber  for  the  vast  concert-room.  For  Mesmer's  sake,  you  Jiave 
sought  to  deceive  us,  but  it  is  useless,  for  we  know  that  you  are 
blind. " 

"  You  are  blind — you  are  blind  !"  These  oft-repeated  words 
seemed  fraught  with  a  power  that  almost  made  her  doubt  her  own 
senses.  She  saw,  and  yet  she  felt  as  if  sight  were  receding  from 
lier  eyes. 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  Why  will  my  father  madden  me  !"  cried  the  un- 
happy girl,  rising  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  detain  her,  and  looking 
around  the  room.  ''  Ah— now  I  remember,  I  fainted  "and  was  brought 
home.  Yes,  father,  yes,  I  tell  you  that  I  see, "  cried  she,  wringing 
her  hands,  and  writhing  with  the  agony  he  was  inflicting  upon  her. 
"  I  see  in  tlie  window  the  blue  flower-i;)ot  which  Mesmer  brouglit  me 
yesterday — there  opposite  stands  my  harpsichord,  and  its  black  and 
white  keys  are  beckoning  me  to  come  and  caress  them.  Two  open 
books  lie  upon  the  table,  and  over  it  are  scattered  drawings  and 
engravings.     Oh,  father,  have  I  not  described  things  as  they  are?" 

"Yes,  child — you  have  long  been  familiar  with  this  room,  and 
need  not  the  help  of  eyes  to  describe  it. " 

"And  then,"  continued  she,  "I  see  you  both.  I  see  my  mother's 
dear  face,  tender  as  it  was  when  first  my  eyes  opened  to  the  light  of 
its  love  ;  and,  my  father,  I  see  you  with  the  same  frown  that  terri- 
fied me  in  the  concert-room — the  same  scowl  that  to  my  frightened 
fancy,  seemed  that  of  some  mocking  fiend  who  sought  to  drive  me 
back  to  blindness!  What  is  it,  father?  What  has  changed  you  so 
that  you  love  your  child  no  longer,  and  seek  to  take  the  new  life 
that  God  has  just  bestowed  ?" 

"  God  has  bestowed  nothing  iipon  you,  and  I  will  no  longer  be 
the  tool  of  an  impostor, "  replied  he,  morosely.  "  Am  I  to  be  the 
laughing-stock  of  Vienna,  while  men  of  distinction  see  through  the 
tricks  of  the  charlatan?  I  must  and  will  have  the  strengtli  to  con- 
fess my  folly,  and  to  admit  that  you  are  blind." 

Tlierese  uttered  a  cry,  and  shook  as  though  a  chill  had  seized  her. 
"  O  God,  help  me  !"  murmured  the  poor  girl,  sinking  in  her  mother's 


THE  CATASTROPHE.  375 

outstretched  arms,  and  weeping  piteously.  Suddenly  she  raised  her 
head  and  gradually  lier  face  brightened,  her  cheeks  flushed,  her  lips 
parted  with  a  smile,  and  her  large  expressive  eyes  beamed  witli 
happiness.  Once  more  she  trembled — but  with  joy,  and  leaning  her 
head  upon  her  mother's  shoulder,  she  whispered,  "He  comes." 

The  door  opened,  and  Mesmer's  tall  and  commanding  figure  ad- 
vanced toward  the  group.  Therese  flew  to  meet  him  and  grasped 
his  hands  in  hers. 

"Come,  master,  come  and  shield  me  !  God  be  thanked,  you  are 
here  to  shelter  me.     If  j-ou  leave  again,  I  shall  lo-se  my  sight." 

He  passed  his  hands  lightly  over  her  face,  and  looked  earnestly 
into  her  eyes. 

"You  are  dissatisfied  with  me,  master,"  said  she  anxiously. 
"  You  are  displeased  at  my  childish  behavior.  I  know  that  I  was 
silly  ;  but  when  I  saw  those  multitudinous  heads  so  close  together, 
all  with  eyes  that  were  fixed  on  me  alone,  I  began  again  to  feel 
afraid  of  my  own  race.  It  seemed  as  if  the  walls  were  advancing 
to  meet  me — and  I  retreated  in  terror. " 

"What  confused  you  at  the  harpsichord,  cliild?" 

"  The  sight  of  the  small,  dazzling  notes,  and  the  singular  motions 
of  my  own  fingers.  I  am  so  unaccustomed  to  see,  tliat  hands  and 
notes  appeared  to  be  dancing  a  mad  Morrisco,  until  at  last  I  grew 
confused  and  saw  nothing." 

"  All  this  is  so  natural, "  said  Mesmer  sadh',  "  for  the  seat  of  your 
infirmity  lay  in  the  nerves.  And  now  that  they  require  rest,  j'ou 
are  a  prey  to  agitation  and  to  tears.  Unliapp\-  Therese,  there  are 
some  who  seek  to  plunge  you  back  into  the  darkness  from  whence  I 
have  rescued  you  !" 

She  put  her  arms  upon  his  shoulders  and  sobbed,  "Save  me,  mas- 
ter, save  me — ^I  could  not  bear  blindness  n<nv  !" 

At  the  other  end  of  the  room  stood  Yon  Farad ies  and  his  wife. 
Slie  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  saying  imploringly  : 

"What  signifies  all  this  mystery,  husband?  Why  do  you  torture 
our  little  Therese  so  cruelly?  You  know  that  she  sees  ;  why,  then, 
do  you — " 

"Peace!"  interrupted  Yon  Paradies  angrily.  "If  Therese  does 
not  become  blind  again,  we  shall  lose  our  pension.  '• 

"My  poor  child,"  sobbed  the  mother,  "you  are  lost!" 

"I  have  come  to  your  help,  Therese,"  said  Jlesmer  audibly.  "I 
know  all  that  is  passing  under  this  roof, "  continued  he,  with  a  look 
of  scorn  at  her  parents.  "They  are  trying  to  deprive  you  of  your 
sight,  and  they  well  know  that  excitement  and  weeping  will  destroy 
it.  But  my  name  and  honor  are  linked  with  yoin-  fortunes,  child, 
and  I  shall  struggle  for  both.  I  have  come  to  take  you  to  the  villa 
with  my  other  patients.  You  shall  be  under  my  wife's  care,  and 
will  remain  with  us  until  yovir  eyes  are  fortified  against  nervous 
impressions.     The  carriage  is  at  the  door." 

"I  am  ready  to  go,"  replied  Therese,  joyfully. 

"  I  will  not  sufi'er  her  to  leave  the  house !"  cried  Yon  Paradies, 
striding  angrily  forward.  "  Therese  is  my  daughter,  and  shall  not 
be  torn  from  her  father's  protection." 

"  She  goes  with  me, "  thundered  Mesmer  with  eyes  that  flashed 
lightning,  like  those  of  Olympian  Zeus.  "You  gave  her  to  me  as  a 
patient,  and  until  she  is  cured  she  belongs  to  her  physician." 

He  took  Therese  in  his  arms  and  carried  her  towai'd  the  door 

25 


376  JOSEPH  II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

But  Von   Paradies,    with  a   roar  like  that  of  some  wild  animal, 
placed  himself  before  it  and  defended  the  passage. 

"  Let  me  pass, "  cried  he. 

"Go — but  first  put  down  Therese." 

"No — you  shall  not  deprive  her  of  the  sight  I  have  bestowed." 
With  these  words,  he  raised  his  muscular  right  arm,  and  swinging 
off  Von  Paradies  as  if  he  had  been  a  child,  Mesmer  passed  the  open- 
ing and  stood  outside. 

"Farewell,  and  fear  nothing,"  cried  he,  "for  your  pension  will 
not  be  witlidrawn.  Therese  is  once  more  blind.  But  as  God  is  just, 
I  will  restore  her  again  to  sight !" 

Mesmer,  however,  was  destined  to  be  foiled.  His  enemies  were 
richer  and  more  influential  than  he ;  and  Von  Paradies,  in  mortal 
terror  for  liis  pension,  sustained  them.  Von  Stork  obtained  an 
order,  commanding  the  relinquishment  of  Therese  to  her  natural 
guardians ;  and  her  father,  armed  with  the  document,  went  and 
demanded  his  daughter.  Tlierese  flew  to  Mesmer 's  arms,  and  a 
fearful  scene  ensued.     It  shall  be  described  in  Mesmer' s  own  words. 

"The  father  of  Therese,  resolved  to  carry  her  away  by  main 
force,  ruslied  upon  me  with  an  unsheathed  sword.  I  succeeded  in 
disarming  him,  but  the  mother  and  daugliter  both  fell  insensible  at 
my  feet :  the  former  from  terror,  the  latter  because  her  unnatural 
father  had  hurled  her  against  tlie  wall,  wliere  she  had  struck  lier 
head  with  such  violence  as  to  lose  all  consciousness.  Madame  von 
Paradies  recovered  and  went  home  ;  but  poor  Therese  was  in  a  state 
of  such  nervous  agony  that  she  lost  her  sight  entirely.  I  trembled 
for  her  life  and  reason.  Having  no  desire  to  revenge  myself  upon 
her  parents,  I  did  all  that  I  could  to  save  her.  Herr  von  Paradies, 
sustained  hj  those  who  liad  instigated  him,  filled  Vienna  with  the 
cry  of  persecution.  I  became  an  object  of  universal  contumely,  and 
a  second  order  was  obtained  by  which  I  was  commanded  to  deliver 
Therese  to  her  father. "  * 

From  this  time  Thei'ese  remained  blind,  and  continued  to  give 
concerts  in  Vienna,  as  she  had  done  before.  Barth  and  his  accom- 
plices were_  triumphant ;  and  Mesmer,  disgusted  with  his  country- 
men, left  Vienna,  and  made  his  home  in  Paris. 

Therese  von  Paradies  then,  as  her  father  asserted,  was  blind. 
Whether  she  ever  was  any  thing  else,  remains  to  this  daj'  an  open 
question.  The  faculty  denied  furiously  that  she  had  seen  :  Mesmer's 
friends,  on  the  coutrary,  declared  solemnly  that  she  had  been  re- 
stored by  animal  magnetism  ;  but  that  her  cruel  father,  for  the 
sake  of  tlie  pension,  had  pei'secuted  her,  and  so  succeeded  in  de- 
stroying her  eyesiglit  forever. 

*  Justinus  Kerner,  "  Franz  Anton  Mesmer,"  p.  70. 


MAEIE  AI^TOII^ETTE. 


CHAPTER     XCIII. 

LE  ROI   EST  MORT,   VIVE  LE  ROI  ! 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  tenth  of  May,  1774.  The  palace  of 
Versailles,  the  seat  of  royal  splendor,  was  gloom}^  silent,  and  empty. 
Regality,  erst  so  pleasure-loving  and  voluptuous,  now  lay  with 
crown  all  dim,  and  purple  all  stained,  awaiting  the  last  sigh  of  an 
old,  expiring  king,  whose  demise  was  to  restore  to  it  an  inheritance 
of  youth,  beauty,  and  strength. 

In  one  wing  of  the  palace  royalty  hovered  over  a  youthful  pair, 
as  the  genius  of  hope  ;  in  another  it  fi'owned  upon  the  weak  old 
king  as  the  implacable  angel  of  death. 

Louis  the  Fifteenth  was  balancing  the  great  account  of  his  life — 
a  life  of  luxury,  voluptuousness,  and  supreme  seltishness.  Yielding 
to  the  entreaties  of  his  daughters,  he  had  sent  for  the  Archbisliop  of 
Paris  ;  but  knowing  perfectly  well  that  the  sacraments  of  the  cliurch 
would  not  be  administered  under  a  rof)f  which  was  polluted  by  the 
presence  of  Du  Barry,  the  old  libertine  had  banished  her  to  the 
Chateau  de  Ruelles. 

But  Monseigneur  de  Beaumont  required  something  more  than  this 
of  the  royal  sinner.  He  exacted  that  he  should  make  jjublic  confes- 
sion of  his  scandalous  life  in  presence  of  the  court  to  which  he  had 
given  such  shameful  example.  The  king  had  sti-uggled  against 
such  open  humiliation,  but  the  archbishop  was  firm,  and  the  fear  of 
death  predominating  over  pride,  Louis  consented  to  make  the 
sacrifice. 

For  three  days  the  courtiers  had  hung  about  the  anteroom,  afraid 
to  enter  (for  the  king's  disease  was  small-pox),  yet  afraid  to  take 
flight,  lest  by  some  chance  he  should  recover.  But  now  the  doors 
of  the  royal  apartments  were  flung  wide  open,  and  tliere  was 
great  trepidation  among  the  crowd.  The  archbishop  in  his  canoni- 
cals was  seen  standing  by  the  bed  of  state  ;  on  one  side  of  him  stood 
the  grand  almoner,  and  on  the  other  the  minister,  the  Duke 
d'Aiguillon.  At  the  foot  of  the  bed  knelt  the  daughters  of  the  king, 
who  in  soft  whispers  were  trying  to  comfort  their  miserable  father. 

"  The  king  wishes  to  bid  adieu  to  his  friends !"  cried  the  Duke 
d'Aiguillon,  in  a  loud  voice. 

Here  was  a  dilemma  !  Everybody  was  afraid  of  the  small-pox, 
for  the  handsome  Marquis  de  Letorieres,  whom  Louis  had  insisted 
upon  seeing,  had  just  died  of  the  infection,  and  nobody  desired  to 
follow  him.  And  yet  the  king  might  outlive  this  attack,  and  then 
—what? 

Once  more  the  Duke  d'Aiguillon  called  out  for  the  king's  friends  ; 
and,  treixibling  from  apprehension  of  results  that  might  follow  this 


378  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

latter  contingency,  they  entered  the  chamber  of  death.  The  atmos- 
phere was  fearful.  Not  all  the  fumes  of  the  incense  which  was 
sending  its  vapory  wreaths  to  the  pictured  ceilings  could  overpower 
the  odor  of  approaching  dissolution.  In  vain  the  acolytes  swung 
their  golden  censers — death  was  there,  and  the  scent  of  the  grave. 

Breathless  and  with  compressed  lips  the  king's  friends  listened 
to  his  indistinct  mutterings,  and  looked  upon  his  swollen,  livid, 
blackened  face.  Each  one  had  hurried  by,  and  now  they  all  w^ere 
free  again,  and  were  preparing  to  fly  as  far  as  possible  from  the  in- 
fected spot.  But  the  clear,  solemn  voice  of  the  archbishoi) — that 
voice  which  so  often  had  stricken  terror  to  their  worldly  hearts — 
was  heard  again,  and  he  bade  them  stay. 

"The  king  asks  pardon  of  his  subjects  for  the  wicked  and  scan- 
dalous life  which  he  has  led  on  earth,"  said  the  archbishop.  "Al- 
though as  a  man  he  is  responsible  to  God  alone  for  his  deeds,  as  a 
sovereign  he  acknowledges  to  his  subjects  that  he  heartily  repents 
of  his  wickedness,  and  desires  to  live  only  that  he  may  do  penance 
for  the  past  and  make  amends  for  the  future. " 

A  piteous  groan  escaped  from  the  lips  of  the  dying  monarch,  but 
his  "  friends"  did  not  stay  to  hear  it ;  they  fled  precipitately  from 
the  frightful  scene. 

While  here  a  trembling  soul  was  being  driven  from  its  earthly 
dwelling,  in  another  wing  of  the  palace  the  other  members  of  the 
royal  family  were  in  the  chapel  at  prayer.  The  evening  services 
were  over,  and  the  chaplain  was  reading  the  "forty  hours'  prayer," 
when  the  sky  became  suddenly  obscured,  peal  upon  peal  of  thunder 
resounded  along  the  heavens,  and  night  enveloped  the  chapel  in  its 
dismal  pall  of  black.  Livid  flashes  of  lightning  lit  up  the  pale 
faces  of  the  royal  supplicants,  while  to  every  faltering  prayer  that 
fell  from  their  lips  the  answer  came  from  above  in  the  roar  of  the 
angry  thunderclap. 

There,  before  the  altar,  knelt  the  doomed  pair,  the  innocent  heirs 
of  a  selfish  and  luxurious  race  of  kings,  whose  sins  were  to  be  visited 
upon  their  unconscious  heads.  No  wonder  they  wept — no  wonder 
they  shuddered  on  the  dark  and  stormy  night  which  heralded  their 
reign. 

The  rites  were  ended,  and  the  dauphin  and  dauphiness  went 
silently  together  to  their  apartments.  The  few  trusty  attendants 
who  were  gathered  in  the  anteroom  greeted  them  with  faint  smiles, 
and  uttered  silent  orisons  in  their  behalf  ;  for  who  could  help  com- 
passionating these  two  young  creatures,  upon  whose  inexperienced 
heads  the  thorny  crown  of  royalty  was  so  soon  to  be  placed? 

As  they  entered  the  door,  a  flash  of  lightning,  that  seemed  like 
the  fire  which  smote  the  guilty  cities  of  Israel,  flashed  athwart 
their  paths,  and  the  thunder  cracked  and  rattled  above  the  roof  as 
though  it  had  been  riving  that  palace-dome  asunder.  The  dau- 
phiness cried  out,  and  clung  to  her  husband's  arm.  He,  scarcely 
less  appalled,  stood  motionless  on  the  threshold. 

The  violence  of  the  wind  at  that  moment  had  burst  open  some 
outer  door.  The  lights  in  the  chandeliers  were  almost  extinguished, 
and  one  solitary  wax-light,  that  had  been  burning  in  the  recess  of  a 
window,  went  entirely  out.  Regardless  of  etiquette,  and  of  the 
presence  of  the  royal  pair,  Monsieur  de  Campau  sprang  to  the  chan- 
delier, and,  relighting  the  candle,  quickly  replaced  it  in  the  window. 

The  dauphin  beheld  the  act  with  astonishment,   for  uo  one  at 


LE  ROl  EST  MORT,  VIVE  LE  ROI !  879 

that  court    was    more    observant    of    decorum    than    Monsieur  de 
Campan. 

"What  means  that  light  in  the  window?"  inquired  the  dauphin, 
in  liis  clear,  touching  voice. 

"Pardon  me,  your  highness,  it  is  merely  a  ceremony,"  replied 
Monsieur  de  Campan,  confused. 

"What  ceremony?"  asked  the  dauphin,  with  surprise. 

"  Your  highness  commands  me  ?" 

"I  request  you — if  the  dauphiness  permits, "  said  Louis,  turning 
to  his  wife,  who,  almost  exhausted,  leaned  for  support  against  him, 
and  bowed  her  head. 

"  Your  majesty  has  given  orders,  that  as  soon  as  the  event,  which 
ia  about  to  take  place,  has  occurred,  the  whole  court  shall  leave 
Versailles  for  Choisy.  Now  it  would  not  be  possible  to  issue  verbal 
orders  in  such  a  moment  as  the  one  which  we  await ;  so  that  the 
master  of  the  horse  and  myself  had  agreed  upon  a  signal  by  which 
the  matter  could  be  arranged  without  speech.  The  gardes  du  coi'iis, 
pages,  equerries,  coaches,  coachmen,  and  outriders,  are  all  assem- 
bled in  the  court-yard,  tlieir  eyes  fixed  upon  this  light.  As  soon  as 
it  is  extinguished,  it  will  be  understood  that  the  moment  has  arrived 
when  the  court  is  to  leave  Versailles. " 

"Tlie  disappearance  of  the  light,  then,  will  communicate  the 
tidings  of  the  king's  death?" 

Monsieur  de  Campan  bowed.  Louis  drew  his  wife  hurriedly  for- 
ward, and  passed  into  another  room,  where,  with  his  hands  folded 
behind  him,  he  walked  to  and  fro. 

"  God  is  just, "  murmured  he  to  himself,  "  and  there  is  retribution 
in  heaven. " 

Marie  Antoinette,  whose  large  violet  eyes  had  followed  her  hus- 
band's motions,  raised  them  to  his  face  with  a  look  of  inquiry.  She 
rose  from  the  divan  on  which  she  was  sitting,  and  putting  her  small, 
white  hand  upon  the  daupliiu's  shoulder,  said  : 

"What  do  you  mean,  Louis?" 

"I  mean  tliat  this  solitary  light,  for  whose  disappearance  these 
people  are  waiting,  shines  in  retribution  for  the  fearful  death-bed 
of  my  father. " 

"  I  do  not  understand. " 

"No,  Antoinette,  how  should  you?  You  have  never  heard  the 
tragic  story  of  my  father's  death,  have  you?" 

"No,  my  husband,"  said  she,  tenderly  ;  "tell  it  to  me  now." 

"I  will,  Antoinette.  He  was  one  of  the  best  and  truest  hearts 
that  ever  lived,  and  yet  these  selfish  courtiers  all  forsook  him  in  his 
dying  hour.  He  lay  alone  and  abandoned  in  his  room  by  all  save 
my  angelic  mother,  who  nursed  him  as  loving  woman  alone  can 
nurse.  The  court  was  at  Fontainebleau,  and  the  dauphin's  father 
announced  that  as  soon  as  his  son  had  expired,  they  would  all 
journey  to  Choisy.  My  father,  who  in  an  arm  chair,  was  inhaling, 
for  the  last  time,  the  balmy  breath  of  spring,  saw  these  hurried 
preparations  for  departure  from  the  open  window  where  he  sat. 
He  saw  carriages,  horses,  trunks,  lackeys,  and  equerries  ready  at  a 
moment's  warning  to  move.  He  saw  that  the  signal  for  the  rush- 
ing crowd  to  depart  was  to  be  his  death.  Turning  to  his  physician, 
he  said,  with  a  sad  smile,  '  I  must  not  be  too  long  in  dying,  for  these 
people  are  becoming  impatient. '"  * 

*  Soulavie,  "M6moires,"  etc.,  vol.  i. 


380  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Shameful !"  cried  Marie  Antoinette,  wiping  away  her  tears. 

"Ay,  more  than  shameful !"  exclaimed  Louis.  "Now,  you  see, 
that  the  hour  of  retributiou  has  come,  for  once  more  the  court  grows 
impatient  with  the  length  of  a  dying  sovereign's  agony.  Oh,  would 
that  my  noble  father  were  alive  !  How  much  more  worthy  was  he 
to  be  a  king  than  I." 

"From  my  heart  I  echo  your  wish,"  said  Antoinette,  fervently. 
"How  was  it  that  he  died  so  yovmg?" 

Louis  looked  searchingly  at  the  face  of  his  young  wife.  "  He 
died  of  a  malady  whose  name  is  an  impeachment  of  the  honor  of 
those  who  survive  him,"  said  the  daupliin,  sternly,  "and  my  mother 
died  of  the  same  disease.*  But  let  us  not  throw  any  darker  shadows 
over  the  gloom  of  this  heavy  hour.  I  am  stifled — I  have  a  presenti- 
ment of — " 

A  loud  shout  interrupted  the  dauphin.  It  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  now  it  reached  the  anteroom,  where  the  crowding 
courtiers  were  pouring  in  to  greet  King  Louis  XVI. 

Tlie  dauphin  and  his  wife  were  at  no  loss  to  understand  these 
shouts.  They  exchanged  glances  of  fear,  and  side  by  side  they  fell 
upon  their  knees  while,  with  tear-streaming  eyes,  they  faltered  : 
"  O  God  have  mercy  upon  us,  we  are  so  young  to  reign  !"  f 

The  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  the  mistress  of  ceremonies  of 
Marie  Antoinette  appeared.  Behind  her  came  a  multitude  of  lords 
and  ladies,  their  curiovis  eyes  peering  at  what  they  had  never  ex- 
pected to  see — a  royal  couple  assuming  the  purple,  not  with  pomp 
and  pride,  but  with  humility,  distrust,  and  prayer. 

They  rose,  and  faced  their  subjects.  Madame  de  Noailles  courte- 
sied  so  low  that  she  was  upon  her  knees. 

"  Your  majesties  will  forgive  tliis  intrusion, "  said  she,  with  all 
the  aplomb  of  her  dignity.  "I  come  to  request  that  your  majesties 
will  repair  to  the  state  reception-room  to  receive  the  congratula- 
tions of  your  royal  relatives,  and  those  of  your  court,  who  are  all 
waiting  anxiously  to  do  you  homage." 

Such  a  request,  from  the  lips  of  Madame  de  Noailles,  was  the 
exaction  of  an  indispensable  form  of  court-etiquette,  which  the 
young  couple  dared  not  evade. 

Arm  in  arm  they  went,  Marie  Antoinette  hiding  her  tears  with 
her  handkercliief,  and  looking  inexpressibly  lovely  in  her  childish 
emotions,  while  the  loud  greetings  of  a  magnificent  court  hailed 
her  as  their  queen.  • 

While  the  consorts  of  the  royal  princes  folded  their  sister-in-law 
in  their  arms,  the  princes,  with  courtly  decorum,  bowed  ceremoni- 
ously before  the  king. 

"Permit  us,  sire, "  began  the  Count  of  Provence,  "  to  be  the  first  to 
lay  our  homage  Jit  your  majesty's  feet,  and  to — " 

"  My  brothers,  my  brothers !"  cried  Louis,  deeply  affected,  "  is 
my  crown  to  rob  me  of  the  dear  ties  of  kindred?  Oh,  do  not  call 
me  king,  for  I  cannot  afford  to  lose  the  dear  companions  of  my 
lihildhood." 

"Sire,"  replied  the  Count  of  Provence,  "you  shall  not  lose  them  ; 
and  for  us,  our  gain  is  two-fold.     We  receive  from  God  a  gracious 

*  It  was  p:enerally  believed  that  the  daiipTiin  and  his  wife  were  poisoned  by  a  polit- 
ical pai-ty.  whose  loader  was  the  Tiiike  de  Clioiseul.  The  royal  couple  belonged  to 
the  anti-Austrian  pai'ty.    "  MC'moiies  de  Cainpan,"  vol.  i.,  p.  78. 

t "  M6moires  de  Campan,'  vol.  i.,  p.  78. 


THE  MEMORANDA.  381 

king,  and  retain  our  much-loved  brother. "  And  the  count  embraced 
the  king,  who  had  opened  his  arms  to  receive  him. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  the  chateau  of  Versailles  was  de- 
serted. The  courtiers,  pages,  equerries,  and  lackeys,  had  all  de- 
parted, delighted  to  leave  that  infected  atmosphere,  within  whose 
poisonous  influence  the  iron  rules  of  etiquette  had  detained  them 
while  Louis  XV.  lived.  None  of  them  felt  inclined  to  do  homage 
to  departed  royalty.  Even  the  Duke  de  Villequier,  first  gentleman 
of  the  bed-chamber,  in  his  terror,  forgot  etiquette ;  and  instead  of 
watching  the  king's  corpse,  he,  too,  made  ready  to  go  with  the  rest. 

"  Monsieur, "  said  the  duke  to  Andouille,  the  king's  physician, 
"I  leave  you  that  you  may  be  able  to  open  and  embalm  the  body." 

Andouille  grew  pale,  for  he  knew  perfectly  well  that  the  per- 
formance of  such  a  ceremony  as  that,  was  his  death-warrant.  How- 
ever, after  a  pause,  he  replied,  "I  am  ready,  your  grace,  but  you 
must  remain  to  hold  the  king's  head.  It  is,  as  you  know,  a  part  of 
your  duty  as  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber. "  * 

The  Duke  de  Villequier  said  nothing.  He  merely  bowed  and  hur- 
ried from  the  room.  Andouille  followed  his  example,  but,  more 
considerate  than  the  other  attendants  of  the  king,  he  made  some 
provision  for  the  deserted  corpse.  He  sent  for  one  of  the  subordi- 
nates of  the  palace,  and  ordered  him  to  watch  by  the  body.  Then, 
going  to  his  carriage,  he  saw  several  hodmen  lounging  about,  who 
were  carrying  mortar  for  some  repairs  that  were  being  made  at  the 
palace.  The  phj'sician  called  them,  and  bade  them  go  tell  the  lord- 
steward  that  the  king's  coffin  must  be  saturated  with  spirits  of  wine, 
and  his  winding-sheet  also. 

Such  were  the  preparations  that  were  made  for  the  obsequies  of 
the  defunct  king ;  and  his  body  was  watched  by  a  few  servants  and 
these  hodmen  whom  Andouille  had  employed  as  messengers. 


CHAPTER    XCIV. 

THE  MEMORANDA. 

It  was  early  in  the  morning.  The  court  had  accompanied  the 
king  and  queen  to  Choisy,  and  thither  had  flocked  the  representa- 
tives of  every  class  in  Paris,  to  do  homage  to  the  king  and  wish  him 
a  prosperous  reign. 

The  people  seemed  wild  with  joy,  and  nobody  vouchsafed  a 
thought  to  the  memory  of  the  ''''  Bien-aime,"  whose  body  was  even 
now  being  taken  to  its  last  rest,  in  the  vaults  of  St.  Denis.  The 
fuueral  train  was  any  thing  but  imposing.  The  coffin,  placed  upon 
a  large  hunting- wagon,  was  followed  by  two  carriages,  containing 
the  Duke  d'Ayen,  the  Duke  d'Aumont,  and  two  priests.  Twenty 
pages  and  as  many  grooms  closed  the  procession,  which  went  along 
without  attracting  the  notice  of  anybody.  The  burial-service  was 
read  in  the  crypt,  and  the  coffin  hastily  lowered  in  the  vault,  which 
was  not  only  walled  up,  but  cemented  also,  for  fear  the  infection 
imprisoned  within  might  escape  from  the  dungeon  of  the  dead  and 
infest  the  abodes  of  the  living. 

Not  one  of  the  rojal  family  had  followed  the  body.  The  king  was 
at  Choisy,  and  all  hearts  were  turned  to  him.    Thousands  of  men  went 

*  Campan,  vol.  i.,  p.  79  . 


382  JOSEPH  II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

in  and  out  of  the  palace,  each  one  witli  his  burden  of  fears,  hopes, 
uneasiness  or  expectations.  Who  was  now  to  find  favor  at  court? 
Would  it  be  tlie  queen,  or  the  aunts  of  the  king?  What  fate  awaited 
Du  Barry?     Who  would  be  prime  minister? 

While  these  matters  were  being  discussed  without,  the  king, 
who  had  not  yet  made  his  appearance,  was  in  his  cabinet.  His  dis- 
ordered mien,  tangled  hair,  and  red  eyes,  as  well  as  the  lights  that 
still  flickered  in  the  chandeliers,  showed  plainly  that  he  had  not 
been  to  bed  that  night. 

He  could  not  sleep.  The  future  lowered  dark  and  threatening 
before  him,  and  day  had  not  brought  comfort  to  his  anxious  mind. 
Great  drops  of  sweat  stood  upon  his  brow,  and  his  face,  never  at  the 
best  of  times  handsome,  to-day  was  less  attractive  than  ever. 

"  I  am  so  young  I"  thought  he,  despondently.  "  I  know  of  no 
man  at  this  court,  in  whose  honesty  I  can  confide.  Everj^  man  of 
them  has  curried  favor  with  that  shameless  woman  whose  presence 
has  defiled  the  throne  of  my  ancestors,  and  disgraced  the  declining 
years  of  my  grandfather.  To  whom  shall  I  turn?  Who  will  give 
counsel  to  a  poor,  inexperienced  youth  ?" 

A  slight  knock  was  heard  at  the  door.    The  king  rose  and  opened  it. 

"Monsieur  de  Nicolai,"  said  Louis,  surjirised,  as  the  old  man 
stood  before  him  with  head  inclined.     "What  brings  you  to  me?" 

"The  will  of  your  deceased  father,  sire." 

The  king  stepped  back  and  motioned  him  to  enter.  "  Now  speak, " 
said  he.  "I  know  tliat  j'ou  were  with  my  father  on  his  death-bed  ; 
and  I  have  often  sought  to  win  your  friendship,  but  until  now  have 
sought  in  vain. " 

"  Sire,  I  was  afraid  that  if  I  betrayed  an  interest  in  your  majesty, 
I  might  not  be  allowed  to  live  long  enougli  to  fulfil  the  trust  con- 
fided to  me  bj'  your  father.  I  had  sworn  that  on  the  day  you 
ascended  the  throne  of  Franco  I  would  deliver  his  will  to  your 
majesty. " 

"And  you  have  preserved  it?    You  have  brought  it  to  me?" 

"Sire,  here  it  is,"  said  the  old  nobleman,  taking  from  his  breast 
a  sealed  package,  and  laying  it  in  the  king's  hands. 

Louis  grasped  it  eagerly,  and  deeply  moved,  read  the  address: 
"  Papers  to  be  delivered  to  whichever  one  of  my  sons  ascends  the 
throne  of  l^'rance. " 

"  Your  majesty  sees  that  I  have  kept  mj^  trust, "  said  De  Nicolai. 

"  Oh,  why  is  not  my  father  here  to  reign  in  my  stead  !"  exclaimed 
Louis. 

"He  died,  sire,  that  he  might  be  spared  the  sight  of  the  disgrace 
which  has  overtaken  France.  He  died  that  the  world  might  bear 
witness  to  the  baseness  of  those  who,  since  his  death,  have  swayed 
the  destinies  of  France.  He  did  not  die  in  vain.  Your  majesty's 
self  will  profit  by  his  martjTdom." 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  of  it  all.  I  know  the  invisible  hand  that 
dealt  the  death-blow  to  my  father,  my  mother,  and  my  grand- 
mother.    I  know  it,  and — " 

"Sire,  your  majesty's  father  forgave  his  enemies;  and,  through 
me,  he  prays  your  majesty  to  do  likewise. " 

"I  will  obey,"  said  Louis,  inclining  his  head,  "and  leave  the 
guilty  to  the  vengeance  of  Heaven." 

"And  now,  sire,  that  my  mi.ssion  is  accomplished,  allow  me  to 
retire,  and  let  me  entreat  you  to  lay  your  father's  words  to  heart." 


THE  MEMORANDA.  383 

"I  will  do  so,  I  promise  you.     Can  I  do  aught  to  serve  you?" 

"No,  your  majesty,  I  have  nothing  to  ask  of  man." 

The  king  gave  him  his  hand,  and  followed  him  with  wistful 
eyes  until  the  door  had  closed  behind  him. 

"Oil,  how  beggared  seems  a  king,  when  he  has  nothing  where- 
with to  recognize  the  loyalty  and  love  of  his  friends !"  thought 
Louis,  with  a  weary  sigh. 

He  took  up  the  packet  and  read :  "  Treaty  concluded  between 
Louis  XV.  and  Maria  Theresa,  on  the  1st  of  May,  1756.  Arguments 
to  prove  that,  sooner  or  later,  the  Austrian  alliance  will  be  an  injury 
to  France. " 

The  king  turned  over  the  pages  and  read  the  following  : 

"Whichever  one  of  my  sons  is  called  to  the  throne  of  Louis  XV. 
let  him  hearken  to  the  warning  of  his  father.  Beware,  my  son,  of 
entanglements  with  Austria.  Never  seek  the  hand  of  an  Austrian 
princess ;  for  marriages  with  Austria  have  bi"ought  no  blessing  to 
France. " 

The  king  sighed  heavily,  and  his  head  sank  upon  his  breast. 
"Too  late — too  late,  my  father  !  My  fate  is  decided!"  And  Louis 
took  up  the  second  memorandum. 

"  List  of  persons  whom  I  recommend  to  my  son,  the  King  of 
France. " 

"Ah! — this  is  the  guide  I  was  seeking.  Let  me  see.  First, — 
'Monsieur  de  Maurepas — a  statesman  who  has  steadily  oppo.sed  the 
policy  advocated  by  La  Pompadour. '  Tliat  is  well — I  shall  recall 
him  from  banishment.  '  Messieurs  de  Machault,  de  Nivernois,  de 
Muy  Perigord,  deBroglie,  d'Estaing,  and  others — all  men  of  honor. ' 
How  far-sighted  was  my  father,  in  recommending  tliese  men  !  They 
are  the  very  nobles  who  have  kept  aloof  from  the  late  king's  mis- 
tresses. With  one  exception,  I  adopt  tlie  list ;  but  there  is  one 
among  them,  who  stoojied  to  be  a  flatterer  of  Du  Barry.  The  Duke 
d'Aiguillon  is  certainly  a  statesman,  but  he  cannot  be  of  my 
ministry." 

Here  the  king  paused,  perplexed  to  know  who  should  be  appointed 
in  D'Aiguillon's  place.  Suddenly  his  face  brightened,  and  he  rose 
from  his  chair. 

"  Marie  Antoinette, "  thought  he,  "  I  will  advise  with  her.  Though 
we  may  not  love  one  another,  we  are  friendly  ;  and  she  has  a  riglit 
to  my  confidence.     Besides,  she  is  intelligent  and  principled. " 

"Here  the  king  took  up  his  memoranda, and  prepared  to  seek  his 
wife.  He  had  gotten  as  far  as  the  door,  when  his  expression 
changed  again,  and  his  face  once  more  wore  a  look  of  blank  despon- 
dency. With  a  grieved  and  perplexed  mind,  he  returned  to  the 
table. 

"No,  no,"  sighed  he, falling  back  into  his  chair, "that  will  never 
do.  She  is  an  Austrian  ;  and  her  policy  would  be  in  direct  opjiosi- 
tion  to  that  of  my  father. " 

For  some  time  the  poor  young  king  sat  in  profound  discourage- 
ment. Finally,  with  a  long,  weary  sigh,  he  raised  his  head,  and 
began  to  reflect  again.     At  last  he  solved  the  difficult  problem. 

"Ah! — I  have  it  now, "thought  he,  heartily  relieved.  "I  will 
go  to  Madame  Adelaide  She  was  my  mother's  dearest  friend  and 
my  father's  favorite  sister.  She  shall  be  my  covmsellor.  I  believe 
that,  with  her  assistance,  I  may  succeed  in  carrying  out  the  policy 
dictated  by  my  father. " 


384  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

He  gathered  up  bis  papers,  and  went  into  the  anteroom,  where 
he  ordered  a  page  to  go  to  Madame  Adelaide,  and  say  that  the  king 
would  visit  her  if  she  could  conveniently  receive  him.* 


CHAPTER  XCV. 

FRANCE    AND    AUSTRIA. 

While  the  king  was  closeted  with  Madame  Adelaide,  the  queen, 
on  her  side,  was  receiving  her  royal  household.  This  ceremony 
over,  she  had  gladly  retired  to  the  privacy  of  her  own  room,  there 
to  restore  order  to  her  confused  mind. 

But  her  rest  was  not  of  long  duration,  for  presently  came  Mon- 
sieur de  Campan  to  announce  the  visit  of  the  Austrian  ambassador. 

The  queen  received  him  most  cordially,  rising  from  her  seat,  and 
advancing  a  few  steps  to  meet  him.  Madame  de  Noailles,  who, 
conforming  to  etiquette,  had  entered  with  Monsieur  de  Campan, 
and  was  to  remain  in  the  room  during  the  interview,  was  shocked 
at  the  queen,  and  frowned  visibly. 

Marie  Antoinette  paid  no  attention  to  her.  She  reached  her  hand 
to  Count  von  Mercy,  and  allowed  him  to  press  it  to  his  lips. 

Again  Madame  de  Noailles  was  horror-stricken.  The  kissing  of 
the  queen's  hand  was  a  state  ceremonial,  and  was  inadmissible  in 
private. 

The  queen  had  forgotten  the  existence  of  her  mistress  of  cere- 
monies. With  sparkling  eyes  and  beaming  smiles  she  greeted  the 
old  count,  who,  to  her,  was  the  representative  of  all  that  she  loved 
— her  mother,  her  sisters,  and  her  native  country. 

"Have  you  news  for  me  from  Vienna,  covmt?"  said  she,  in  a 
voice  whose  tones  were  strikingly  like  those  of  her  mother. 

"  I  bring  to  your  majesty  letters  of  condolence  and  of  congratu- 
lation from  the  empress  and  the  emperor. " 

"Why,  you  must  be  a  conjurer,  count.  Ovir  reign  is  not  twenty- 
four  hours  old  yet,  and  you  bring  vis  congratulations  from  Vienna?" 

"I  will  explain,  your  majesty,"  said  the  old  count,  with  a  smile. 
"  You  remember,  that  more  than  a  week  ago  the  king  lay  in  a  stupor, 
which,  for  some  hours,  was  supposed  to  be  death.  During  his 
stupor,  my  courier  started  for  Vienna,  and  the  messenger  sent  after 
him,  to  stop  the  dispatches,  arrived  too  late.  The  answers  had  been 
sent,  and  there  are  the  congratulatory  letters. " 

The  count  handed  his  papers,  and  as  the  queen  cast  down  her  beauti- 
ful eyes  to  read  the  address,  she  exclaimed,  joyfully  : 

"My  mother's  handwriting  and  my  brother's  !" 

She  broke  the  seal  of  the  empress's  letter,  and  her  countenance 
fell. 

"Nothing  but  official  papers,"  said  she,  sighing,  and  putting 
them  on  the  table.  "I  know  the  contents  of  Joseph's  letter  without 
reading  it.  Have  you  no  news  for  me  from  Vienna?  Think  of 
something  to  tell  me  from  home,  dear  count." 

Count  von  Mercy  cast  a  stolen  glance  at  the  mistress  of  ceremo- 
nies, who,  stiff  and  watchful,  stood  close  by  the  side  of  the  queen's 
chair.     Marie  Antoinette  understood  the  look. 

*  Madame  Adelaide,  an  anti- Austrian,  and,  therefore,  one  of  the  queen's  enemies, 
was,  througliout  his  wliole  reign,  the  counsellor  of  her  nephew. 


FRANCE  AND  AUSTRIA.  386 

"Madame  de  Noailles, "  said  she,  turning  with  a  smile  to  address 
her,  "you  will  not,  I  hope,  think  me  rude,  if  I  request  you  to 
allow  me  a  few  moments'  interview  with  Count  von  Mercy.  He 
has  something  to  say  to  me  that  is  of  a  strictly  confidential  nature. " 

The  mistress  of  ceremonies  did  not  appear  to  have  heard  a  word 
of  this  address.  Marie  Antoinette  reddened,  and  threw  back  her 
head. 

"I  request  Madame  de  Noailles,"  repeated  she,  changing  her 
tone,  "to  retire  into  the  reception -room.  I  wish  to  speak  with 
Count  von  Mercy  alone. " 

"I  must  be  permitted  to  say  that  your  majesty's  request  cannot 
be  granted, "  replied  Madame  de  Noailles.  "  No  Queen  of  France  is 
permitted  to  receive  a  foreign  ambassador  otherwise  than  in  the 
presence  of  the  court.  I  shall  have  to  ask  his  majesty's  pardon  for 
a  breach  of  decorum,  which  I  was  too  late  to  prevent — the  reception 
of  the  ambassador  here  with  myself  alone  to  witness  the  interview." 

The  queen's  eyes  flashed  with  anger  as  she  listened  to  this  pre- 
sumptuous language. 

"  You  will  have  to  ask  pardon  of  no  one  but  myself,  madame, 
for  your  unseemly  language  to  your  sovereign." 

"Excuse  me,  your  majesty,  I  perform  my  duty,  and  this  requires 
of  me  to  see  that  no  one  here  commits  any  breach  of  court  etiquette. 
The  laws  of  etiquette  are  as  binding  upon  the  queen  as  upon  her 
subjects — and  she  cannot  infringe  them." 

"  I  annovxnce  to  you,  madame,  that  no  laws  of  yours  shall  be 
binding  upon  me.  The  Queen  of  France  is  here  to  make  laws — not 
to  receive  them.  And  for  the  last  time  I  command  you  to  quit 
til  is  room,  and  to  leave  me  alone  with  the  representative  of  my 
imperial  mother." 

Madame  de  Noailles  made  a  deep  courtesy,  and  backed  out  of  the 
room. 

Marie  Antoinette  looked  after  her,  until  the  last  traces  of  her 
long  train  had  vanished,  and  the  silk  portiere  had  fallen  in  its  place. 

"Ah!"  said  she,  taking  a  long  breath,  "at  last  I  have  gained  a 
victory.  It  is  now  my  turn  to  lecture,  and  madame  has  received 
her  first  scolding.  Well,  count,  now  that  she  is  fairly  off,  what 
have  you  to  tell  me  from  Vienna?" 

Count  von  Mercy  looked  toward  the  door,  and  having  convinced 
himself  that  it  was  well  closed,  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  package, 
and  presented  it  to  the  queen. 

Marie  Antoinette  hastily  tore  open  the  seals  and  began  to  read. 

"Oh!"  said  she,  with  a  disappointed  look,  "this  is  no  private 
letter.  It  is  nothing  but  a  letter  of  instructions,  directing  me  how 
to  win  the  king's  confidence,  so  as  to  influence  his  policy  and  secure 
a  new  ally  to  Austria.  The  empress  need  not  remind  me  that  I 
must  look  to  the  interests  of  the  house  of  Hapsburg.  The  Queen  of 
France  will  never  forget  that  she  is  the  daughter  of  Maria  Theresa, 
and  she  will  do  all  in  her  power  to  promote  an  alliance  between 
France  and  Austria.  Tell  my  mother  that  I  never  will  cease  to  be 
her  subject,  and  that  her  interests  shall  always  be  mine.  And  now 
for  the  other  mission." 

"Good  Heaven  !"  cried  she,  after  opening  the  letter,  "more  poli- 
tics. "  She  looked  down  the  page,  and  read  :  "  Personages  whom  I 
]-ecommend  as  suitable  for  the  counsellors  and  household  of  the 
king. " 


386  JOSEPH  11.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Tliis  was  quite  a  long  list  in  the  empress's  handwriting,  and  at 
its  head  stood  the  name  of  the  Duke  de  Choiseul.  "  The  Queen  of 
France  must  use  every  effort  to  secure  his  appointment  as  minister, 
for  he  is  sincerely  attached  to  us. " 

Many  other  distinguislied  names  were  there ;  but  not  one  of 
those  which  had  been  mentioned  by  the  king's  father. 

"I  will  preserve  this  paper  with  care,"  said  Marie  Antoinette, 
burying  her  letters  deep  in  her  pocket.  "  No  doubt,  you  know  their 
contents,  count.  A  postscript  says,  '  Consult  frequently  with  Mercy  ;' 
so  let  us  begin  at  once. " 

"Will  your  majesty  not  read  the  letter  of  the  emperor? 

"  Why  should  I  read  it  now  V  It  grieves  me  to  see  these  political 
documents  from  the  hands  of  dear  relatives  who  ought  to  write  to 
me  of  home  and  love.  I  will  put  it  with  the  official  letter  of  the 
empress  for  the  king  to  read. "  x«   •  ,  „ 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  but  I  do  not  think  it  is  official. 

"  Read  it  for  me,  then, "  said  the  queen,  throwing  herself  back  m 
the  deep  recesses  of  her  arm-chair.  "I  have  confidence  enough  in 
you  to  be  willing  that  you  shall  see  my  brother's  letter,  should  it 
even  be  a  private  one. " 

Count  von  Mercy  bowed,  and  unfolded  the  letter,  which  was  as 

follows : 

"Madame  :  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  husband's  accession  to 
the  throne  of  France.  He  will  repair  the  faults  of  his  predecessor's 
reign,  and  win  the  love  of  his  people.  The  French  nation  has 
groaned  under  the  inflictions  of  a  king  who  not  only  proscribed 
parliament,  but  intrusted  every  office  of  state  to  his  favorites.  He 
banished  De  Choiseul,  Malesherbes,  and  Chalotais ;  and  in  then- 
stead  elevated  the  Mam-epas,  the  D'Aiguillons,  and  that  hateful 
Abbe  Terray,  who,  for  rapacity,  were  none  of  them  better  than  Du 
Barry— and  thus  he  ended  by  losing  the  love  of  his  subjects.  I  have 
often  pitied  Louis  XV.  for  degrading  himself  as  he  did  before  the 
eyes  of  his  family,  his  subjects,  and  the  world. 

"  Unite  your  efforts  to  those  of  your  husband,  that  you  may  win 
the  love  of  the  French  nation.  Leave  no  stone  unturned  to  secure 
their  affection,  for,  by  so  doing,  you  will  prove  a  blessing  to  your 

"Strengthen  our  alliance  with  France,  and  apply  yourself  to  the 
mission  for  which  you  were  educated— that  of  peace-maker  between 
two  of  the  most  important  powers  of  Europe. 

"I  kiss  your  hands,  and  remain,  with  the  highest  esteem  and 
consideration,  your  majesty's  friend  and  brother, 

" Joseph.  " * 

"You  are  right,  count,"  said  the  queen,  as  the  ambassador  con- 
cluded his  reading.  "  This  is  no  official  document,  but  a  most  sig- 
nificant letter  of  instructions.  I  am  expected  to  preserve  peace  be- 
tween France  and  Austria.  Ah,  I  fear  that  I  am  not  calculated  to 
walk  the  slippery  arena  of  politics,  and  I  confess  to  you  that  I  feel 
in  no  wise  drawn  toward  it.  It  does  seem  to  me  that  a  queen  of 
nineteen  may  be  pardoned  if  she  feels  some  desire  to  enjoy  life.  I 
intend  to  begin  by  breaking  the  fetters  wliich  have  hitherto  made 
such  wretched  i)uppets  of  the  ipieens  of  France  ;  and  l)efore  long 
*  "  Letters  of  Joseph  II.,  as  Characteristic  Contributions,  "  etc.,  p.  20. 


FRANCE  AND  AUSTRIA.  387 

you  will  see  the  workings  of  my  court  revolution.  But  there  is  one 
thing  near  to  my  heart,  which  you  must  assist  me  to  compass.  The 
Duke  de  Choiseul  must  be  minister  of  foreign  affairs.  I  know  that 
he  desires  it,  and  I  am  under  obligations  to  him  which  deserve  some 
return.  I  owe  it  to  him  that  I  am  Queen  of  France.  Now,  if  I  suc- 
ceed in  elevating  Choiseul  to  the  ministry, "  continued  the  queen, 
with  an  appealing  smile,  "I  hope  that  Austria  will  be  satisfied,  and 
will  allow  me  to  retire  from  the  field.  The  Duke  de  Choiseul  will 
be  a  much  abler  auxiliary  than  I,  near  the  king.  We  must,  there- 
fore, have  him  recalled." 

"The  duke  arrived  in  Paris  from  Chanteloup  this  morning,  bvit 
does  not  think  it  advisable  to  present  himself,  until  he  receives  a 
message  from  the  king." 

"  I  shall  see  that  the  message  is  sent, "  said  Marie  Antoinette, 
confidently.  "The  king  will  not  refuse  me,  I  know.  You  shrug 
yovir  shoulders,  count.     Do  you  think  it  doubtful?" 

"Your  majesty  condescends  to  speak  confidentially  with  me," 
said  the  count,  seriously.  "  I  am  an  old  servant  of  your  house,  and 
my  hair  has  grown  gray  in  its  service.  In  consideration,  then,  of 
the  deep  affection  which  I  have  ever  felt  for  your  majesty,  will  j-ou 
allow  me  to  speak  with  you  frankly?" 

"I  implore  you,  count,  to  do  so." 

"Then,  your  majesty,  let  me  warn  you  to  be  careful.  Things  do 
not  work  at  this  French  court  as  they  ought  to  do.  Your  majesty 
has  bitter  enemies,  who  await  an  opportunity  to  declare  themselves 
openly.  The  Count  of  Provence  and  the  aunts  of  the  king  are  at 
the  head,  and,  believe  me,  they  are  watchful  spies. " 

"Oh,  my  God  !"  cried  the  poor  young  queen,  "what  have  I  done 
to  earn  their  enmity?" 

"  You  are  an  Austrian  princess,  and  that  suffices  for  them.  Your 
marriage  was  a  victory  over  the  anti-Austrian  party,  for  which  the 
Duke  de  Choiseul  never  will  be  forgiven  ;  and  as  for  yourself,  if  you 
give  them  the  opportunity,  they  wnll  not  scruple  to  take  revenge 
upon  yovir  own  royal  person.  The  Covmt  of  Provence  has  a  shai-p 
tongue,  and  his  aunts  and  himself  will  spare  no  means  to  wound  or 
to  injure  you.  Therefore,  pardon  me,  if  again  I  bid  you  beware  of 
your  enemies.  There  is  Madame  de  Noailles,  for  instance,  she  belongs 
to  the  most  powerful  families  in  France,  and  the  French  nation  re- 
gard her  as  the  palladium  of  the  queen's  honor.  Your  majesty  cannot 
afford  to  offend  her.  It  would  be  a  great  misfortime  for  you,  if  she 
should  resign  her  office  ;  for  her  resignation  would  place  on  the  list 
of  your  enemies  all  the  most  influential  nobles  in  France." 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  the  queen,  with  a  painful  blush. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty  ;  and  I  thank  you  for  your  condescension  in 
listening  so  long." 

"Then  hear  me,"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  rising  and  standing 
proudly  before  him.  "You  tell  me  that  I  have  enemies.  Be  it  so, 
and  may  God  forgive  them  !  But  it  were  unworthy  the  daughter  of 
Maria  Theresa  to  stoop  to  conciliate  them.  With  visor  raised,  and 
front  exposed,  I  stand  before  them.  My  blameless  life  shall  be  my 
defence,  for  I  will  so  live  that  all  France  shall  be  my  champions. 
As  for  Madame  de  Noailles,  I  will  make  no  concessions  to  her.  My 
virtue  needs  no  more  protection  from  etiquette  than  that  of  any 
other  woman.  Heretofore  the  Queens  of  France  have  been  nothing 
but  Marionettes  in  the  hands  of  their  high-born  duennas.     I  intend 


388  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

to  transform  the  puppets  into  women,  whom  the  French  nation  can 
love  and  esteem  ;  for  I  wish  my  people  to  know  that  their  queen's 
virtue  is  not  a  thing  of  form,  but  tlie  veritable  overflowing  of  a 
heart  aspiring  to  perfection. " 

"Right  royally  spoken  !"  said  a  soft  voice  behind,  and  the  queen 
starting,  beheld  the  king,  who,  having  opened  the  door  quietly,  had 
heard  her  last  words. 


CHAPTER   XCVI. 

THE  KING'S  LIST. 

Marie  Antoinette,  with  a  happy  smile,  gave  her  hand  to  her 
husband.  He  raised  it  to  his  lips,  and  kissed  it  so  fervently  that 
his  young  wife  blushed  with  pleasure. 

"Do  you  know  what  brings  me  to  you,  Antoinette?"  said  he 
gayly.  "The  deadly  anxiety  of  good  Madame  Etiquette.  She  met 
me  in  the  anteroom,  and  confessed  that  she  had  been  guilty  of  the 
crime  of  leaving  the  queen  alone  with  a  foreign  ambassador.  To 
relieve  her  mind,  I  promised  to  come  hither  myself,  and  put  an  end 
to  the  treason  that  was  hatching  between  France  and  Austria. '" 

"Ah!"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  with  a  bewitching  pout,  "then 
you  came,  not  to  see  me,  but  to  save  Madame  Etiquette  a  fit  of  the 
vapors. " 

"  I  made  use  of  her  as  a  pretext  to  inti-ude  myself  upon  you, "  said 
the  king  witli  embai-rassment. 

"  Oh,  your  majesty  well  knows  that  you  need  no  pretext  to  come 
in  my  presence  !"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  eagerly. 

"Certainly,  I  require  it  just  now,  for  I  have  broken  up  a  charm- 
ing tete-d-tete,"  said  the  king,  bowing  to  Von  Mercy. 

"  The  count  has  brought  me  letters  from  the  empress, "  said  Marie 
Antoinette.  "And  what  do  you  suppose  they  were?  Congratula- 
tions upon  our  accession  to  the  throne. " 

The  king  smiled,  but  expressed  no  surprise. 

"  What,  you  are  not  surprised  !"  said  the  queen.  "  Do  you  take 
the  count  for  a  sorcerer?" 

"I  take  him  for  a  true  and  loyal  friend  of  his  sovereign,"  said 
Louis,  "and  I  only  wish  that  I  possessed  one  as  faithful.  But  I  am 
not  at  all  astonished  to  hear  of  the  congratulations,  since  the  courier 
started  off  with  the  news  a  week  ago. " 

"Your  majesty  knew  it,  then?" 

"A  king  must  know  all  things,"  said  he  gravely.  "Are  you  not 
of  my  opinion,  count?  Is  it  not  proper  that  a  sovereign  should 
possess  a  knowledge  of  every  important  letter  which  comes  into  his 
kingdom  or  leaves  it?" 

"I  believe  so,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  count,  somewhat 
confused. 

"I  am  convinced  of  it,  and  so  is  the  Empress  of  Austria,"  said 
the  king,  with  a  laugli.  "  She  is  admirably  well  posted  in  all  that 
concerns  foreign  courts,  and  not  a  document  leaves  the  French  em- 
bassy in  Vienna  of  which  slie  has  not  a  copy.  Is  it  not  so.  Count 
von  Mercy?" 

"I  do  not  believe,  sire,  that  there  is  any  person  in  the  French 


THE  KING'S  LIST  389 

embassy  capable  of  betraying  the  interests  of  his  country,  or  of 
revealing  its  secrets. " 

"  Then  change  your  creed,  count,  for  in  every  country  there  are 
men  open  to  bribery.  But,"  continued  he,  turning  to  the  queen, 
"we  have  wandered  from  our  subject — your  majesty's  letters  from 
Vienna.     Have  you  good  news?" 

"  It  is  merely  official,  Sire, "  replied  the  queen,  handing  the  letter 
to  the  king. 

Louis  looked  it  over ;  then  replacing  it  upon  the  table,  said, 
"  And  the  other  letters?" 

"  Which  other  letters?"  asked  the  queen. 

"Did  you  not  tell  me  there  were  several?" 

"No,  sire,"  replied  the  queen,  reddening. 

"What  fables  men  do  invent !"  exclaimed  the  king.  "A  courier 
has  just  arrived  from  the  French  embassy,  in  Vienna,  with  dis- 
l^atches  informing  us  that  Count  von  Mercy  had  received  for  your 
majesty  one  official  letter  from  the  empress,  and  two  private  letters 
of  instruction,  one  of  which  contained  a  list  of  persons  recommended 
by  her  majesty  ;  and,  finally,  a  fourth  missive,  private,  from  the 
Emperor  Joseph.     And  all  this  is  pure  invention,  Count  von  Mercy  ?" 

"  It  is,  j'our  majesty,  "  said  the  count,  with  much  embarrassment, 
while  Marie  Antoinette  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  blushed. 

Tlie  king  enjoyed  their  confusion  for  a  while  ;  he  seemed  to  take 
pleasure  in  this  first  triumph  of  his  regal  power,  and  a  smile  flitted 
over  his  rather  clumsy  featui-es. 

"You  see,  then,"  continued  he,  "that  I  have  received  false  intel- 
ligence, and  it  is  evident  that  Avistrians  are  less  corrupt  than 
Frenchmen,  for  I  am  told  that  Count  von  Mercy  and  Prince  Kaunitz 
are  aufait  to  every  thing  that  transpires  in  the  palace  here.  Be 
tliat  as  it  may,  we  intend  to  follow  the  example  of  the  queen.  Our 
policy  sliall  be  so  frank  and  honorable  that  all  the  world  may  know 
it  and  welcome.  But — it  occurs  to  me  that  the  mistress  of  cere- 
monies is  in  great  anguish  of  mind.  She  will  not  recover  her  equa- 
nimity until  she  sees  you  again,  coimt. " 

"In  that  case,  your  majesty,  I  beg  leave  to  retire,"  replied  the 
count. 

The  king  bowed,  and  the  queen  gave  him  her  hand. 

As  the  count  was  about  to  raise  the  porhere,  the  king  called  him 
back.     "  Do  you  send  a  courier  to  Vienna  to-day  ?"  asked  his  majesty. 

"  Yes,  sire,  in  one  hour. " 

"Then  let  me  impart  to  you  a  secret  which  I  think  will  interest 
her  imperial  majesty  of  Austria — my  new  ministry." 

"How!  has  your  majesty  already  chosen  them?"  asked  Marie 
Antoinette,  anxiously. 

The  king  nodded.  "It  was  my  first  sacred  duty  to  seek  guides 
for  my  inexperience,  and  I  have  chosen  ministers  who  are  able 
statesmen,  and  have  already  served  before. " 

The  queen's  eyes  brightened,  and  even  Count  von  Mercy  seemed 
surprised  and  pleased. 

"Do,  your  majesty,  let  us  have  their  names,"  said  Marie  Antoi- 
nette. 

"  First,  Monsieur  de  Maurepas. " 

The  queen  uttered  an  exclamation.  "The  minister  of  the  re- 
gency, who  has  been  banished  for  forty  years  !" 

"  The  same.     He  was  a  friend  of  my  father.     He  will  be  prime 


390  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

miiaister  ;  and  as  I  am  so  unfortunate  as' to  have  to  bear  the  weight 
of  royalty  at  twenty  years,  I  have  taken  care  to  select  old  and  ex- 
perienced men  as  my  counsellors. " 

"And  who  is  to  succeed  the  Duke  d'Aiguillon?"  cried  Marie 
Antoinette,  "  for  I  presume  that  your  majesty  intends  to  give  him 
his  dismissal." 

"I  would  be  glad  to  retain  him  as  my  minister,"  said  the  king, 
pointedly,  "for  his  policy  is  identical  with  mine.  He  has  the  in- 
terests of  France  at  heart,  and  has  never  suffered  himself  to  be  led 
away  by  foreign  influence.  But  unluckily,  he  was  too  intimate 
with  Du  Barry,  and  on  this  ground  I  shall  dismiss  him. " 

"And  his  successor?"  asked  the  queen,  scarcely  able  to  restrain 
her  bitter  disappointment. 

"  His  successor  is  the  Count  de  Vergennes. " 

"  De  Vergennes  !"  cried  the  queen,  scornfully.  "  He  who  married 
a  slave  in  Constantinople?" 

"Ah,  you  have  heard  that  ridiculous  story,  which  was  invented 
by  Monsieur  de  Choiseul?  Nobody  here  ever  believed  it;  and  let 
me  tell  you  that  the  Countess  de  Vergennes  enjoys  the  esteem  and 
consideration  of  all  who  know  her.  Vergennes  himself  is  a  man  of 
talent,  and  will  do  me  good  service.  The  other  ministers  are :  for 
the  war  department.  Count  de  Muy  ;  for  the  minister  of  finance, 
instead  of  that  hateful  Abbe  Terray— (was  not  that  the  emperor's 
expression?) — I  have  chosen  Count  de  Clugny. " 

"Count  de  Clugny!"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  again  beginning  to 
hope.  "Does  your  majesty  mean  the  friend  of  the  Duke  de 
Choiseul  ?" 

"  Himself,  madame, "  said  the  king,  coolly.  "  And  while  you  are 
speaking  of  Monsieur  de  Choiseul,  I  am  reminded  that  this  is  not 
the  first  time  his  name  has  been  mentioned  to-day.  You,  Count 
von  Mercy,  are  a  friend  of  his— I  am  not.  You  can,  therefore,  tell 
me  whether  it  is  true  that  he  has  left  Chanteloup,  wither  the  de- 
ceased king  had  banished  him. " 

"Yes,  sire,  the  Dukede  Choiseul  arrived  this  morning  in  Paris." 

"What  can  he  want  in  Paris?"  asked  the  king,  with  an  uncon- 
scious look.  "Why  did  he  leave  Chanteloup?  It  seems  to  me  that 
for  the  man  who  is  so  lucky  as  to  have  a  landed  estate,  this  is  tlie 
very  time  of  year  to  stay  there.  You  had  better  advise  your  friend 
to  return  to  the  country.  And  now,  count,  you  know  all  tliat  I 
have  to  tell,  and  I  will  detain  you  no  longer.  Madame  de  Noailles 
must  be  in  despair.  Comfort  her  by  informing  her  that  you  left  the 
Queen  of  France  in  the  company  of  her  husband." 


CHAPTER     XCVII. 

THE     FIRST     PASQUINADE. 

The  court  had  left  Choisy  for  the  Chateau  de  la  Muette,  near 
Paris.  Here  the  queen  was  "to  hold  her  first  public  levee,  and  her 
subjects  longed  to  appear  before  her,  for  the  Parisians  were  enthu- 
siastic admirers  of  grace  and  beauty.  Marie  Antoinette  had  won 
their  hearts  by  refusing  to  accept  the  tax  called  "-La  ceinture  de  la 
reine."  Tliis  tax  was  the  perquisite  of  the  Queen  of  France  on  ]ier 
accession  to  the  throne.     But  liaving  discovered  that  the  nobles  had 


THE  FIRST  PASQUINADE.  391 

managed  to  evade  it  and  cast  the  burden  of  taxation  upon  the  poor, 
Marie  Antoinette  had  requested  her  husband's  leave  to  relinquish 
her  right  to  it.  Like  wildfire  the  news  of  the  young  queen's  gener- 
osity spread  throughout  Paris ;  and  in  all  the  streets,  cafes,  and 
cabarets  the  people  were  singing  this  couplet : 

"  Vous  renoncez,  charmante  souveraine, 
Au  plus  beau  de  vos  revenus; 
A  quoi  vous  servirait  la  ceinture  de  reine, 
Vous  avez  celle  de  V6uus.'" 

They  sang,  they  shouted,  and  made  merry,  happy  in  the  posses- 
sion of  a  young  king,  and  a  beautiful  queen,  casting  never  a 
thought  toward  him  who,  years  before,  had  been  surnamed  Le 
Bien-aime.  * 

One  speculating  jeweller,  alone,  honored  the  memory  of  the  de- 
ceased king,  and  made  his  fortune  thereby.  He  manufactured  a 
mourning  snuff-box,  of  black  shagreen,  whose  lid  was  ornamented 
with  a  portrait  of  the  queen.  He  called  his  boxes  "La  consolation 
dans  le  chagrin,"  \  and  his  portrait  and  pun  became  so  popular,  that 
in  less  than  a  week  he  had  sold  a  liundred  thousand  of  these  boxes.  X 

Louis,  also,  had  his  shai*e  of  the  national  good-will.  He  re- 
nounced the  tax  called  "  Lejoyeux  avenement; "  and  to  commemorate 
the  act,  another  snuff-box  made  its  appearance  in  Paris  as  ape?ifZa?ji 
to  the  " Consolation  in  Grief."  The  king's  box  contained  tlie  por- 
ti'aits  of  Louis  XII.  and  Henry  IV.  Below  these,  was  his  own  like- 
ness, with  the  following  inscription  :  "  Les  peres  dii  jyenple,  XII.  et 
IV.  font  XVI. "  These  boxes  were  as  popular  as  those  of  the  queen  : 
and  Louis  and  Marie  Antoinette  were  the  idols  of  the  Parisians. 

"Long  live  the  king  !"  was  the  cry  from  morn  till  night.  Hope 
briglitened  every  eye,  and  reigned  in  every  heart.  The  people 
dreamed  of  peace,  happiness,  and  plenty,  and  the  fashions  symbol- 
ized their  state  of  mind.  The  women  dressed  their  heads  with  ears 
of  wheat,  and  ate  their  dragees  from  cornucopias.  The  men  poured 
out  their  enthusiasm  in  sonnets  and  addresses,  and  every  tiling  in 
France  was  conleur  de  rose. 

Coideur  de  rose — with  one  exception.  Tlae  anti -Austrian  part}* 
frowned,  and  plotted,  and  hated.  Exasperated  by  the  enthusiasm 
wliich  the  beautiful  young  queen  inspired,  they  watched  her  every 
motion,  eager  to  magnify  the  most  trivial  imperfection  into  crime  ; 
hoping,  sooner  or  later,  to  render  her  obnoxious  to  the  French  people, 
and  finally,  to  compass  the  end  of  all  their  wicked  intrigues — a  sepa- 
ration between  the  king  and  queen,  and  the  disgrace  and  banish- 
ment of  Marie  Antoinette  to  Austria. 

It  was  the  day  of  the  grand  reception,  at  La  Muette,  where  every 
lady  having  a  right  to  appear  at  court  might  come  uninvited  and 
be  presented  to  the  queen.  The  great  throne-room  was  prepared  for 
the  occasion ;  and  although  its  decorations  were  black,  they  were 
tastefully  enlivened  with  white  and  silver.  The  throne  itself  was 
covered  with  black  velvet,  trimmed  with  silver  and  fringe.  Hun- 
dreds of  ladies  thronged  the  room,  all  with  their  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
door  through  whiclx  the  queen  and  her  court  must  make  their 
entrance. 

*  "Memoiresde  Weber,"  vol.  i.,  p.  43. 
t  "  Memoires  de  Jradame  de  Canipan,"  vol.  1.,  p.  91. 

i  This  word  '•chagrin,'  signifies  not  only  grief,  but   also  that  preparation  of 
leather,  which,  in  English,  is  called  "  shagreen.""    Hence  the  pun. 

20 


392  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

The  folding-doors  were  thrown  wide  open,  and,  announced  by 
her  mistress  of  ceremonies,  Marie  Antoinette  appeared. 

A  murmur  of  admiration  was  heard  among  the  crowd.  Never 
had  the  queen  looked  so  trauscendently  lovely  as  she  did  to-day  in 
her  dress  of  deep  mourning.  She  seemed  to  feel  the  solemnity  of 
lier  position  as  qvieen- consort  of  a  great  nation,  and  the  expression 
of  her  face  was  tranquil  and  dignified.  No  woman  ever  represented 
royalty  with  better  grace  than  Marie  Antoinette,  and  tlie  old  co- 
quettes of  the  regency  and  of  the  corrupt  court  of  Louis  XV.  were 
awed  by  her  stateliness.  They  could  not  but  confess  that  they 
were  in  the  jwesence  of  a  noble  and  virtuous  woman :  therefore 
they  disliked  her,  whispering  one  to  the  other,  "What  an  ac- 
tress !" 

Marie  Antoinette  took  her  seat  upon  the  throne.  On  her  right 
and  left  were  the  royal  family,  and  behind  them  tlie  ladies  of  the 
court.  Opposite  stood  Madame  de  Noailles,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
present  tliose  who  were  unknown  to  the  queen. 

The  presentation  began.  Forth  in  their  high-heeled  shoes  came 
the  noble-born  widows,  who,  old  and  faded,  were  loath  to  forget 
that  in  the  days  of  the  regency  they  had  been  blooming  like  the 
queen,  and  who,  in  happy  ignorance  of  their  crow's  feet  and 
wrinkles,  were  decked  in  the  self-same  costumes  which  had  once 
set  off  their  I'oses  and  dimples. 

It  was  a  ludicrous  sight — these  ugly  old  women,  with  their 
jewels  and  patclies,  their  extraordinary  head-dresses,  and  their  deep, 
deep  courtesies,  painful  by  reason  of  the  aching  bones  of  three- 
score and  ten.  The  young  princesses  dared  not  raise  their  eyes  to 
these  representatives  of  by-gone  coquetry,  for  they  were  afraid  to 
commit  a  crime — they  were  afraid  that  they  miglit  laugh.  But  the 
ladies  of  honor,  safe  behind  the  hoops  of  tlie  queen  and  her  sisters- 
in-law  luade  merry  over  the  magnificent  old  ruins.  Madame  de 
Noailles  was  so  busy  with  the  front,  tliat  she  overlooked  the  rear, 
where  the  lively  young  Marquise  de  Charente  Tounerre,  tired  of 
standing,  had  glided  down  and  seated  herself  comfortably  on  the 
floor.  Neither  could  she  see  that  the  marquise,  in  the  exuberance 
of  her  youthful  spirits,  was  pulling  the  other  ladies  by  their  skirts, 
and  amusing  them  with  mimicry  of  the  venerable  coquettes  before 
mentioned  ;  so  that  while  etiquette  and  ceremony  were  parading 
their  ugliness  in  front  of  the  throne,  behind  it,  j^outh  and  beauty 
were  tittering  and  enjoying  the  absurd  j)ageant  in  utter  tliought- 
lessness  of  all  consequences. 

The  mistress  of  ceremonies  was  in  the  act  of  presenting  one  of 
tlie  most  shrivelled  and  most  elaborately  dressed  of  the  ancients, 
when  the  queen,  attracted  by  the  whispering  behind,  turned  her 
head  in  the  direction  of  her  ladies  of  honor.  There  on  the  floor,  sat 
the  Marquise  de  Charente  Tounerre,  imitating  every  gesture  of  the 
old  comtesse;  while  the  others,  including  the  princesses  themselves, 
were  pursing  up  their  lips,  and  smothering  their  laughter  behind 
handkerchiefs  and  fans.  The  drolleries  of  the  marquise  were  too 
much  for  the  queen.  She  turned  away  in  terror,  lest  they  should 
infect  her  with  untimely  levity,  and  just  at  that  moment  the  covi- 
tesse  made  precisely  such  a  courtesy  as  the  marquise  was  making 
behind  her. 

Marie  Antoinette  felt  that  her  dignity  was  departing.  She 
struggled  to  recall  it,  but  in  vain  ;  and  instead  of  the  stately  incli- 


THE  NEW  FASHIONS.  393 

nation  which  it  was  her  duty  to  return,  she  suddenly  opened  her  fan 
to  hide  the  mirth  which  she  was  unable  to  control. 

The  gesture  was  seen  not  only  by  the  austere  mistress  of  cere- 
monies, but  hy  the  cojntesse  herself,  who,  furious  at  the  insult,  looked 
daggers  at  the  queen,  and  omitting  her  third  courtesy,  swept  indig- 
nantly to  her  place. 

A  short  pause  ensued.  Madame  de  Noailles  was  so  shocked  that 
she  forgot  to  give  the  signal  for  another  presentation.  The  queen's 
face  was  still  buried  under  her  fan,  and  the  princesses  had  followed 
her  example.  Discontent  was  manifest  upon  the  countenances  of 
all  present,  and  the  lady  whose  turn  it  was  to  advance  did  so  with 
visible  reluctance. 

Marie  Antoinette  recovered  her  self-possession,  and  looked  with 
perfect  serenity  toward  the  high  and  mighty  duchess,  whose  titles 
were  being  pompously  enumerated  by  the  punctilious  mistress  of 
ceremonies.  As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  this  one  was  older,  uglier, 
and  more  strangely  bedizened  than  all  the  others  together.  The 
queen  felt  a  spasmodic  twitch  of  her  face ;  she  colored  violently, 
and  opening  her  fan  again,  it  was  evident  to  all  that  assemblage  of 
censorious  dames  that  for  the  second  time  youth  and  animal  spirits 
had  prevailed  over  decorum. 

In  vain  Marie  Antoinette  sought  to  repair  the  contretemps.  In 
vain  she  went  among  them  with  her  sweetest  smiles  and  most  gra- 
cious words.  Their  outraged  grandeur  was  not  to  be  appeased— she 
had  offended  beyond  forgiveness. 

The  Areopagus  sent  forth  its  fiat.  The  queen  was  a  frivolous 
woman  ;  she  had  that  worst  of  failings— a  taste  for  satire.  She  de- 
spised all  conventionalities,  and  trampled  all  etiquette  under  foot. 

On  that  day  the  number  of  her  enemies  was  increased  by  more 
than  a  hundred  persons,  who  attacked  her  with  tongues  sharper 
than  two-edged  swords.  The  first  thrust  was  given  her  on  the  morn- 
ing that  followed  the  reception ;  and  the  same  people  who  a  few 
days  before  had  been  singing  her  praises  on  the  Pont-neuf,  were 
equally,  if  not  better  pleased  with  the  ballad  of  "  La  Eeine  moqueuse, " 
of  which  the  cruel  refrain  was  as  follows  : 


"  Petite  reine  de  vingt  ans 
Vous  qui  traitez  si  mal  les  gens, 
Vous  repasserez  la  barriere 
Laire,  laire,  laire,  lanlaire,  lauli 


laula."  * 
CHAPTER  XCVIII. 

THE  NEW  FASHIONS. 

The  queen  had  submitted  to  a  state  of  things  which  she  felt  to 
be  irremediable.  She  had  renounced  all  idea  of  interceding  with 
the  king  for  De  Choiseul,  for  she  felt  tliat  interference  on  her  part 
would  be  resented  ;  and  she  could  not  afford  to  lessen,  by  so  much  as 
a  shade,  the  kindly  feelings  which  her  husband  had  begun  to  mani- 
fest toward  her. 

Louis  appeared  to  have  no  greater  happiness  than  that  which  he 
found  in  his  wife's  society.  They  were  often  seen  wandering  in  the 
shady  walks  of  the  palace  gardens,  talking,  jesting,  and  laughing 
*  "  Memoires  de  Mtidamo  do'  Canipau,"  vol.  i.,  pp.  90,  91. 


394  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

together,  as  might  have  done  any  other  young  couple,  unencum^ 
bered  by  the  burden  of  royalty.  It  hud  even  happened  to  Louis  to 
steal  an  arm  around  the  graceful  form  of  the  queen,  and  once  or 
twice  to  bestow  a  shy  kiss  upon  her  ivory  shoulders. 

The  heart  of  the  king  was  thawing  ;  and  Marie  Antoinette,  who 
had  so  longed  and  pined  for  his  regard,  sometimes  blushed,  while 
with  beating  heart  she  indulged  a  hope  that  the  king  was  falling  in 
love. 

She  sought,  by  every  means  in  her  power,  to  please  him  ;  and 
she  who,  hitherto,  had  seemed  indifferent  to  dress,  now  bestowed 
liours  of  thought  upon  the  toilet  of  the  day. 

Tlie  anti-Austrian  party,  tlie  royal  aunts,  the  brothers  of  tlie 
king,  and  the  Orleans  family,  all  her  enemies,  observed  this  new 
taste  for  dress  with  secret  satisfaction.  Not  one  of  them  suspected 
that  it  was  aimed  at  the  heart  of  the  king  ;  and  that  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, whom  they  were  deriding  as  a  coquette,  was  coquetting  with 
her  husband,  and  dressing  for  him  alone.  So  they  flattered  and 
encouraged  her,  hoping  to  divert  her  mind  from  politics,  and  urge 
her  on  to  ruin. 

The  Duchess  of  Chartres  had  mentioned  to  the  queen  a  Parisian 
modiste,  wlio  had  instituted  a  complete  revolution  in  dress.  This 
wonderful  modiste,  whose  taste  in  modes  was  exquisite,  was  Made- 
moiselle Bertiu.  The  ducliess  had  described  her  dresses,  laces,  caps, 
and  coiffures,  with  so  much  enthusiasm,  that  Marie  Antoinette  grew 
impatient  with  curiosity,  ordered  her  carriage,  and  sent  a  message 
to  Madame  de  Noailles  to  prepare  to  accompany  her  at  once  to  Bertiu 's 
establishment. 

Madame  received  this  message  with  indignation,  and  instead  of 
making  ready  to  obey,  went  in  liot  haste  to  tlie  queen's  reception- 
room. 

"  I  wish  to  drive  to  Bertin's  to  make  some  purchases, "  said  Marie 
Antoinette,  as  her  tormentor  appeared  at  the  door. 

"That  is  impossible,  your  majesty,"  said  the  guardian  of  tlie 
inferno  of  etiquette.  "  No  Queen  of  France  has  ever  set  foot  within 
the  precincts  of  a  shop,  or  has  ever  appeared  in  a  public  place  of 
that  sort.  It  would  be  sucli  an  egregious  breach  of  eticjuette,  that 
I  am  convinced  your  majest}^  will  not  be  guilt}'  of  it." 

"Well,"  said  the  queen,  with  a  scornful  laugh,  "I  will  not  dis- 
turb your  virtuous  convictions.  I  will  not  be  guilty  of  that  whicli 
no  Queen  of  France  has  ever  stooped  to  do,  so  that  you  can  have 
Bertin  sent  to  the  palace,  and  I  can  examine  her  goods  here." 

"  Here  !  Your  majesty  would  receive  a  modiste  in  your  reception- 
room  !  "  cried  De  Noailles,  rolling  up  the  whites  of  her  eyes.  "I 
beseech  your  majesty  to  remember  that  none  but  the  noble  ladies, 
who  have  the  privilege  of  the  tabouret,  are  allowed  to  enter  the 
queen's  reception-room." 

The  queen  bit  her  rosy  lips.  "Well,  then,  madame,"said  she, 
"I  will  receive  Bertin  in  my  own  cabinet.  I  presume  there  can  be 
no  objections  to  that ;  and,  if  there  were,  I  should  certainly  not  heed 
them. " 

"  The  duty  of  my  office,  nevertheless,  obliges  me  to  remark  to 
your — " 

"  There  is  no  office  at  this  court  which  justifies  any  one  in  a  direct 
disobedience  of  the  queen's  orders.  Go,  then,  madame,  and  order 
that  Bertin  be  sent  to  me  in  an  liour." 


THE  NEW  FASHIONS.  395 

"  Oh  !  "  murmured  Marie  Antoinette,  as  the  mistress  of  cere- 
monies slowly  retreated,  "that  woman's  sole  delight  in  life  is  to 
irritate  and  annoy  me  !  " 

An  hour  later,  Mademoiselle  Bertin  made  her  appearance  before 
the  queen.     Four  royal  lackeys  followed  her,  laden  with  band-boxes. 

"  Mademoiselle, "  said  the  queen,  "  have  you  brought  me  the  latest 
fashions? " 

"No,  your  majesty,"  replied  Bertin,  reverentially,  "I  bring  the 
materials  wherewith  to  fill  your  majesty's  orders." 

"Were  you  not  told  to  bring  your  samples  of  fashions?"  asked 
Marie  Antoinette,  with  svirprise. 

"Your  majesty,  there  are  no  new  fashions,"  said  Bertin.  "Your 
majesty's  word  is  necessary  to  create  them.  A  queen  does  not  fol- 
low the  fashion,  it  follows  her." 

"Ah  !  you  intend  tliat  I  shall  invent  new  fashions?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty.  The  Queen  of  France  cannot  stoop  to  wear 
that  which  has  already  been  worn  by  others." 

"  You  are  right, "  said  the  queen,  pleased  by  the  flattery  of  the 
shrewd  modiste.  "Make  haste,  and  show  me  j^our  goods,  that  I 
may  begin  at  once  to  set  the  fasliious  to  the  court.  It  will  be  quite 
an  amusement  to  invent  new  modes  of  dress. " 

Mademoiselle  Bertin  smiled,  and.  opening  her  boxes,  exhibited 
her  goods.  There  were  the  beautiful  silken  fabrics  of  Lyons  ;  the 
shimmering  white  satin,  besprinkled  with  bouquets  that  rivalled 
nature  ;  there  were  heavy,  shiniug  velvets,  heightened  by  embroi- 
dery of  gold  and  silver ;  laces,  from  Alen(j-on  and  Valenciennes, 
whose  web  was  as  delicate  as  though  elfin  fingers,  had  spun  the 
threads  ;  muslins,  from  India,  so  fine  that  they  could  only  be  woven 
in  water  ;  crapes,  from  China,  with  the  softness  of  satin  and  the 
sheen  of  velvet ;  there  were  graceful  ostrich-plumes  from  Africa, 
and  flowers  from  Paris,  so  wondrous  in  their  beauty  that  nothing 
was  wanting  to  their  perfecti(m  save  perfume. 

Marie  Antoinette  flitted  from  one  treasui'e  to  another  ;  her  white 
hands  at  one  moment  deriving  new  beauty  from  the  dark  velvets 
ujaon  which  they  rested  ;  at  another,  looking  lovelier  than  ever,  as 
they  toyed  with  the  transparent  laces.  There  was  nothing  queenly 
about  her  now.  She  was  merely  a  charming  woman,  anxious  to 
outshine  all  other  women  in  the  eyes  of  one  man. 

When  Mademoiselle  Bertin  took  her  leave,  the  queen  gave  her 
orders  to  return  to  the  palace  daily.  "One  thing  I  shall  exact  of 
you,  mademoiselle,  you  shall  disclose  the  secret  of  my  toilet  for  the 
day  to  nobody  ;  and  the  fashions  shall  be  made  public  at  the  end  of 
one  week." 

Mademoiselle  Bertin,  with  a  solemnity  befitting  the  importance  of 
her  ofilce,  swore  that  henceforth  the  hands  which  had  been  honored 
by  caiTyiug  out  the  ideas  of  a  queen,  should  never  work  for  lesser 
mortals  ;  that  her  dresses  should  be  made  with  closed  doors,  and 
that  she  would  rather  be  led  to  execution  than  betray  to  a  living 

soul  the  mysteries  of  her  royal  patroness's  toilet.* 
« 
*  Mademoiselle  Bertin,  from  tliat  day,  became  an  important  personage,  and  re- 
ceived many  a  rich  present  from  noble  ladies  anxious  to  imitate  the  queen  in  dress. 


300  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    XCIX. 

THE  TEMPLE  OF   ETIQUETTE. 

The  hour  for  the  queen's  toilet  was  one  of  ravishment  to  Madame 
de  Noailles  ;  for  it  was  a  daily  glorification  of  that  etiquette  which 
she  worshipped,  and  which  Marie  Antoinette  abhorred.  In  that 
liour,  its  chains  were  on  her  hands  and  feet.  She  could  neither 
breathe,  speak,  nor  move,  but  within  the  narrow  limits  of  its  weary- 
exactions. 

The  queen's  toilet,  then,  was  Madame  de  Noailles'  triumph;  and 
she  always  made  her  appearance  in  the  dressing-room  with  an  air 
of  supreme  satisfaction. 

The  first  lady  of  honor  poured  the  water  into  the  golden  basin, 
and  Marie  Antoinette,  who  at  least  had  the"  privilege  of  washing  her 
own  hands,  stood  patiently  waiting  until  the  towel  had  been  passed 
by  a  lady  of  the  bedchamber  to  the  same  lady  of  honor  who  had 
poured  out  the  water.  The  latter,  on  one  knee,  gave  the  towel,  and 
the  queen  wiped  her  hands. 

The  second  act  of  the  royal  toilet  began  at  the  solemn  moment 
when  the  queen  changed  her  richly -embroidered  night-chemise  for 
the  simiiler  one  she  wore  during  the  day.  This  changing  of  gar- 
ments was  a  sublime  ceremonial,  not  only  in  the  queen's  dressing- 
room,  but  also  in  that  of  the  king.  At  the  king's  great  levee,  none 
but  a  prince  of  the  blood  had  the  right  to  reach  him  his  shirt.  At 
the  lesser  levee,  the  nobleman  whpm  the  king  wished  to  honor,  was 
called  upon  to  fill  this  high  office ;  and  the  enviable  mortal,  thus 
honored,  remained  near  the  king's  person  for  the  whole  day ;  was 
entitled  to  dine  at  the  royal  table,  and  had  a  seat  in  the  king's 
hunting- wagon. 

Now,  at  the  toilet  of  the  queen,  the  ceremonial  was  different ; 
and,  as  in  all  such  matters,  more  onerous  for  the  woman  than  for 
the  man.  The  honor  of  presenting  the  chemise,  devolved  upon  the 
lady  present  whose  rank  was  tlie  highest. 

On  the  particidar  day  to  which  we  allude,  it  was  the  privilege 
of  Madame  de  Noailles.  Marie  Antoinette  had  allowed  her  night- 
dress to  slip  from  her  shoulders,  and  stood,  bare  to  the  waist,  await- 
ing the  pleasure  of  her  mistress  of  ceremonies.  She  crossed  her 
beautiful  arms,  and  bent  lier  head  in  readiness  to  receive  the  che- 
mise, which  the  lady  of  the  bedchamber  was  in  the  act  of  passing  to 
Madame  de  Noailles. 

At  this  moniient  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  arid  the  Duchess 
of  Orleans  entered  the  room.  A  triumphant  smile  lit  up  the  face  of 
Madame  Etiquette,  for  now  the  ceremony  would  be  prolonged.  It  , 
was  no  longer  her  duty,  it  was  that  of  the  ducliess,  to  wait  upon  the 
que(!n.  But  the  proud  Countess  de  Noailles  could  not  condescend  to 
pass  the  garment  to  tlie  duchess.  That  was  the  duty  of  the  aforesaid 
lady  of  tlie  bedcliamber.  The  mistress  of  ceremonies  motioned  her 
to  approach,  and  the  duchess  began  to  draw  off  lier  gloves. 

Meanwhile,  Marie  Antoinette,  with  folded  arms,  stood  beautiful 
as  one  of  Diau's  nymphs,  but  very  uncomfortable  in  her  beauty; 
for  she  was  beginning  to  grow  chilly,  and  her  teeth  chattered.  At 
last  the  preparations  were  made,  and  the  duchess  advanced  with  the 
coveted  garment. 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  ETIQUETTE.  397 

Suddenly  she  stopped,  and  stood  perfectly  still.  She  had  heard 
the  voice  of  "Madame,"  the  Countess  of  Provence;  and  it  would 
have  been  an  unpardonable  siu  for  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  to  deprive 
a  princess  of  the  blood,  of  handing  the  chemise  to  the  queen. 

The  door  opened,  and  the  sister-in-law  of  Marie  Antoinette  came 
in.  The  duchess  retreated— Madame  de  Noailles  aproached  slowly 
and  relieved  her  of  the  chemise,  and  with  unflinching  deliberation, 
again  gave  it  into  the  hands  of  the  lady  of  the  bedchamber. 

And  there  stood  the  queen,  shivering  and  waiting.  Scarlet  with 
shame  and  anger,  though  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  she  mur- 
mured resentful  words  against  her  tormentors.  The  princess  saw  it 
all,  and  hastened  to  her  relief.  Without  stopping  to  remove  her 
gloves,  she  took  the  chemise,  and  advancing,  in  great  haste,  to  throw 
it  over  the  queen's  head,  she  struck  against  her  high  toupet  and  dis- 
arranged the  head-dress. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  sister, "  said  the  queen,  laughing,  "  my  hair  will 
have  to  be  dressed  anew. " 

Madame  de  Noailles  drew  down  her  eyebrows,  as  she  was  accus- 
tomed to  do  when  irritated  by  indecorum,  and  motioned  to  the 
second  lady  of  the  bedchamber  to  put  on  the  queen's  shoes.  The 
royal  toilet  now  went  on  more  smoothly,  and  was  completed  accord- 
ing to  foi-m.  This  done,  it  became  the  duty  of  the  victim  to  pass 
into  her  reception-room,  attended  by  her  ladies.  Madame  de  Noailles 
had  opened  the  door  and  stood  before  it  like  a  she-cerberus  waiting 
for  her  prey  to  pass  within,  when  the  queen,  still  laughing  at  her 
disordered  coiffure,  threw  herself  into  a  chair  before  herc/ieuaZ-glass, 
and  said  : 

"  I  hope,  madame,  that  etiquette  does  not  require  of  the  Queen  of 
France  to  appear  before  her  court  witli  dishevelled  hair.  If  I  may 
be  permitted  to  express  a  preference  in  the  matter,  I  would  like  to 
have  my  hair  in  order. " 

Madame  de  Noailles  closed  the  door,  and  turned  stiffly  to  the 
first  lady  of  the  bedchamber. 

"  Oh,  no, "  said  Marie  Antoinette,  "  I  will  not  trouble  my  good 
Madame  de  Campan  to-day.  Did  my  secretary  fetch  the  hair- 
dresser from  Paris?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty, "  said  a  lady  in  waiting,  "  the  hair-dresser 
is  in  the  outer  room. " 

"Go  and  call  him,  De  Campan.  And  now,  ladies, "  said  Marie 
Antionette  to  the  princesses,  "  you  shall  see  one  of  the  demi-gods. 
Leonard  is  called  in  the  world  of  fashion  '  le  clieu  des  coiffures. '" 

"Leonard!"  exclaimed  Madame  de  Noailles.  "And  has  your 
majesty  then  forgotten  that  the  queen  is  not  permitted  to  be  waited 
upon  by  any  but  womanly  hands?" 

"  The  queen  not  permitted  P'  echoed  Marie  Antoinette,  jiroudly. 
"  We  shall  see  whether  the  Queen  of  France  asks  permission  of  her 
subjects  to  employ  a  male  or  female  hair- dresser  !" 

The  door  opened,  and  the  discussion  was  stopped  by  the  entrance 
of  Madame  de  Campan  with  Leonard. 

"Now,  ladies,"  continued  the  queen,  "be  so  good  as  to  await  me 
in  the  reception-room. "  As  she  saw  that  the  prim  lips  of  De  Noailles 
were  about  to  be  opened,  she  added :  "  The  mistress  of  ceremonies 
and  the  ladies  of  the  bedchamber  will  remain." 

Leonard's  skilful  hands  were  soon  at  work,  loosening  the  queen's 
hair  ;  and  it  glistened,  as  it  fell,  like  glimmering  gold.     He  surveyed 


398  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS   COURT. 

it  with  such  looks  of  enthusiasm  as  a  statuary  might  bestow  upon 
the  spotless  block  of  marble,  whence  he  will  fashion,  ere  long,  the 
statue  of  a  goddess. 

Marie  Antoinette,  from  the  mirror,  saw  his  complacent  face,  and 
smiled.     "What  style  do  you  intend  to  adojit  for  me?"  asked  she. 

"  The  coiffure  a  la  Marie  Antoinette, "  said  Leonard. 

"  I  have  never  seen  it. " 

Here  Leonard  sank  the  subject,  and  became  the  artiste.  His 
head  went  proudly  back  with  a  look  of  conscious  power. 

"  Your  majesty  must  not  think  me  so  barren  of  invention  that 
I  should  deck  the  head  of  my  queen  with  a  coiffure  that  has  been 
seen  before  by  mortal  eyes. " 

"Then  you  are  about  to  invent  a  coiffure  f 

"If  it  please  your  majesty — if  your  majesty  will  condescend  to 
leave  its  fashion  to  the  inspiration  of  my  genius. " 

"Follow  your  inspiration  by  all  means,"  said  the  queen,  highly 
amused,  and  Leonard  began  his  work.  A  long,  solemn  pause  ensued, 
and  all  eyes  were  strained  to  see  the  result.  He  combed  the  queen's 
hair  over  a  trellis  of  fine  wire,  then  he  introduced  two  down  cush- 
ions, which  he  had  brought  in  his  band-box,  and  after  he  had  built 
him  a  tower  of  a  foot  high,  he  took  a  long  breath  and  surveyed  the 
structure.  Then  he  glanced  at  the  toilet-table  where  lay  a  mass  of 
flowers,  feathers,  and  laces,  which  Bartin  had  left. 

"May  I  be  allowed  to  select  from  these?"  asked  he. 

The  queen  nodded,  and  Leonard  chose  a  bimch  of  white  ostrich- 
feathers,  which  he  prepared  to  place  in  her  head. 

"Feathers!"  cried  Marie  Antoinette.  "  You  surely  are  not  going 
to  put  feathers  in  my  hair  !" 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  said  Leonard,  with  an  air  of  supreme 
wisdom,  "  if  I  beg  you  to  allow  me  to  complete  my  coiffure,  before 
you  decide  upon  its  merits. "  And  he  went  to  work  to  fasten  the 
feathers  in  his  tower. 

"This  is  really  becoming,"  said  the  queen,  not  reflecting  that  her 
beautiful  face  with  its  lofty  brow  and  exquisite  contour  could  bear 
any  abomination  with  which  Leonard  chose  to  invest  it. 

"  I  adopt  the  feathers, "  said  she,  "  and  allow  you  to  call  the  coiffure 
after  me.  Poor  ostriches,  they  will  not  thank  me  !  From  this  day 
you  are  in  my  service,  Monsieur  Leonard,  and  my  steward  will 
assign  you  your  apartments. " 

Leonard  bowed  with  the  dignity  of  an  artist  who  feels  that  in 
the  favor  of  his  sovereign  he  receives  his  merited  reward. 

"Come  every  morning  at  this  hour,  and  every  evening  at  seven 
o'clock,"  said  Marie  Antoinette.  "Meanwhile,  you  are  at  liberty 
to  dress  the  hair  of  as  many  ladies  as  j'ou  choose. " 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty, "  interposed  Madame  de  Noailles. 
"  An  old  immutable  regulation  of  the  French  court  forbids  any  per- 
son employed  by  the  royal  family  to  serve  a  subject ;  and  the  coiffeur 
of  the  queen  cannot  be  allowed  to  dress  the  hair  of  any  lady  in 
France. " 

"Nevertheless,  I  give  him  permission  to  dress  as  many  heads  as 
he  pleases,  when  he  is  not  in  attendance  upon  myself.  What  is  the 
use  of  a  man's  taste  and  t.aleut  if  it  is  all  to  be  wasted  on  one  monot- 
onous employment?  Let  Monsieur  Leonard  exercise  his  ingenuity 
upon  different  styles  of  women,  that  he  may  have  scope  for  his  im- 
agination. " 


NEW  FASHIONS  AND  THEIR  UNHAPPY  RESULTS.      399 

The  mistress  of  ceremonies  sighed,  and  opened  the  door.  Marie 
Antoinette  approached  it  gayly,  for  she  was  all  anxiety  to  test  the 
effect  of  her  coiffure  upon  the  ladies  in  waiting. 


CHAPTER    C. 

THE  NKW  FASHIONS  AND  THEIR  UNHAPPY   RESULTS. 

A  MURMUR  of  surprise  and  admiration  was  heard  among  the 
ladies,  when  the  queen  appeared  in  the  reception-room.  The  Countess 
of  Provence  could  scarcely  retain  her  discontent,  as  she  surveyed  the 
magnificent  costume  of  her  beautiful  sister-in-law. 

For  a  few  moments  the  queen  enjoj-ed  the  pleasure  of  being  sin- 
cerely admired.  Then,  advancing  to  the  princess,  she  took  her  hand 
and  said  :  "Oblige  me,  dear  sister,  by  dining  with  the  king  and  mj^- 
self  enfamille.     Let  us  have  a  social  meal  together  to-day." 

"Certainly,  your  majesty,  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure;  bl^t  what 
you  are  pleased  to  call  a  family-dinner  will  lose  all  its  charm  through 
the  cui'iosity  of  your  majesty's  admirers,  who  come  from  Paris, 
from  Versailles,  and  from  all  the  ends  of  the  earth,  to  look  at  the 
royal  family  taking  their  dinner. " 

"  Not  at  all, "  said  the  queen,  eagerly.  "  I  look  upon  this  daily 
exhibition  as  a  tyrannical  custom,  which  must  be  abolished.  It  is 
too  hard  that  we  cannot  have  our  meals  in  private,  but  luust  be 
gazed  at  like  animals,  and  denied  the  privilege  of  confidential  in- 
tercourse. I  have  submitted  to  be  stared  at  for  four  years,  but  the 
queeu  is  not  to  be  ruled  as  the  dauphiness  has  been.  We  shall  dine 
to-day  enfamille,  and  from  this  time  the  public  have  access  to  our 
dining-room  no  more." 

"That  is  delightful  news, "  answered  the  princess,  "but  I  pity 
the  good  people  who  are  coming  in  expectaton  of  seeing  your  majesty 
at  table. " 

"They  will  return  to  their  homes,"  said  the  queen,  slightly  rais- 
ing her  shoulders,  "and  when  they  reflect  coolly  on  the  subject,  they 
will  certainly  not  think  less  of  me  because  I  prefer  to  dine  like  the 
rest  of  the  world.  I  believe  that  if  we  desire  popularity  with  the 
people,  we  must  show  them  that  we  have  feeling  hearts  like  them- 
selves, and  it  is  by  such  means  that  I  hope  to  gain  the  love  of  the 
French  nation." 

The  princess  was  secretly  vexed  at  the  honesty  and  purity  of  the 
queen's  motives,  but  she  forced  a  smile,  and  replied:  "You  have 
already  succeeded  in  doing  so ;  for  the  French  people  adore  you ; 
and  if  they  could  only  see  you  to-day  in  that  inqtiant  head  dress, 
they  would  verify  the  saj-ing  of  the  mayor  of  Paris  :  '  Your  majesty 
beholds  in  us  a  hundred  thousand  lovers. '  " 

Marie  Antoinette  laughed.  "  Quite  a  respectable  army, "  said  she, 
slightly  blushing  ;  "  but  to  complete  its  worth  it  must  be  commanded 
by  the  king.     How  surprised  he  will  be  to  see  us  dining  in  private  !" 

"His  majesty  has  not  been  consulted?" 

"It  is  a  surju-ise  which  I  have  in  store  for  him.  He  has  often 
bewailed  this  stupid  custom,  but  dared  not  complain,  for  fear  of  re- 
marks. I  ain  less  timid  than  he,  and  I  am  about  to  give  you  a  proof 
of  the  same. " 

"  IVIadame  de  Noailles, "  added  she,  aloud,  "  inform  the  ushers  that 


100  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

while  the  royal  family  are  at  dinner  no  strangers  will  be  admitted 
to  the  dining-room.  The  privilege  of  entrance  shall  cease  from  to- 
day." 

The  countess  had  been  awaiting  her  opportunity  to  speak. 

"Your  majesty,"  said  she,  with  an  expression  of  painful  anxiety, 
"  I  entreat  of  you  not  to  revoke  that  privilege !  Believe  me  when  I 
tell  you  that  it  is  dangerous  to  interfere  with  customs  which  are 
so  old  that  the  people  have  grown  to  look  upon  them  as  rights. 
Ever  since  the  days  of  Francis  I.  the  royal  family  has  dined  in 
public,  and  every  decently -clad  person  has  enjoyed  the  privilege  of 
entering  the  banquet-room.  Moreover,  allow  me  to  observe  to  your 
majesty  that  this  public  meal  is  an  express  ceremony  of  the  French 
court,  and  it  is  indispensable  to  its  dignity. " 

"Etiquette,  madame, "  replied  Marie  Antoinette,  "is  not  made 
for  sovereigns,  but  regvlated  by  them.  You  speak  of  the  people's 
rights ;  allow  me  to  claim  something  for  mine.  It  has  ever  been 
the  habit  of  kings  and  queens  to  give  commands,  not  to  receive 
them.  Let  me,  therefore,  advise  you  to  strike  out  from  your  code 
of  etiquette  the  rule  which  obliges  us  to  dine  in  public,  and  to  in- 
sert in  its  stead  the  following :  '  On  days  of  festivals  or  of  public 
rejoicing,  the  people  will  be  admitted  to  the  king's  dining-room. ' 
And  now,  sister,  let  us  take  a  turn  in  the  park. " 

So  saying,  the  queen  took  the  arm  of  the  princess,  and,  followed 
by  the  ladies  in  waiting,  they  went  out  upon  the  terrace.  Madame 
de  Noailles  reinained  behind  in  the  large,  empty  reception-room. 
Her  face  was  pale  and  troubled,  and  she  leaned  despondently  against 
the  high  back  of  an  arm-chair  near  that  from  which  the  queen  had 
just  risen. 

"  Royalty  totters  on  its  throne  !"  murmured  she,  in  a  low  voice. 
"This  woman's  bold  hand  is  shaking  the  pillars  of  her  own  temple, 
and  when  it  falls  it  will  bury  both  king  and  queen  under  its  frag- 
ments. She  laughs  at  etiquette  as  ridiculous  despotism  ;  she  does 
not  know  that  it  is  the  halo  that  renders  her  sacred  in  the  eyes  of 
the  people.  I  see  the  tempest  lowering, "  continued  the  mistress  of 
ceremonies,  after  a  thoughtful  jjause.  "  The  queen  is  surrounded  by 
enemies  whom  she  defies,  and  those  who  would  be  her  friends  she 
alienates  by  her  haughtiness.  In  the  innocence  of  her  thoughtless 
heart,  what  unhappy  precedents  has  she  established  this  day  !  They 
are  the  dragon's  teeth  that  will  grow  armed  men  to  destroy  their 
sower.  She  despises  conventionalities  and  braves  old  customs.  She 
does  not  know  how  dearly  she  will  pay  for  her  milliner,  her  hair- 
dresser, and  her  dinners  in  private  !  I  have  done  my  duty.  I  have 
warned  and  remonstrated,  and  will  continue  to  do  so  as  long  as  my 
patience  and  lionor  can  endure  the  humiliations  to  which  I  am  ex- 
posed—but no  longer  !     By  the  Heaven  that  hears  me — no  longer  !" 

The  countess  was  right.  The  apparently  trifling  incidents  of  the 
day  were  fraught  with  mournful  consequences  to  the  queen.  Here- 
tofore she  had  been  remarked  for  her  simplicity  of  dress  ;  from  the 
introduction  of  Bertiu  and  Leonard  into  her  household  she  dressed 
witli  rare  magnificence.  Not  only  the  ladies  of  the  court,  but  those 
of  the  city,  followed  her  extravagance  at  a  distance.  They  must 
wear  the  same  jewels,  tlie  same  flowers,  the  same  costly  silks  and 
laces.  Ostrich-feathers  became  the  rage,  and  they  were  soon  so 
scarce  tliat  fal)idous  prices  were  paid  to  import  them  for  the  use  of 
the  Frenchwomen. 


SUNRISE.  401 

The  trousseau  of  a  youug  l^eauty  became  as  important  as  her 
dowry.  Mothers  and  husbands  sighed,  and  at  last  ended  by  abusing 
the  queen.  It  was  she  who  had  set  the  example  of  this  wasteful 
luxury  in  dress  ;  she  who  had  bewitched  all  the  women,  so  that  they 
had  gone  mad  for  a  feather  or  a  flower.  Strife  was  in  every  house. 
Parents  were  at  variance  with  their  children  ;  marriages  were  broken 
off  through  the  exactions  of  the  brides  ;  and  on  all  sides  the  blame 
of  everybody's  domestic  troubles  fell  upon  the  shoulders  of  the 
queen.  * 


CHAPTER  CI. 

SUNRISE. 

•  The  court  had  now  moved  to  Marly.  Each  day  brought  its  vari- 
ety of  sports,  and  the  palace  became  the  very  shrine  of  pleasure. 
Even  the  king,  fascinated  by  his  wife's  grace  and  gayety,  lost  his 
awkward  bearing,  and  became  a  devoted  lover.  He  was  ready  to 
gratify  every  whim  of  hers  without  ever  inquiring  whether  it  was 
consistent  with  the  dignity  and  station  of  a  queen.  True,  all  her 
whims  were  innocent  in  themselves  ;  but  some  of  them  were  child- 
ish, and  therefore  inappropriate  to  her  position. 

Tlie  king  grew  so  bold  that  he  paid  graceful  compliments  to  the 
queen  on  the  subject  of  her  beauty  ;  and  in  the  exuberance  of  his 
young,  gushing  love,  he  went  beyond  his  courtiers  in  felicity  of 
expression,  so  that  finally  he  became  more  eloquent  than  D'Artois, 
more  impassioned  than  De  Chartres,  and  more  picjuant  than  De 
Provence. 

Marie  Antoinette  beheld  this  transformation  with  rapture  ;  and 
her  little  innocent  coquetries  with  the  princes  and  noblemen  of  the 
court  had  but  one  aim — that  of  heightening  the  effect  of  her  charms 
upon  her  royal  husband. 

" One  of  these  days, "  thought  she,  "he  will  learn  to  love  me.  I 
await  this  day,  as  Nature  throughout  her  dark  winter  nights,  awaits 
the  rising  of  the  glorious  sun.  Oh  how  happy  will  I  be  when  the 
morning  of  my  wedded  love  has  dawned  !" 

"But," — added  she,  interrupting  herself  and  smiling,  "what  a, 
simpleton  I  am  with  my  similes  ;  like  a  blind  man  enraptured  with 
a  color  !  I  talk  of  sunrise — I,  who  am  such  a  barbarian  that  I  never 
saw  the  day  dawn  in  my  life  ! — And  to  think  that  the  French  are  so 
fond  of  comparing  me  to  the  rising  sun  !  I  think  I  had  better  make 
acquaintance  with  the  original  of  which  I  hear  so  often  that  I  am 
the  copy  !" 

So  the  queen,  full  of  a  new  idea,  sent  for  the  Countess  de  Noailles. 

"Madame,"  said  she,  "can  you  tell  me  at  what  hour  the  sun 
rises  ?" 

"  When  the  sun  rises  !"  exclaimed  madame,  wdio  had  hardly  ever 
taken  the  trouble  to  remember  that  the  sun  rose  at  all. 

"Yes,  madame,  I  wish  to  know  at  what  hour  the  sun  rises  ;  and 
I  hope  there  is  nothing  in  your  code  of  etiquette  which  forbids  the 
Queen  of  France  to  aspire  to  a  knowledge  of  that  very  commonplace 
fact. " 

"  I  regret,  your  majesty,  that  I  cannot  enlighten  you,  for  I  have 

*  Madame  Campan,  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  page  96. 


402  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

never  felt  any  interest  in  the  matter.     But  if  you  allow  me,  I  will 
make  the  necessary  inquiries.  " 

"  Do  so,  if  you  please,  niadame. " 

Madame  de  Noailles  was  absent  for  some  time.  At  last  she  re- 
turned. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  that  I  have  been  away  so  long.  But 
no  one  in  the  palace  could  give  me  tlie  information  I  sought.  Luck- 
ily, in  passing  one  of  the  corridors,  I  met  a  gardener  coming  in  with 
fresh  flowers  for  your  majestj^'s  cabinet,  and  he  was  able  to  tell  me. 
The  sun  rises  at  j^resent  at  three  o'clock." 

'"Thank  you.  Be  so  good  as  to  make  your  arrangements  accord- 
ingly. I  shall  get  up  at  three  o'clock  to-morrow  morning  and  go 
out  upon  the  liillock  in  the  garden  to  see  the  dawn  of  day. " 

"Your  majesty  would  go  out  into  the  garden  at  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning?"  said  madame,  almost  fainting  with  horror. 

"  Yes,  madame, "  said  Marie  Antoinette,  with  decision.  "  Is  there 
any  law  in  France  to  forbid  me  a  sight  of  the  sun  at  that  hour?" 

"No,  your  majesty,  for  sucli  an  extraordinary  demand  could  never 
have  been  presupposed.  Since  France  was  a  kingdom,  no  Queen  of 
France  has  ever  been  known  to  indulge  a  wish  to  see  the  svm  rise. " 

"  Unhappy  queens  !  I  suppose  they  were  so  profoundly  engaged 
in  tlie  study  of  your  favorite  code,  that  they  had  no  time  to  admire 
the  works  of  God.  But  you  see  tliat  I  am  an  eccentric  queen,  and  I 
would  go  in  all  humility  to  adore  Him  through  one  of  Ills  glorious 
works.  And  as,  luckily  for  me,  etiquette  has  never  legislated  on 
the  svibject,  j'ou  have  no  grounds  for  objection,  and  I  shall  commit 
the  astoiinding  indiscretion  of  going  out  to  see  the  sun  rise." 

"Still,  your  majesty  must  allow  me  to  say  that  for  all  extraordi- 
nary cases  not  provided  for  in  the  code  of  etiquette,  the  queen  must 
have  the  consent  of  the  king. " 

"  Do  not  concern  yourself  about  that ;  I  shall  express  my  desire 
to  tlie  king,  and  that  will  suffice.  My  ladies  in  waiting  who  keep 
diaries  can  then  note,  with  quiet  conscience,  that  on  this  day  the 
Queen  of  France,  with  tlie  consent  of  her  husband,  went  into  the 
garden  to  see  the  sun  rise. " 

Marie  Antoinette  slightly  inclined  her  head,  and  passed  into  lier 
dressing-room,  there  to  put  herself  in  the  hands  of  Monsieur  Leonard. 
The  skilful  hair-dresser  was  in  his  happiest  vein  ;  and  when  he  had 
achieved  the  great  labor  of  his  day,  the  queen  was  inexpressibly 
charming. 

Conformably  to  her  wishes,  many  irksome  court  customs  had 
been  laid  aside  at  Marly.  The  strict  lines  of  demarcation  betweeu 
royalty  and  nobility  no  longer  hampered  the  daily  intercourse  of  the 
sovereigns  and  their  subjects.  The  lords  and  ladies  in  waiting  were 
at  liberty  to  join  the  queen's  circle  in  the  drawing- rooms,  or  to 
group  themselves  together  as  inclination  prompted.  Some  talked 
over  the  events  of  the  day,  some  discussed  the  new  books  which  lay 
in  heaps  upon  a  table  in  one  of  the  saloons ;  others,  again,  played 
billiards  with  the  king. 

To-day  tlie  court  was  assembled  in  an  apartment  opening  into 
the  garden  ;  and  the  (pieen,  who  had  just  made  her  appearance  in  all 
the  splendor  of  her  regal  beauty,  was  the  cynosure  of  attraction  and 
of  admiration.  She  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  her  eyes  fixed 
wistfully  u])on  the  setting  sun,  whose  dying  rays  were  flooding  park, 
terrace,  and  even  the  spot  on  which  she  stood,  with  a  red  and  golden 


SUNRISE.  403 

light.  By  her  side  stood  the  king,  his  mild  countenance  illumined 
with  joy  and  admiration  of  his  young  wife's  surpassing  loveliness. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  queen  were  the  princes  and  princesses  of 
the  blood  ;  and  around  the  royal  group  an  assemblage  of  the  young- 
est, prettiest,  and  sprightliest  women  of  the  aristocracy,  escorted  by 
tlieir  cavaliers,  3'oung  nobles  whose  rank,  worth,  and  culture  entitled 
them  to  all  the  favor  which  they  enjoyed  at  court.  At  the  head  of 
the  wits  were  the  Count  de  Provence,  the  Count  d'Artois,  and  their 
kinsman,  the  Duke  de  Chartres,  known  years  afterward  as  "Philippe 
Egalite. "  De  Chartres  and  the  witty  Duke  de  Lauzun  were  among 
the  most  entliusiastic  admirers  of  the  queen. 

The  French  court  was  in  tlie  zenith  of  its  splendor.  Youth  and 
l)eauty  were  the  rule,  age  was  the  exception  ;  and  in  the  saloons  of 
Marie  Antoinette,  its  solitary  representatives  frowned  throygh  the 
deep  and  angry  furrows  that  dented  the  wrinkled  visage  of  Madame 
de  Noailles. 

To-day  the  high -priestess  of  etiquette  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
liberty  alloweil  to  all,  and  had  absented  herself.  Her  absence  was 
a  sensible  relief  to  a  court  where  no  man  was  older  than  the  king, 
and  many  a  woman  was  as  young  as  the  queen. 

For  a  time  Marie  Antoinette's  glance  lingered  caressingly  upon 
the  garden,  through  whose  perfumed  alleys  the  evening  wind  was 
rustling  with  a  sweet,  low  song.  The  court,  following  the  mood  of 
the  queen,  kept  perfectly  silent.  Of  what  were  they  thinking?  that 
crowd  of  youthful  tritlers,  so  many  of  whom  were  hurrying  to  the 
bloody  destiny  which  made  heroes  of  coxcombs  and  heroines  of 
coquettes  ! 

Suddenly  the  expression  of  the  queen's  face,  which  liad  been 
thoughtful  and  solemn,  changed  to  its  usual  frankness  and  gayety. 
"  Ladies  and  gentlemen, "  said  she,  in  that  clear,  rich  voice  of  Iiers, 
which  always  reminded  one  of  little  silver  bells,  "I  have  a  riddle  to 
propose. " 

"A  riddle  !"  echoed  the  company,  crowding  around  to  hear. 

"  Yes,  a  riddle,  and  woe  to  those  who  cannot  guess  it !  They 
will  be  sentenced  to  sit  up  this  whole  night  long.  " 

•'  A  severe  sentence, "  said  the  king,  with  a  sigh.  "  May  I  not  be  one 
of  the  condemned '?     Well,  then,  lovely  sphinx,  tell  us  your  riddle." 

"Listen  all!"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  "and strain  your  every  fac- 
ulty to  its  solution.  Princes  and  princesses,  lords  and  ladies,  can 
you  tell  me  at  what  hour  the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow?" 

The  perplexed  company  looked  at  one  another.  Everybody  seemed 
puzzled  except  the  king.  He  alone  smiled,  and  watched  the  coun- 
tenances of  the  others. 

"Come,  gentlemen,  you  who  are  fed  on  the  sciences — come, 
ladies,  you  so  expert  to  guess — will  none  of  you  solve  my  riddle?" 
cried  the  lively  queen.  "You,  brother  Philip,  who  know  all  things, 
have  you  never  asked  this  question  of  the  sun  ?" 

"  I  interest  myself,  dear  sister,  in  matters  which  concern  myself, 
my  family,  and  France, "  replied  the  Count  de  Provence,  not  over- 
pleased  at  the  appeal.  "The  sun,  which  belongs  to  another  world, 
has  no  share  in  my  studies  or  my  meditations. " 

"  Condemned, "  said  the  queen,  with  a  merry  laugh.  "  No  sleep 
for  you  to-night.  And  you,  brother  d'Artois,  who  are  such  a  dev- 
otee of  beauty,  have  you  never  w-orshipped  at  the  shrine  of  solar 
magnificence?" 


404  JOSEPH  II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

"  The  sun  rose  in  this  room,  your  irtajesty,  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  ago, "  said  Count  d'Artois,  bowing.  "I  can,  therefore,  safely 
say  that  in  the  chateau  of  Marly  it  usually  rises  at  eight  o'clock. " 

"Compliments  will  not  save  you,  D'Artois;  you  shall  not  goto 
sleep  this  night.  And  what  say  you,  my  sisters-in-law,  and  our 
dear  Elizabeth?" 

"Oh,  we  dare  not  be  wiser  than  our  husbands  !"  said  the  Countess 
de  Provence,  quickly. 

"Then  you  shall  share  their  fate,"  returned  Marie  Antoinette. 
"  And  now, "  continued  she,  "  cousin  de  Chartres,  it  is  said  that  your 
merry-making  sometimes  lasts  until  morning.  You,  then,  must  be 
intimately  acquainted  with  the  habits  of  the  rising  sun. " 

"ilia/oi,"  said  the  duke,  with  a  careless  laugh,  "your  majesty 
is  right.  My  vigils  are  frequent ;  but  if  returning  thence,  I  have 
ever  met  with  the  sun,  I  have  mistaken  it  for  a  street- lantern,  and 
have  never  given  a  second  thought  to  the  matter. " 

"Nobody,  then,  in  this  aristocratic  assemblage,  knows  aught 
about  the  rising  of  the  sun, "  said  the  queen. 

A  profound  silence  greeted  the  remark.  The  queen's  face  grew 
pensive,  and  gradually  deepened  into  sadness. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  she,  with  a  sigh,  "what  egotists  we  are  in 
high  life  !  We  expect  heaven  to  shield  and  sustain  us  in  our  gran- 
deur, and  never  a  thought  do  we  return  to  heaven. " 

"Am  I  not  to  be  allowed  the  privilege  of  guessing,  madame?" 
asked  the  king. 

"  You,  sire  !"  said  Marie  Antoinette.  "  It  does  not  become  the 
king's  subjects  to  put  questions  to  him,  which  he  might  not  be  able 
to  answer. " 

"  Nevertheless,  I  request  your  majesty  to  give  me  a  trial. " 

"  Very  well,  sire.  Can  you  read  my  riddle,  and  tell  me  at  what 
hour  the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty.  The  sun  will  rise  at  three  o'clock,"  said 
Louis,  with  a  triumphant  smile. 

Everybody  wondered.  Marie  Antoinette  laughed  her  silvery 
laugh,  and  clapped  her  little  white  hands  with  joy.  "Bravo,  bravo, 
my  royal  Q^^dipus!"  cried  she,  gayly.  "The  sphinx  is  overcome; 
but  she  will  not  throw  herself  into  the  sea  just  yet.  She  is  too  happy 
to  bend  the  knee  before  her  husband's  erudition." 

With  bewitching  grace,  the  queen  inclined  her  beautiful  head 
and  knelt  before  the  king.  But  Louis,  blushing  with  gratification, 
clasped  her  hands  in  his,  and  raised  her  tenderly  to  her  feet. 

"  Madame, "  said  he,  "  if  I  had  the  tact  and  wit  of  my  brother 
Charles,  I  would  say  that  the  sun,  which  so  lately  has  risen,  must 
not  set  so  soon  upon  its  worshippers.  But  answer  me  one  question 
— what  is  the  meaning  of  the  riddle  with  which  your  majesty  has 
been  entertaining  usV" 

"May  I  answer  with  another  question?  Tell  me,  sire,  have  you 
ever  seen  the  sun  rise  ?  " 

"I?     No,  your  majesty.     I  confess  that  I  never  have. " 

"And  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen?" 

"I  can  answer  for  all  that  they  have  not,"  laughed  D'Artois. 

"Now,  sire,"  said  the  queen,  again  addressing  her  husband,  "tell 
me  one  thing.  Is  it  unseemly  for  a  Queen  of  France  to  see  the  sun 
rise?" 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  the  king,  laughing  heartily. 


SUNRISE.  405 

"Then  will  your  majesty  allow  me  to  enjoy  that  pririlege?" 

"  It  seems  to  me,  maclame,  that  you  have  no  consent  to  ask  save 
that  of  your  own  bright  eyes.  If  they  promise  to  remain  open  all 
night,  you  have  no  one  to  consult  on  the  subject  but  yourself. " 

"  I  thank  your  majesty, "  said  the  queen.  '•  And  now,  as  none  of 
the  company  were  able  to  solve  my  riddle,  all  must  prepare  to  sit  up 
with  me.  May  I  hope,  sire,  that  you  will  be  magnanimous  enough 
to  relinquish  the  right  you  have  earned  to  retire,  and  afford  me  the 
happiness  of  your  presence  also?" 

Louis  looked  quite  discomfited,  and  was  about  to  stammer  out 
some  awkward  reply,  when  the  marshal  of  the  household  threw  open 
the  doors  of  the  banquet- hall,  and  approaching  the  king,  cried  out, 
"  Le  roi  est  servi. " 

"Ah!"  said  he,  much  relieved,  "let  us  refresh  ourselves  for  the 
vigil. " 

Dinner  over,  the  company  promenaded  in  the  gardens  for  an 
hour,  and  then  returned  to  the  drawing-room  to  await  the  compul- 
sory privilege  of  seeing  the  sun  rise.  Marie  Antoinette,  with  the 
impatience  of  a  child,  was  continually  going  out  upon  the  terrace 
to  see  how  the  night  waned  ;  but  the  moon  was  up,  and  the  gardens 
of  Marly  were  bathed  in  a  silver  light  that  was  any  thing  but  indica- 
tive of  the  dawn  of  day. 

The  scene  was  so  calm  and  lovely,  that  the  young  queen  returned 
to  the  drawing-room  in  search  of  the  king,  hoping  to  woo  him  to 
the  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful  nature,  which  was  elevating  her 
thoughts  far  above  the  kingdoms  of  earth  and  peacefully  leading  her 
heart  to  Heaven.  But  the  king  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  and  as 
she  was  seeking  him  first  in  one  room,  then  in  another,  she  met  the 
Count  de  Provence. 

I  am  charged,  madame,"  said  he,  "with  an  apology  from  the 
king.  His  majesty  begs  that  you  will  pardon  him  for  making  use 
of  his  right  to  retire.  He  hopes  that  your  majest)^  will  not  enjoy 
your  night  the  less  for  his  absence."  * 

The  queen  colored  to  her  brows,  and  her  expressive  face  gave 
token  of  serious  annoyance.  She  was  about  to  dismiss  the  company, 
saying  that  she  had  changed  her  mind,  but  she  remembered  that  by 
so  doing  she  might  become  the  subject  of  the  ridicule  of  the  court. 
Her  pride  whispered  her  to  remain,  and  smothered  her  instinctive 
sense  of  propriety.  She  looked  anxiously  around  for  Madame  de 
Noailles,  but  on  the  first  occasion,  when  her  advice  might  have  been 
welcome,  she  was  absent.  She  had  been  told  that  etiquette  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  queen's  party  of  pleasure,  and  she,  like  the 
king,  had  retired  to  rest. 

Marie  Antoinette  then  motioned  to  her  first  lady  of  honor,  the 
Princess  de  Chimay,  and  requested  her  to  say  to  Madame  de  Noailles 
that  her  presence  would  be  required  in  the  drawing-room  at  two 
o'clock,  when  tlie  court  would  set  out  for  the  hill,  from  whence  they 
would  witness  the  dawn  of  the  morrow. 

"It  is  an  unconscionable  time  coming,"  yawned  the  Countess 
de  Provence.  "See,  my  dear  sister,  the  hand  of  the  clock  points 
to  midnight.  What  are  we  to  do  in  the  interim?"  asked  she, 
peevishly. 

"  Propose  something  to  while  away  the  time, "  said  the  queen, 
smiling. 

*  Campau,  vol.  i.,  p.  98. 


406  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Let  us  depute  D'Artois  to  do  it.  He  is  readier  at  such  things 
than  the  rest  of  us, "  said  the  princess. 

"Does  your  majesty  second  the  proposal?"  asked  D'Artois. 

"I  do  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Then, "  said  the  thoughtless  prince,  "  I  propose  that  we  play  the 
most  innocent  and  rollicking  of  games — blindman's  buff."  * 

A  shout  of  laughter,,  in  which  the  young  queen  joined,  was  the 
response  to  this  proposition. 

"I  was  charged  with  the  duty  of  relieving  the  tedium  of  the 
court, "  continued  the  prince  gravely.  "  I  once  more  propose  the  ex- 
citing game  of  blindman's  buff."  f 

"  We  are  bound  to  accede, "  replied  the  queen,  forgetting  her  em- 
barrassment of  the  moment  before.  "  Let  us  try  to  recall  the  happy 
days  of  our  childhood.  Let  us  play  blindman's  buff  until  the  sun 
risQs  and  transforms  the  children  of  the  night  once  more  into  earnest 
and  reasoning  mortals." 


CHAPTER    CII. 

THE     FOLLOWING    DAY. 

The  queen  was  alone  in  her  cabinet,  which  she  had  not  left  since 
she  had  seen  the  sun  rise.  She  had  taken  cold  in  the  garden,  and  as 
a  souvenir  of  the  event,  had  carried  home  a  fever  and  a  cough.  But 
it  was  not  indisposition  alone  which  blanched  her  cheeks.  Some- 
thing mightier  than  fever  glowed  in  her  flashing  eyes,  something 
more  painful  than  malady  threw  that  deadly  paleness  over  her  sweet, 
innocent  face.  From  time  to  time  she  glanced  at  a  paper  lying  on 
the  table  before  her,  and  every  time  her  eye  fell  upon  it  her  brow 
grew  darker. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  She  started,  and  murmuring — 
"The  king!" — she  flung  her  handkerchief  over  the  papers,  and 
throwing  back  her  head,  compelled  herself  to  calmness  ;  while  her 
husband,  lifting  the  silken  portiere,  advanced  toward  the  table. 
She  tried  to  rise,  but  Louis  came  hastily  to  prevent  it,  saying:  "I 
come  to  make  inquiries  concerning  your  health  ;  but  if  my  presence 
is  to  disturb  yovi,  I  shall  retire." 

"Remain,  tlien,  sire — I  will  not  rise,"  said  the  queen,  with  a  lan- 
guid smile. 

"Are  you  still  suffering?"  said  Louis. 

"Only  frona  a  cold,  sire  ;  it  will  pass  away." 

"A  cold,  for  wliich  you  are  indebted  to  the  chill  night-air.  It 
■would  appear  tliatthe  Queens  of  France,  who  lived  and  died  without 
seeing  the  sun  rise,  were  not  so  stupid,  after  all." 

The  queen  gave  a  searching  look  at  the  king's  face,  and  saw  that 
it  was  disturbed. 

"I  went  with  yovir  majesty's  consent." 

"I  believe  that  I  was  wrong  to  give  it,  "returned  he,  thought- 
fully ;  "  I  should  have  remembered  that  for  a  hundred  years  past  the 

*Oampaa,  vol.  i.,  p.  98. 

tTlii.s  {,'anio  was  frequently  played  in  the  courtly  cii-cles,  and  not  only  in  aristo- 
cratic, houses,  hut  in  all  social  patherinKs.  It  hccaiiie  the  fashion.  Madame de  Gon- 
)is,  who  was  fond  of  scourging  the  follies  of  her  day,  made  this  fashion  the  subject 
of  one  of  her  dramas. 


THE  FOLLOWING  DAY.  407 

court  of  France  has  been  so  corrupt  that  unhappily  the  French  nation 
have  lost  all  faith  in  chastit};  and  jjurity  of  heart.  You,  niadame, 
must  teach  them  to  distinguish  the  innocence  which  has  nothing 
to  conceal,  from  the  depravity  which  has  lost  all  shame.  But  we 
must  be  cautious,  and  so  conduct  ourselves,  that  our  actions  may  be 
beyond  misconstruction. " 

"Your  majesty  wishes  me  to  infer  that  my  harmless  desire  to 
behold  one  of  the  glorious  works  of  my  Maker,  has  been  misinter- 
preted?" said  the  queen,  opening  her  large  eyes  full  upon  her 
husband. 

The  king  avoided  her  glance. 

"No,  no,"  said  he,  with  embarrassment.  "I  speak  not  of  what 
has  been,  but  of  what  might  be." 

"  And  this  most  innocent  of  wishes  has  inspired  your  majesty 
with  these  apprehensions?" 

"I  do  not  say  so,  but — "  ' 

"But  your  majesty  knows  that  it  is  so,"  cried  the  queen.  "It  is 
very  generous  of  you  to  save  my  feelings  by  concealing  that  which 
you  know  must  subject  me  to  mortification  ;  but  others  here  are 
less  magnanimous  than  you,  sire.  I  have  already  seen  the  obscene 
libel  to  which  my  pleasure  party  has  given  birth.  I  have  read  '  Le 
lever  de  I'aurore.'" 

"Who  has  dared  to  insult  you  by  the  sight  of  it?"  asked  Louis, 
indignantly. 

"Oh,  sire,"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  bitterly,  "there  are  always 
good  friends,  who  are  ready  to  wound  us  with  the  weapons  of  others. 
I  found  the  lampoon  on  my  table  this  morning,  among  my  letters. " 

"  You  shall  not  be  exposed  to  a  repetition  of  this.  Campan  shall 
look  over  your  papers  before  he  presents  them. " 

"Do  you  think  I  am  likely  to  find  them  often,  sire?  I  hope  not. 
But  be  that  as  it  may,  I  am  no  coward.  I  have  courage  to  face  any 
amount  of  calumny — for  my  heart  is  pure,  and  my  life  will  vindicate 
me. " 

"It  will,  indeed,"  said  the  king,  tenderly.  "But  you  must  keep 
aloof  from  the  poisonous  atmosphere  of  slander.  We  must  live  less 
among  the  multitude. " 

"Ah,  sire,  how  can  we  keep  aloof  from  those  who  have  the  right 
to  be  near  us  ?" 

The  king  started,  almost  imperceptibly,  and  his  anxious  glance 
rested  upon  his  wife's  honest,  truthful  eyes.  Removing  her  hand- 
kerchief, she  pointed  to  a  paper. 

"This  is  the  envelope  in  which  I  found 'Le  lever  de  I'aui'ore.' 
The  handwriting  is  disguised  ;  but  tell  me  frankly  if  you  do  not 
recognize  it.     I  do. " 

"  I  —really — I  may  be  mistaken, "  began  the  king,  "  but — " 

"  Nay,  you  see  that  it  is  the  hand  of  the  Count  de  Provence,  your 
own  brother,  sire.  He  it  is,  who  enjoys  the  cruel  satisfaction  of 
having  forced  this  indecent  libel  upon  my  notice,  and  I  doubt  not 
for  one  moment  that  he  also  is  the  one  who  sent  it  to  you. " 

"Yes,  no  doubt,  he  did  it  to  warn  us,  and  we  must  be  grateful 
and  take  the  warning  to  our  hearts. " 

The  queen  laughed  scornfully. 

"Does  your  majesty  suppose  that  these  drawings  were  made  with 
the  same  benevolent  intention?"  said  she,  handing  him  a  second 
paper.     "Look  at  these  indecent  caricatures,  made  still  more  ob- 

27 


408  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

noxious  by  the  vulgar  observations  attached  to  them.  There  is  no 
disguise  of  his  handwriting  here,  for  this  was  not  intended  for  my 
eye. " 

"  Too  true, "  sighed  the  king — "  the  drawings  and  the  writing  are 
both  my  brother's.  But  who  can  have  sent  you  these  sliameful 
sketches  ?" 

"  I  told  you  just  now,  sire,  that  there  are  always  people  to  be 
found,  who  stab  their  friends  with  borrowed  weapons.  The  draw- 
ings were  accompanied  by  a  letter,  informing  me,  that  they  were 
executed  in  the  saloons  of  Madame  Adelaide,  and  that  the  remarks 
were  the  joint  productions  of  your  majesty's  brother  and  your 
aunts. " 

The  king  passed  his  handkerchief  over  his  forehead,  to  dry  the 
heavy  drops  of  sweat  that  were  gathering  there,  and  rose  up,  with 
the  paper  in  his  hand. 

"Where  is  your  majesty  going?"  asked  the  queen. 

"  To  my  brother, "  cried  he,  indignantly.  "  I  will  show  him  this 
disgraceful  paper,  and  ask  by  what  right  he  outrages  mj-  wife  and 
his  queen  !  I  shall  tell  him  that  his  actions  are  those  of  a  traitor 
and—" 

"  And  when  you  have  told  him  that,  will  you  punish  him  as 
kings  punish  tiaitors?" 

The  king  was  silent,  and  the  queen  continued,  with  a  sad  smile. 

"You  could  not  punish  him;  for  the  traitor  who  outrages  the 
queen  is  the  brother  of  the  king,  and,  therefore,  he  can  outrage 
with  impunity." 

"  He  shall  not  do  it  with  impunity  !  I  will  force  him  to  honor 
and  love  you. " 

"Ah,  sire,  love  will  not  yield  to  force,"  said  Marie  Antoinette, 
in  a  tone  of  anguish.  "Were  I  as  pure  as  an  angel,  the  Count  de 
Provence  would  hate  me  for  my  Austrian  birtli,  and  Madame  Ade- 
laide would  use  the  great  influence  she  possesses  over  your  majesty 
to  rob  me  of  the  little  favor  I  am  gaining  in  your  sight. " 

"01),  Antoinette,  do  you  not  feel  that  my  whole  heart  is  yours?" 
said  Louis,  affectionately.  "  Believe  me,  when  I  say  that  it  is  in  the 
power  of  no  human  being  to  sully  your  sweet  image  in  my  eyes. 
Do  not  fear  the  royal  family.  I  am  here  to  protect  you,  and,  soon 
or  late,  your  worth  will  overcome  their  prejudices. " 

"  No,  sire,  no.  Nothing  will  ever  win  me  their  regard.  But  I 
am  resolved  to  brave  their  enmity,  satisfied  that,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  my  conduct  and  my  conscience  both  will  sustain  me. " 

"  Yovir  husband  also,"  said  the  king,  kissing  her  hand. 

"Sire,  I  hope  so,"  said  Marie  Antoinette,  in  a  tremulous  voice. 
"  And  now, "  continued  she,  dashing  away  the  tear-drops  that  were 
gathering  in  her  eyes,  "now  give  me  those  cai'icatures.  Tliey  have 
served  to  convince  your  majesty  that  I  know  my  ejaemies — and  defy 
them.  Their  mission  is  accomplished  ;  let  us  try  t)  forget  their 
existence. " 

She  took  the  drawings  from  his  hand,  and,  tearing  them  to  pieces, 
scattered  them  over  the  carpet.  The  king  picked  up  a  few  of  the 
fragments. 

"Will  5'ou  allow  me  to  retain  these  as  a  souvenir  of  this  hour?" 
said  he,  gazing  fondly  upon  her  sweet  face. 

"Certainly,  sire." 

"  But  you  know  that  princes  can  never  receive  a  gift  without  re- 


THE  FOLLOWING  DAY.  409 

turning  one.     Therefore,  do  me  the  favor  to  accept  this.    It  is  paper 
for  paper. " 

He  drew  from  his  boaom  a  little  package,  to  which  the  royal 
seal  was  affixed,  and  Marie  Antoinette  took  it,  with  a  glance  of 
surprise. 

"What  can  it  be?"  said  she,  as  she  unfolded  it. 
He  watched  her  as  she  read  ;  and  thought  how  beautiful  she  was, 
as,  blushing  and  smiling,  she  held  out  her  hand  to  thank  him. 

"How,  sire,"  said  she,  joyfully,  "you  make  me  this  royal  gift?" 
"If  you  will  accept  it.  The  chateau  de  Trianon  is  a  small 
estate,  but  its  mistress  may  at  least  find  it  a  home  where  she  will 
have  liberty  to  enjoy  nature  without  exciting  tlie  malevolence  of 
her  enemies.  No  one  can  watch  you  tliere,  Antoinette;  for  your 
castle  is  not  large  enough  to  lodge  your  slanderers.  It  will  scarcely 
accommodate  your  friends. " 

"How  can  I  ever  thank  you,  sire?"  said  she,  in  grateful  accents. 
"You  have  understood  my  heart,  and  have  gratified  its  weary  long- 
ings for  occasional  solitude.     This,  then,  is  my  own  private  domain  ?" 
"  Certainly. " 

"And  I  may  rule  there  without  interference  from  state  or 
etiquette?" 

"Assuredly.     As  chatelaine  of  Trianon,  you  alone  will  regulate 
its  customs,  and  all  who  visit  you,  must  submit  to  your  rules. " 
"And  no  man  can  enter  my  chateau  without  an  invitation?" 
"Not  even  the  king  himself." 

Marie  Antoinette  smiled  until  the  pearls  encased  within  her  coral 
lips  dazzled  the  royal  vision. 

"How  delightful !"  said  she.     "I  do  not  think  that  the  Count  de 
Provence  will  ever  be  invited  to  Trianon. " 
"Nor  I,"  replied  Louis. 

"But  the  king  will  be  asked  so  often,  that  he  will  certainly  wish 
he  were  the  Count  de  Provence.     Still,  he  must  promise  not  to  come 
until  he  receives  his  invitation. " 
"I  promise,  beautiful  chatelaine." 
"And  then  to  come  whenever  I  invite  him." 
"  That  I  can  promise  more  safely  than  the  other. " 
"  Upon  your  royal  word  ?" 

"  Upon  my  royal  word.  And  thus  I  seal  it  with  a  kiss  upon  your 
fair  hand. " 

"Upon  my  hand  only,  sire?"  asked  she,  while  she  turned  a  cheek, 
whose  hue  was  like  the  rosy  lining  of  a  sea-shell. 

Louis  accepted  the  challenge,  and  pressed  a  kiss  so  passionate 
upon  that  cheek,  that  it  flushed  to  a  deep,  burning  crimson,  and  the 
queen's  eyes  were  cast  down,  till  nothing  of  them  was  visible  except 
her  long,  dark  lashes. 

The  royal  lover,  too,  grew  very  red,  and  stammered  a  few  inau- 
dible words.  Then,  bowing,  awkwardly,  he  stumbled  over  an  arm- 
chair, and  retreated  in  dire  confusion. 

Marie  Antoinette  looked  after  her  clumsy  king  with  a  beating 
heart. 

"Ami,  indeed,  to  be  blessed  with  his  love?"  thought  the  poor, 
young  thing.  "  If  I  am,  I  shall  be  the  happiest  and  most  enviable  of 
women. " 


410  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    CIII. 

THE  LAST    APPEAL. 

The  carriage  of  the  Countess  Esterhazy  was  returning  from  a  ball 
which  the  empress  had  given  in  honor  of  her  son's  departure  from 
Vienna.  Joseph  was  about  to  visit  France,  and  his  lovely  young 
sister  was  once  more  to  hear  the  sound  of  a  beloved  voice  from 
home. 

It  was  long  past  midnight ;  but  the  Hotel  Esterhazy  was  one 
blaze  of  light.  It  had  been  one  of  the  countess's  first  orders  to  her 
steward  that,  at  dusk,  every  chandelier  in  her  palace  should  be 
lighted.  She  hated  night  and  darkness,  slie  said,  and  must  have 
hundreds  of  wax-lights  burning  from  twilight  until  morning.  This 
was  one  of  the  whims  of  the  fair  Margaret,  which,  although  it 
amused  all  Vienna,  was  any  thing  but  comic  to  her  husband,  for  it 
cost  liim  one  thousand  florins  a  month. 

The  hotel,  then,  from  ground-floor  to  attic,  was  bright  as  noon- 
day. Six  lackevs,  in  silvered  livery,  stood  on  either  side  of  the 
entrance,  with  torches  in  their  hands,  to  light  their  lady  to  the 
vestibule.  From  the  inner  door  to  the  staircase  a  rich  Turkey  car- 
pet covered  the  floor ;  and,  here  again,  stood  twelve  more  lackeys, 
performing  the  office  of  candelabra  to  the  light-loving  countess. 
At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  stood  the  steward  and  the  butler  of  the 
household,  awaiting  such  orders  as  she  might  choose  to  fling  at  them 
on  her  way  ;  and  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  waiting  to  receive  her, 
gtood  a  bevy  of  dames  de  compagnie,  and  other  female  attendants. 

The  countess  passed  through  this  living  throng  without  vouch- 
safing one  glance  in  acknowledgment  of  their  respectful  greetings. 
In  profound  silence  she  swept  up  the  stairway  ;  her  long,  glossy 
train  of  white  satin  following  her  as  she  went,  like  the  foaming 
track  that  a  ship  leaves  upon  the  broad  bosom  of  the  ocean,  and  the 
diamonds  that  decked  her  brow,  neck,  and  arms,  flinging  showers 
of  radiance  that  dazzled  tlie  eye  like  lightning  when  the  storm  is  at 
its  height.  Her  head  was  thrown  back,  her  large  black  eyes  were 
starry  as  ever,  and  her  face  was  so  pale  that  its  pallor  was  un- 
earthly. 

At  the  landing-place  she  turned,  and  speaking  to  the  steward, 

said  : 

"  Let  Count  Esterhazy  know  that  in  ten  minutes  I  await  him  in 
the  blue-room. "  Having  said  thus  much,  she  continued  her  way, 
and  disappeared  from  the  eyes  of  her  staring  household. 

Her  disappearance  was  the  signal  for  the  transformation  of  the 
candelabra  into  men. 

"Did  you  hear  her?"  whispered  one.      "She  has  sent  for   the 

count. " 

"Never  troubling  herself  whether  he  sleeps  or  wakes,"  said 
another.     "  Poor  man  !     He  has  been  in  bed  for  four  hours. " 

"  No  wonder  he  goes  to  bed  early, "  remarked  a  third.  "  It  is  the 
only  place  on  eartli  wliere  lie  lias  peace. " 

"  Nevertheless  he  will  be  obedient  and  come  ;  he  dare  not  refiise. " 

"Oh,  no  !"  was  the  general  response.  "  In  ten  minutes  he  will  be 
here  ;  or  his  amiable  countess  will  treat  us  to  a  scene  like  some  we 
have  witnessed,  wherein  she  flings  handf  uls  of  gold  out  of  the  win- 


THE  LAST  APPEAL.  411 

dows,  and  gathers  all  the  people  in  Vienna  before  the  hotel  to  see 
the  show. " 

The  servants  were  right ;  Count  Esterhazy  did  not  disobey  his 
wife.  He  trembled  when  he  received  her  message,  called  nervously 
for  his  valet  to  dress  him,  and  at  the  end  of  the  ten  minutes  was  on 
his  way  to  the  blue-room. 

The  countess  was  there  before  him,  looking  like  an  angry  queen 
about  to  condemn  a  recreant  vassal  to  death.  And  Esterhazy,  with 
the  mien  and  gait  of  a  culprit,  came  into  her  presence  with  a  bow 
that  was  almost  a  genuflection. 

"You  see,  countess,"  said  he,  "with what  haste  I  obey  your  com- 
mands.    I  feel  so  honored  at  the  call,  that — " 

He  paused — for  really  her  fiery  eyes  seemed  to  burn  him  ;  and 
her  contempt  dried  up  the  stream  of  his  commonplace  flattery,  as 
the  breath  of  the  sirocco  parches  up  the  dew-drops. 

"Why  do  you  not  go  onV"  said  she. 

"I  am  bewildered  by  my  own  joy,"  replied  he,  blandly.  "Re- 
member— it  is  the  first  time  since  our  marriage  that  you  have 
allowed  me  the  privilege  of  an  interview  in  private ;  and  I  may 
well  lose  my  speech  in  the  intoxication  of  such  a  moment." 

"  It  is  the  first  time.  You  have  a  good  memory.  Can  you  also 
recollect  how  long  it  is  since  we  had  tliat  interview?" 

"  Can  I  recollect?     Four  long  years  I" 

" Four  long  years, "  sighed  she,  "to  the  day,  and  almost  to  the 
hour. " 

"  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  the  count.  "And  can  you  forgive  me  for 
having  forgotten  tliis  charming  an n i versa lyV" 

"  You  are  happy  to  have  tasted  of  the  Lethe  of  indifference.  I — I 
have  counted  the  days  and  the  hours  of  my  slavery  ;  and  each  day  and 
hour  is  branded  upon  my  heart.  Have  you  forgotten,  too,  Count 
Esterhazy,  what  I  swore  to  you  on  that  wedding-night?" 

"  Yes,  Margaret^I  have  forgotten  all  the  cruel  words  you  spoke 
to  me  in  an  outburst  of  just  indignation." 

"  I  wonder  that  you  should  have  forgotten  them,  for  it  has  been 
my  daily  care  to  remind  you  of  the  vow  I  then  made.  Have  I  not 
kept  my  word?  Have  I  not  crossed  your  path  with  the  burning 
ploughshares  of  my  hatred  ?  Have  I  not  cursed  yotir  home,  wasted 
your  wealth,  and  made  you  the  laughing-stock  of  all  Vienna?" 

"You  judge  yourself  with  too  much  severity,  Margaret,"  said  the 
count,  mildly.  "True — we  have  not  been  very  happy  ;  since  this  is 
the  first  time  since  our  marriage-night,  that  we  are  face  to  face 
without  witnesses.  I  will  not  deny,  either,  that  our  household  ex- 
penditures have  cost  several  millions,  and  have  greatly  exceeded 
our  income.  But  the  lovely  Countess  Esterhazy  has  a  right  to  exceed 
all  other  women  in  the  splendor  of  her  concerts  and  balls,  and  the 
richness  of  her  dress.  Come,  make  me  amends  for  the  past — I  for- 
give you.     There  is  still  time  to — " 

"No!"  exclaimed  she,  "the  time  went  by  four  years  ago.  You 
can  never  make  amends  to  me,  nor  I  to  you.  Look  at  yourself ! 
You  were  then  a  young  man,  with  high  hopes  and  a  light  heart. 
Many  a  woman  would  have  been  proud  to  be  called  your  wife — and 
yet  you  chose  me.  Now,  that  four  years  of  accvirsed  w^edded  life 
have  gone  over  your  head,  you  have  passed  from  youth  to  old  age, 
without  ever  having  known  an  interval  of  manhood.  And  I — O 
God  !     What  have  I  become  through  your  miserable  cowardice  1     I 


413  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

might  have  grown  to  be  a  gentle  woman,  had  fate  united  me  to  him 
whom  I  love ;  but  the  link  that  has  bound  me  to  you  has  unsexed 
me.  Our  marriage  was  a  crime,  and  we  have  paid  its  penalty  ;  you 
are  as  weak  as  a  woman,  and  / — as  inflexible  as  a  man. " 

Two  large  tears  glittered  in  her  eyes,  and  fell  slowly  down  her 
pale  cheeks.  Count  Esterhazy  approached  and  caressed  her  with  his 
hands.  She  shuddered  at  his  touch,  recoiling  as  if  from  contact 
with  a  reptile.  Meanwhile,  he  was  imploring  her  to  begin  a  new  life 
with  him — to  give  him  her  hand,  to  make  him  the  happiest  of  men. 

"  No,  no,  no  !"  cried  she.  "  In  mercy  cease,  or  you  will  drive  me 
mad.  But  I  will  forgive  you  even  your  jjast  treachery,  if  you  will 
grant  the  request  I  am  about  to  make." 

"  You  will  condescend  to  ask  something  of  me  !  Speak,  Margaret 
speak  !     What  can  I  do  to  make  you  happy?" 

"  You  can  give  me  my  freedom, "  replied  the  countess,  in  a  soft, 
imploring  voice.  "  Go  with  me  to  the  empress,  and  beg  her  to  imdo 
what  she  has  done.  Tell  her  that  she  has  blasted  the  lives  of  two 
human  beings — tell  her  that  we  are  two  galley-slaves,  pining  for 
liberty." 

Count  Esterhazy  shook  his  head.  "  The  empress  will  never  allow 
us  to  be  divorced, "  said  he,  "  for  I  have  too  often  assured  her  that  I 
was  happy  beyond  expression,  and  she  would  not  believe  me  if  I 
came  with  another  story. " 

"Then  let  us  go  to  the  fountain-head,"  said  the  countess,  wring- 
ing her  hands.  "Let  VIS  go  to  the  pope,  and  implore  him  to  loose 
the  bands  of  our  mutual  miserj'. " 

"Impossible!  That  would  be  a  slight  which  the  empress  never 
would  forgive.     I  should  fall  under  her  displeasure. " 

"Oh,  these  servile  hearts  that  have  no  life  but  that  which  they 
borrow  from  the  favor  of  princes !"  cried  Margaret,  scornfully. 
"  What  has  the  favor  of  the  empress  been  worth  to  you?  For  what 
have  you  to  thank  her?  For  these  four  years  of  martyrdom,  Avhich 
you  have  spent  with  a  woman  who  despises  5'ou?" 

"I  cannot  dispense  with  the  good-will  of  my  sovereign,"  said  the 
count,  with  something  like  fervor.  "For  hundreds  of  years,  the 
Esterhazys  have  been  the  favorites  of  the  Emjjerors  of  Austria  ;  and 
we  cannot  afford  to  lose  the  station  we  enjoy  therefrom.  No — I 
will  do  nothing  to  irritate  the  empress.  She  chose  you  for  ray  wife, 
and,  therefore,  I  wear  my  chains  patiently.  Maria  Theresa  knows 
how  I  have  obeyed  and  honored  her  commands  ;  and,  one  of  these 
days,  I  shall  reap  the  reward  of  my  loyalty.  If  Count  Palfy  dies,  I 
am  to  be  marshal  of  the  imperial  household  ;  but  yet  higher  honors 
await  us  both.  If  I  continue  to  deserve  the  favor  of  the  empress, 
she  will  confer  upon  me  the  title  of  'prince. '  You  refuse  to  be  my 
wife,  Margaret ;  but  you  will  one  day  be  proud  to  let  me  deck  that 
haughty  brow  witli  the  coronet  of  a  princess. " 

Mai'garet  looked  more  contemptuously  at  him  than  before. 

"  You  are  even  more  degraded  than  I  had  su])i)Osed, "  said  she. 
"Poor,  crawling  reptile,  I  do  not  even  pity  you.  I  ask  you,  for  the 
last  time,  will  you  go  with  me  to  Rome  to  obtain  a  divorce?" 

"  Why  do  you  repeat  your  unreasonalile  request,  Margaret?  It  is 
vain  for  you  to  hope  for  a  divorce.  Waste  my  fortune  if  you  will 
— I  canot  hinder  you — I  will  find  means  to  repair  my  losses  ;  and  tlie 
empress,  licrself,  will  come  to  my  assistance,  for — " 

"Ekiough!"  interrupted  the  countess.     "Since  \o\i  will  not  aid 


THE  FLIGHT.  413 

me  in  procuring  our  divorce,  it  shall  be  forced  upon  jou.  I  will 
draw  across  your  escutcheon  such  a  bar  sinister  as  your  princely 
coronet  will  not  be  large  enough  to  hide.  That  is  my  last  warning 
to  you.     Now  leave  me." 

"Margaret,  I  imploi-e  you  to  forgive  me  if  I  cannot  make  this 
great  sacrifice.  I  cannot  part  from  you,  indeed  I  cannot, "  began 
the  covmt. 

"And  the  empress  will  reward  your  constancy  with  the  title  of 
'prince,'"  replied  Margaret,  with  withering  scorn.  "Go— you  are 
not  worthy  of  my  anger — but  I  shall  know  where  to  strike.  Away 
with  you  !" 

Count  Esterhazy,  with  a  deep  sigh,  turned  and  left  the  room. 

"The  last  hope  to  which  I  clung,  has  vanished  !"  said  she,  "and 
I  must  resort  to  disgrace  !" 

She  bent  her  head,  and  a  shower  of  tears  came  to  her  relief.  But 
they  did  not  soften  her  heart.  She  rose  from  her  seat,  nmttering, 
"  It  is  too  late  to  weep  !  I  have  no  alternative.  The  hour  for  revenge 
has  struck !"  

CHAPTER    CIV. 

THE  FLIGHT. 

The  countess  passed  into  her  dressing-room.  She  closed  and 
locked  the  door,  then,  going  across  the  room,  she  stopped  before  a 
large  picture  that  hung  opposite  to  her  rich  Venetian  toilet-mirror. 
The  frame  of  this  picture  was  ornamented  with  small  gilt  rosettes. 
Margaret  laid  her  hand  upon  one  of  these  rosettes,  and  drew  it 
toward  her.  A  noise  of  machinery  was  heard  behind  the  wall.  She 
drew  down  the  rosette  a  second  time,  and  then  stepped  back.  The 
whirr  was  heard  again,  the  picture  began  to  move,  and  behind  it 
appeared  a  secret  door.  Margaret  opened  it,  and,  as  she  did  so,  her 
whole  frame  shook  as  if  with  a  deadly  repugnance  to  that  which  was 
within. 

"I  am  here.  Count  Schulenberg, "  said  she,  coldly. 

The  figure  of  a  young  man  appeared  at  the  doorway. 

"May  I  presume  to  enter  paradise?"  said  he,  stepping  into  the 
room  with  a  flippant  air. 

"You  may, "  replied  she,  without  moving  ;  but  the  hue  of  shame 
overspread  her  face,  neck,  and  arms,  and  it  was  plain  to  Count 
Schulenberg  that  she  trembled  violently. 

These  were  to  him  the  signals  of  his  triumph  ;  and  he  smiled  with 
satisfaction  as  he  surveyed  this  lovely  woman,  so  long  acknowledged 
to  be  the  beauty  par  excellence  of  the  imperial  court  at  Vienna. 
Margaret  allowed  him  to  take  her  hand,  and  stood  coldly  passive, 
while  he  covered  it  with  kisses ;  but  when  he  would  have  gone 
further,  and  put  his  arm  around  her  waist,  she  raised  her  hands, 
and  receded. 

"Not  here,"  murmured  she,  hoarsely.  "Not  here,  in  the  house 
of  the  man  whose  name  I  bear.  Let  us  not  desecrate  love  ;  enough 
that  we  defile  marriage. " 

"Come,  then,  beloved,  come, "  said  he,  imploringly.  "The  coach 
is  at  the  door,  and  I  have  passes  for  France,  Italy,  Spain,  and  Eng- 
land. Choose  yourseK  the  spot  wherein  we  shall  bury  our  love  from 
the  world's  gaze." 


414  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  We  go  to  Paris, "  replied  she,  turning  away  her  head. 

"To  Paris,  dearest?  Why,  you  have  forgotten  that  the  emperor 
leaves  for  Paris  to-morrow,  and  that  we  incur  the  risk  of  recognition 
there." 

"  Not  at  all— Paris  is  a  large  city,  and  if  we  are  discovered,  I  shall 
seek  protection  from  the  emperor.  He  knows  of  my  unhappy  mar- 
riage, and  sympathizes  with  my  sorrows. " 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  dearest.  Then  in  Paris  we  spend  our 
honey-moon,  and  there  enjoy  the  bliss  of  reqviited  love." 

"  There,  and  not  until  we  reach  there, "  said  she,  gravely.  "  I  re- 
quire a  last  i_)roof  of  your  devotion,  count.  I  exact  that  until  we 
arrive  in  Paris  you  shall  not  speak  to  me  of  love.  You  shall  consider 
me  as  a  sister,  and  allow  me  the  privilege  of  travelling  in  the  car- 
riage with  my  maid — she  and  I  on  one  seat,  you  opposite. " 

"  Margaret,  that  is  abominable  tyranny.  You  expect  me  to  be 
near  you,  and  not  to  speak  of  love !  I  must  be  watched  by  your 
maid,  and  sit  opposite  to  you  ! — You  surely  cannot  mean  what  you 
say. " 

"  I  do,  indeed,  Count  Schulenberg. " 

"  But  think  of  all  tliat  I  have  endured  for  a  year  that  I  have  adored 
you,  cold  beauty  !  Not  one  single  proof  of  love  have  you  ever  given 
me  yet.     You  have  tolerated  mine,  but  have  never  returned  it. " 

"Did  I  not  write  to  you?" 

"  Write  ;  yes.  You  wrote  me  to  say  that  you  would  not  consent 
to  be  mine  unless  I  carried  you  away  from  Vienna.  Then  you  went 
on  to  order  our  mode  of  travelling  as  you  would  have  done  had  I  been 
your  husband.  '  Be  here  at  such  an  hour  ;  have  your  passes  for  vari- 
ous countries.  Describe  me  therein  as  your  sister.  Come  through 
the  garden  and  await  me  at  the  head  of  the  secret  stairway. '  Is 
this  a  love-letter?  It  is  a  mere  note  of  instructions.  For  one  week 
I  have  waited  for  a  look,  a  sigh,  a  pressure  of  the  hand  ;  and  when 
I  come  hither  to  take  you  from  your  home  forever,  you  receive  me 
as  if  I  were  a  courier.  No,  Margaret,  no— I  will  not  wait  to  speak 
my  love  until  we  are  in  Paris. " 

"  Then,  Count  Schulenberg,  farewell.  We  have  nothing  more  to 
say  to  one  another. " 

Slie  turned  to  leave  the  room,  but  Schulenberg  darted  forward 
and  fell  at  her  feet.  "Margaret,  beloved,"  cried  he,  "give  me  one 
single  word  of  comfort.     I  thirst  to  know  that  you  love  me." 

"  Can  a  woman  go  further  than  I  am  going  at  this  moment?"  asked 
IMargaret,  with  a  strange,  hollow  laugh. 

"  No.  I  acknowledge  my  unspeakable  happiness  in  being  the  part- 
ner of  your  flight.  But  I  cannot  comprehend  your  love.  It  is  a  bit- 
ter draught  in  a  golden  beaker. " 

"  Then  do  not  drink  it, "  said  she,  retreating. 

"  I  must — I  must  drink  it ;  for  my  soul  thirsts  for  the  cup, 
and  I  will  accept  its  contents." 

"My  conditions?" 

"  Yes,  since  I  must, "  said  Schulenberg,  heaving  a  sigh.  "  I  prom- 
ise, then,  to  contain  my  ecstasy  until  we  reach  Paris,  and  to  allow 
that  guardian  of  virtue,  your  maid,  to  sit  by  your  side,  while  I  suffer 
agony  opposite.     But  oh  !  when  we  reach  Paris — " 

"In  Paris  we  will  talk  further,  and  my  speech  shall  be  different." 

"Thank  you,  beloved,  "  cried  the  count  passionately.  "This  heav- 
enly promise  will  sustain  lue  through  my  ordeal. "     He  kissed  the 


JOSEPH  IN  FRANCE.  415 

tips  of  her  fingers,  and  she  retired  to  change  her  ball-dress  for  a 
travelling  habit. 

When  she  had  closed  the  door,  the  expression  of  Count  Schulen- 
berg's  face  was  not  quite  the  same. 

"The  fierce  countess  is  about  to  be  tamed,"  thought  he.  "I  shall 
win  my  bet,  and  humble  this  insolent  beauty.  Let  her  rule  if  slie 
must,  until  we  reach  Paris ;  but  there  I  will  repay  her,  and  her 
chains  shall  not  be  light.  Really,  this  is  a  piquant  adventure.  I 
am  making  a  delightful  wedding-tour,  without  the  bore  of  the  mar- 
riage-ceremony, at  the  expense  of  the  most  beautiful  woman,  in 
Europe  ;  and  to  heighten  the  piquancy  of  the  affair,  I  am  to  receive 
two  thousand  louis  d'ors  on  my  return  to  Vienna.     Here  she  comes. " 

"I  am  ready,"  said  Margaret,  coming  in,  followed  by  her  maid, 
who  held  her  mistress's  travelling-bag. 

Count  Schulenberg  darted  forward  to  offer  his  arm,  but  she  waved 
him  away. 

"  Follow  me, "  said  she,  passing  at  once  through  the  secret  open- 
ing. Schulenberg  followed,  "sighing  like  a  furnace,  "and  looking 
daggers  at  the  confidante,  who  in  her  turn  looked  sneeringly  at  him. 
A  few  moments  after  they  entered  the  carriage.  The  windows  of 
the  Hotel  Esterliazy  were  as  brilliantly  illuminated  as  ever,  wliile 
the  master  of  the  house  slumbered  peacefully.  And  yet  a  shadow 
had  fallen  upon  the  proud  escutcheon  which  surmounted  the  silken 
curtains  of  his  luxurious  bed — the  shadow  of  that  disgrace  with 
which  his  outraged  wife  had  threatened  him  ! 


CHAPTER    CV. 

JOSEPH     IN     FRANCE. 

A  LONG  train  of  travelling  carriages  was  about  to  cross  the  bridge 
which  spans  the  Rhine  at  Strasburg,  and  separates  Germany  from 
France.  It  was  the  suite  of  the  Count  of  Falkenstein,  who  was  on 
his  way  to  visit  his  royal  sister. 

Thirty  persons,  exclusive  of  Count  Rosenberg  and  two  other  con- 
fidential friends,  accompanied  the  emperor.  Of  course,  tlie  incognito 
of  a  Count  of  Falkenstein,  who  travelled  with  such  a  suite,  was  not 
of  much  value  to  him  ;  so  that  he  had  endured  all  the  tedium  of  an 
official  journey.  This  was  all  very  proper  in  the  eyes  of  Maria 
Theresa,  who  thought  it  impossible  for  Jove  to  travel  without  his 
thvmder.  But  Jove  himself,  as  everybody  knows,  was  much  ad- 
dicted to  incognitos,  and  so  was  his  terrene  representative,  the  Em- 
peror of  Austria. 

The  imperial  cortege,  then,  was  just  about  to  pass  from  Germany 
to  France.  It  was  evening,  and  the  fiery  gold  of  the  setting  sun  was 
mirrored  in  the  waves  of  the  Rhine  which  with  gentle  murmur  were 
toying  with  the  greensward  that  sloped  gracefully  down  to  the 
water's  edge.  The  emperor  gave  the  word  to  halt,  and  rising  from 
his  seat,  looked  back  upon  the  long  line  of  carriages  that  followed 
in  his  wake. 

"Rosenberg,"  said  he,  laying  his  hand  upon  the  count's  shoulder, 
"tell  me  frankly  how  do  you  enjoy  this  way  of  travelling?" 

"  Ah,  sire,  I  have  been  thinking  all  day  of  the  delights  of  our  other 
journeys.     Do  you  remember  our  hunt  for  dinner  in  the  dirty  little 


416  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

hamlet,  aud  the  nights  we  spent  on  horseback  in  Galicia?    There 
was  no  monotony  in  travelling  then  !" 

"Thank  you,  thank  you, "  said  the  emperor,  with  a  bright  smile. 
"I  see  that  we  are  of  one  mind." 

He  motioned  to  the  occupants  of  the  carriage  immediately  behind 
liim,  and  they  hastened  to  obey  the  signal. 

The  emperor,  after  thanking  them  for  the  manner  in  which  they 
had  acquitted  themselves  of  their  respective  duties,  proposed  a 
change  in  their  plans  of  travel. 

"Then,"  replied  Herr  von  Bourgeois,  with  a  sigh,  "your  majesty 
has  no  further  use  for  us,  and  we  return  to  Vienna. " 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all, "  said  tlie  emperor,  who  had  heard  aud 
understood  the  sigli  wafted  toward  Paris  and  its  thousand  attrac- 
tions. "We  will  only  part  company  that  we  maj' travel  more  at 
our  ease,  and  once  in  Paris,  we  again  join  forces.  Be  so  good  as  to 
make  your  arrangements  accordingh',  and  to  make  my  adieux  to  the 
other  gentlemen  of  our  suite. " 

Not  long  after,  the  imperial  cortege  separated  into  three  columns, 
each  one  of  which  was  to  go  independent  of  the  other,  and  all  to 
unite  when  they  had  reached  Paris.  As  the  last  of  the  carriages 
with  which  he  had  parted,  disappeared  on  the  other  side  of  the 
bridge  the  emperor  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked  radiant  with 
satisfaction. 

"  Let  us  wait, "  said  he,  "  until  the  dust  of  my  imperial  magnifi- 
cence is  laid,  before  we  cross  the  bridge  to  seek  lodgings  for  the 
night.  Meanwhile,  Rosenberg,  give  me  your  arm  and  let  us  walk 
along  the  banks  of  the  Rhine. " 

They  crossed  the  high-road  and  took  a  foot-path  that  led  to  the 
banks  of  the  river.  At  that  evening  hour  every  thing  was  peaceful 
and  quiet.  Now  and  then  a  peasant  came  slowly  following  his  hay- 
laden  wagon,  and  occasionallj'  some  village-girl  carolled  a  love-lay, 
or  softly  murmured  a  vesper  hymn. 

The  emperor,  who  had  been  walking  fast,  suddenly  stopped,  and 
gazed  with  rapture  upon  the  scene. 

"  See,  Rosenberg, "  said  he,  "  see  how  beautiful  Germany  is  to-day  ! 
As  beautiful  as  a  laughing  youth  upon  whose  brow  is  stamped  the 
future  liero. " 

"  Your  majesty  will  transform  the  boy  into  a  hero, "  said  Rosenberg. 

The  emperor  frowned.  "  Let  us  forget  for  a  moment  the  mummery 
of  royalty,"  said  he.  "You  know,  moreover,  that  royalty  has 
brought  me  nothing  but  misery.  Instead  of  reigning  over  others,  I 
ain  continually  passing  under  the  Caudine  Forks  of  another's  des- 
potic will. " 

"  But  the  day  will  come  when  the  emperor  shall  reign  alone,  aud 
tlien  the  sun  of  greatness  will  rise  for  Germany." 

"  Heaven  grant  it !  I  have  the  will  to  make  of  Germany  one 
powerful  empire.  Oil,  that  I  had  the  power,  too  !  My  friend,  we 
are  alone,  and  no  one  hears  except  God.  Here  on  the  confines  of 
Germany,  the  poor  unhappy  emperor  may  be  permitted  to  shed  a 
tear  over  the  severed  garment  of  German  royalty — that  garment 
which  has  been  rent  by  so  many  little  princes  !  Have  you  observed, 
Rosenberg,  how  they  have  soiled  its  majestj'?  Have  you  noticed  the 
pretensions  of  these  manikins  whose  domains  we  can  span  with  our 
hands?  Is  it  not  i)itiable  that  each  one  in  his  principality  is  equal 
in  power  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria  !" 


JOSEPH  IN  FRANCE.  417 

"Yes,  indeed, "  said  Rosenberg  with  a  sigh,  "Germany  swarms 
with  little  i^rinces  !" 

"  Too  many  little  princes, "  echoed  Joseph,  "  and  therefore  their 
lord  and  emperor  is  curtailed  by  so  much  of  his  own  lawful  rights, 
and  Germany  is  an  empty  name  among  nations  !  If  the  Germans 
were  capable  of  an  enlightened  patriotism  ;  if  they  would  throw 
away  their  Anglomania,  Gallomania,  Prussomania,  and  Austro- 
mania,  they  would  be  something  more  than  the  feeble  echoes  of  in- 
triguers and  pedants.*  Each  one  thrusts  his  own  little  ijrovince 
forward,  while  all  forget  the  one  great  fatherland  !" 

"But  the  Emperor  Joseph  will  be  lord  of  all  Germany, "  cried 
Rosenberg,  exultingly,  "and  he  will  remind  them  that  they  are  vas- 
sals and  he  is  their  suzerain  !" 

"They  must  have  a  bloody  lesson  to  remind  them  of  that,"  said 
the  emperor,  moodily.  "Look  behind  you,  Rosenberg,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Rhine.  There  lies  a  kingdom  neither  larger  nor  more 
populous  than  Germany  ;  a  kingdom  which  rules  us  by  its  industry 
and  caprices,  and  is  great  by  reason  of  its  unity,  because  its  mill- 
ions of  naen  are  under  the  sway  of  one  monarch. " 

"And  yet  it  was  once  w^ith  France  as  it  is  to-day  with  Germany, " 
said  Count  Rosenberg.  "There  were  Normandy,  Brittany,  Pro- 
vence, Languedoc,  Burgundy,  and  Franche-Comte,  all  petty  duke- 
doms striving  against  their  allegiance  to  the  king.  Where  are  their 
rulers  now?  Buried  and  forgotten,  while  their  provinces  own  the 
sway  of  the  one  monarch  who  rules  all  France.  What  France  has 
accomplished,  German3%  too,  can  compass. " 

The  emperor  placed  his  hand  affectionately  upon  Rosenberg's 
shoulder.  "Yovi  have  read  my  heart,  friend,  "said  he,  smiling. 
"Do  you  know  what  wild  wishes  are  surging  within  me  now? 
wishes  which  Frederick  of  Prussia  would  condemn  as  unlawful, 
although  it  was  quite  righteous  for  him  to  rob  Austria  of  Silesia. 
I,  too,  have  my  Silesia,  and,  by  the  Lord  above  me  !  my  title-deeds 
are  not  as  mouldy  as  his  !" 

"Only  that  your  Silesia  is  called  Bavaria,"  said  Rosenberg,  with 
a  significant  smile. 

"For  God's  sake,"  cried  Joseph,  "do  not  let  the  rushes  hear  you, 
lest  they  betray  me  to  the  babbling  wind,  and  the  wind  bear  it  to 
the  King  of  Prussia.  But  you  have  guessed.  Bavaria  is  a  por^fOJi 
of  my  Silesia,  but  only  a  portion.  Bavaria  is  mine  by  right  of  in- 
heritance, and  I  shall  take  it  when  the  time  comes.  It  will  be  a 
comely  patch  to  stop  some  of  the  rents  in  my  imperial  mantle.  But 
my  Silesia  lies  at  every  point  of  the  compass.  To  the  east  lie  Bosnia 
and  Servia — to  the  south,  see  superannuated  Venice.  The  lion  of  St. 
Mark  is  old  and  blind,  and  will  fall  an  easy  prey  to  the  eagle  of 
Hapsburg.  This  will  extend  our  dominions  to  the  Adriatic  sea. 
When  the  Duke  of  Modena  is  gathered  to  his  fathers,  my  brother,  in 
right  of  his  wife,  succeeds  to  the  title  ;  andasFerrara  once  belonged 
to  the  house  of  Modena,  he  and  I  together  can  easily  wrest  it  from 
the  pope.  Close  by  are  the  Tortonese  and  Alessandria,  two  fair 
provinces  which  the  King  of  Sardinia  supposes  to  be  his.  Tliey  once 
formed  a  portion  of  the  duchy  of  Milan  ;  and  Milan  is  ours,  with 
every  acre  of  land  that  ever  belonged  to  it.  By  Heaven,  I  will  liave 
all  that  is  mine,  if  it  cost  me  a  seven  years'  war  to  win  it  back  ! 
This  is  not  all.  Look  toward  the  west,  beyond  the  spires  of  Stras- 
*  The  emperor's  own  words.    See  "Joseph  II.,  Correspondence, "  p.  175, 


418  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

burg,  where  the  green  and  fertile  plains  of  Alsatia  woo  our  coming. 
They  now  belong  to  France,  but  they  shall  be  the  property  of  Aus- 
tria. Farther  on  lies  Lorraine.  That,  too,  is  mine,  for  my  father's 
title  was  '  Duke  of  Lorraine. '  What  is  it  to  me  that  Francis  the 
First  sold  his  birthright  to  France?  All  that  I  covet  I  shall  annex 
to  Austria,  as  surely  as  Frederick  wrested  Silesia  from  me. " 

"And  do  you  intend  to  let  him  keep  jjossession  of  Silesia?"  asked 
Rosenberg. 

"  Not  if  I  can  prevent  it,  but  that  may  not  be  optional  with  me.  I 
will — but  liush  !  Let  us  speak  no  more  of  the  future  ;  my  soul  faints 
with  thirst  when  I  think  of  it.  Sometimes  I  think  I  see  Germany 
pointing  to  her  many  wounds,  and  calling  me  to  come  and  heal  her 
lacerated  body.  And  yet  I  can  do  nothing !  I  must  stand  with 
folded  arms,  nor  wish  that  I  were  lord  of  Austria  ;  for  God  knows 
that  I  do  not  long  for  Maria  Theresa's  death.  May  siie  reign  for 
many  years  ;  but  oh  !  may  I  live  to  see  the  day  wherein  I  shall  be  sole 
monarch  not  only  of  Austria,  but  of  all  Germany.  If  it  ever  dawns 
for  me,  the  provinces  shall  no  longer  speak  each  one  its  own  lan- 
guage. Italians,  Hungarians,  and  Austrians,  all  sliall  be  German, 
and  we  shall  have  one  people  and  one  tongue.  To  insure  the  pros- 
])erity  of  my  empire,  I  will  strengthen  my  alliance  with  France.  I 
dislike  the  French,  but  I  must  secure  their  neutrality  before  I  step 
into  possession  of  Bavaria,  and  assert  my  claims  to  my  many-sided 
Silesia.  Well — these  are  dreams  ;  day  has  not  yet  dawned  for  me  ! 
The  future  Emperor  of  Germany  is  yet  a  vassal,  and  he  who  goes  to 
France  to-day  is  nothing  but  a  Count  of  Falkenstein.  Come,  let  us 
cross  the  bridge  that  at  once  unites  France  with  Germany,  and 
divides  them  one  from  the  other. "  * 


CHAPTER    CVI. 

THE  GODFATHER. 

There  was  great  commotion  at  the  post-house  of  the  little  town 
of  Vitry.  Two  maids,  in  their  Sunday  best,  were  transforming  the 
public  parlor  of  the  inn  into  a  festive  dining-room  ;  wreathing  the 
walls  with  garlands,  decking  the  long  dining-table  with  flowers,  and 
converting  the  huge  dresser  into  a  buffet  whereon  they  deposited  the 
pretty  gilt  china,  the  large  cakes,  the  pastries,  jellies,  and  confec- 
tions, that  were  designed  for  the  entertainment  of  thirty  invited 
guests.  The  landlord  and  postmaster,  a  slender  little  man  with  an 
excellent,  good-humored  face,  was  hurrying  from  huff'et  to  table, 
from  table  to  kitchen,  superintending  the  servants.  The  cook  was 
deep  in  the  preparation  of  her  roasts  and  warm  dishes  ;  and  at  the 
kitchen  door  sat  a  little  maiden,  who,  with  important  mien,  was 
selecting  the  whitest  and  crispest  leaves  from  a  mountain  of  lettuce 
which  she  laid  into  a  large  gilt  salad-bowl  beside  her  ;  throwing  the 
others  to  a  delighted  pig,  wlio,  like  Lazarus,  stood  by  to  pick  up 
the  leavings  of  his  betters.  In  the  yard,  at  the  fountain,  stood  the 
man-of -all- work,  wlio,  as  hwiXi^r  pro  tern. ,  was  washing  plates  and 
glasses  ;  while  close  by,  on  tlie  Hags,  sat  the  clerk  of  the  post-oflice, 
polishing  and  uncorking  t\w  bottles  which  the  host  had  just  brought 
from  the  cellar  in  honor  of  his  friends. 

*  These  are  Joseph's  own  words.    See  "Letters  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  175. 


THE  GODFATHER.  419 

Monsieur  Etienue  surTeyed  his  notes  of  preparation,  and  gave  an 
approving  nod.  His  face  was  radiant  as  he  returned  to  the  house  ; 
gave  another  glance  of  satisfaction  around  the  dining-room,  and 
passed  into  an  adjoining  apartment.  This  was  the  best -furnished 
room  in  the  post-house  ;  and  on  a  soft  lounge,  near  the  window,  re- 
clined a  pale  young  woman,  beautifully  dre-ssed,  whose  vicinity  to  a 
cradle,  where  lay  a  very  young  infant,  betokened  her  recent  recovery 
from  confinement. 

"  Athanasia,  my  goddess,"  said  Monsieur  Etienne,  coming  in  on 
tiptoe,  "how  do  j^ou  feel  to-day?" 

Slie  reached  out  her  pale  hand  and  answered  in  a  languid  voice  : 
"The  doctor  says  that,  so  far,  I  am  doing  pretty  well,  and,  by  great 
precautions,  I  may  be  able,  in  a  few  weeks,  to  resume  my  household 
duties. " 

Monsieur  Etienne  raised  his  eyebrows,  and  looked  thoughtful. 
"The  doctor  is  over-anxious,  my  dear,  "said  he:  "he  exaggerates 
your  weakness.  Our  little  angel  there  is  already  three  weeks  old, 
and  will  be  standing  on  his  legs  before  long." 

"The  doctor  is  more  sympathizing  than  you,  Monsieur  Etienne," 
began  the  wife. 

"  My  treasure, "  interrupted  her  husband, "  no  one  can  wish  to  spare 
you  premature  exertion  more  than  I.  But  I  do  entreat  of  you,  my 
angel,  to  do  your  best  to  remain  with  the  company  to-day  as  long  as 
you  can. " 

"  I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to  oblige  you, "  said  Madame  Etienne, 
condescendingly  ,  "and  if  you  require  it,  I  will  sit  up  from  first  to 
last." 

"  It  will  be  a  great  festival  for  us,  provided  no  passengers  arrive 
to-day.  Good  Heaven  !  if  they  should  come,  what  could  I  do  with 
them?  Even  the  best  of  those  we  receive  here  are  scai-cely  fit  to 
introduce  among  our  respectable  guests ;  and  then,  as  for  post- 
horses,  I  want  every  one  of  them  for  the  company.  Heaven  defend 
us,  then,  from  passengers,  for— oh  !  oh  !  is  it  possible  !  Can  it  be  !" 
said  Etienne,  interrupting  himself .  "Yes,  it  is  the  sound  of  a  post- 
horn.  " 

"Perhaps  it  is  some  of  our  guests,"  suggested  Madame  Etienne. 

"No  no,  for  our  postilions  to-day  play  but  one  air,  '  Je  stds  jwre, 
tin  pere  heureux, '  "  said  Monsieur  Etienne,  listening  with  all  his 
might  to  the  approaching  horn. 

"  It  is  a  passenger, "  said  he,  despondingly,  "  Athanasia,  my  angel, 
we  are  lost !" 

So  saying,  Monsieur  Etienne  darted  out  of  the  room, as  if  he  were 
rushing  off  to  look  for  himself  ;  but  he  stopped  as  soon  as  he  had 
reached  his  front  door,  for  there  was  no  necessity  to  go  farther.  A 
dark  caleche,  with  three  horses,  dashed  up  to  the  door,  while  not  far 
behind  came  another  chaise,  whose  post-horn  was  sounding  "  Je  suis 
pere,  im  pere  heuretix." 

"  Is  it  possible?"  thought  the  discomfited  postmaster.  "  Yes,  here 
they  come  at  the  very  moment  when  the  guests  are  arriving. " 

Just  then  another  horn  was  heard,  and  "  Je  siiis  pere,  %in  pere 
lieureux, "  made  the  welkin  ring. 

On  every  side  they  came,  but  the  unlucky  passenger  oaiec/ie  blocked 
up  the  passage.  Monsieur  Etienne,  following  the  impulses  of  his 
heart,  rushed  past  the  strangers,  and  ran  to  greet  the  most  important 
of  his  guests,  the  village  curate  and  the  pastor  of  the  next  market- 


4^0  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

place.     But  just  then  the  bewildered  little  man  remembered  his  duty, 
and  darted  back  to  the  passengers. 

There  were  two  gentlemen  in  the  carriage,  and  on  the  box,  near 
the  postilion,  a  third  person,  who  had  the  air  of  a  valet. 

"The  gentlemen  wish  to  go  on  to  the  next  stage?"  said  Etienne, 
without  opening  the  door. 

"No,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  passengers,  raising  his  dai'k-blue  eyes  to 
the  post-house.  "  Your  house  looks  inviting,  and  we  would  like  a 
room  and  a  cosy  dinner." 

Monsieur  Etienne  scarcely  knew  what  reply  to  make  to  this  un- 
timely request.     "  You  wish  to  dine  here — here — you  would — " 

Down  came  another  post-chaise,  thundering  on  the  stones,  and 
louder  than  ever  was  the  sound  of  "  Je  snisjJere,  unpere  heurenx." 

Certainly,  at  that  moment,  the  song  was  a  mockery,  for  Monsieur 
Etienne  was  a  most  unhappy  and  distracted  father. 

"Gentlemen, "  said  he,  pathetically,  "oblige  nie  by  going  on  to  the 
next  town.     Indeed — " 

"Why,  will  you  not  give  us  dinner?"  asked  the  gentleman  who 
had  spoken  before.  "  I  see  a  number  of  people  passing  us  and  enter- 
ing the  house.     How  is  that?" 

"  Sir,  they  are — that  is — I  am, "  stammered  the  landlord  ;  then  sud- 
denly plunging  into  a  desperate  resolve,  he  said,  "  Are  you  a  father?" 

A  shade  passed  over  the  stranger's  face  as  he  replied,  "  I  liave  been 
a  father.     But  vvhy  such  a  question  ?" 

"Oh,  if  you  have  been  a  fatlier,"  answered  Etienne,  "yovi  will 
sympathize  with  me,  when  I  tell  you  that  to-day  we  christen  our 
first-born  child. " 

"Ah,  indeed!"  exclaimed  the  passenger,  with  a  kind  smile. 
"  Then  these  persons  are — " 

"  My  gviests, "  interrupted  the  landlord  and  postmaster,  "  and  you 
will  know  how  to  excuse  me  if—" 

"If  you  wish  us  to  the  devil, "  returned  the  blue-eyed  stranger, 
laughing  meiTily.  "But,  indeed,  I  cannot  oblige  you, my  excellent 
friend,  for  I  don't  know  where  his  infernal  majesty  is  to  be  found  ; 
and  if  I  may  be  allowed  a  preference,  I  would  rather  remain  in  the 
society  of  the  two  priests  whom  I  see  going  into  your  house. " 

"You  will  not  go  farther,  then — " 

"  Oh,  no,  we  ask  to  Ije  allowed  to  join  your  guests,  and  attend  the 
christening.  The  baptism  of  a  first-born  child  is  a  ceremony  which 
touches  my  heart,  and  yours,  also,  does  it  not?"  said  the  stranger 
to  his  companion. 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  other,  laughing,  "above  all,  when  it  is 
joined  to  another  interesting  ceremony — that  of  a  good  dinner." 

"Oh,  you  shall  have  a  good  dinner  !"  cried  Etienne,  won  over  by 
the  sympathy  of  tlie  first  speaker.  "  Come  in,  gentlemen,  come  in. 
As  the  guests  of  our  little  son,  you  are  welcome. " 


CHAPTER    CVII. 

THE  GODFATHER. 


"  We  accept  with  pleasure, "  said  the  strangers,  and  they  followed 
the  host  into  the  house.  The  door  of  the  room  where  the  guests  were 
assembled  was  open,  and  the  strangers,  with  a  self-possession  which 


THE  GODFATHER.  421 

proved  them  to  be  of  the  aristocracy,  walked  in  and  mingled  at  once 
in  the  conversation. 

"  Allow  me,  gentlemen, "  said  the  host,  when  he  had  greeted  the 
remainder  of  his  guests,  "allow  me  to  present  you  to  Madame 
Etienne.  She  will  be  proud  to  receive  two  such  distinguished 
strangers  in  her  house  to-day." 

Madame  Etienne,  with  a  woman's  practised  eye,  saw  at  once  that 
these  unknown  guests,  who  were  so  perfectly  unembarrassed  and  yet 
so  courteous,  must  belong  to  the  very  first  ranks  of  societj" ;  and  she 
was  happy  to  be  able  to  show  off  her  savoir  vivre  before  the  rest  of 
the  company. 

She  received  the  two  travellers  with  much  grace  and  affability  ; 
and  whereas  the  curates  were  to  have  been  placed  beside  her  at 
table,  she  assigned  them  to  her  husband,  and  invited  the  strangers 
to  the  seats  instead.  She  informed  them  of  tlie  names  and  station 
of  every  person  i:)resent,  and  then  related  to  them  how  the  winter 
previous,  at  the  ball  of  the  sub-prefect,  she  had  danced  the  whole 
evening,  while  some  of  the  prettiest  girls  in  the  room  had  wanted 
partners. 

The  gentlemen  listened  with  obliging  courtesy,  and  appeared 
deeply  interested.  The  blue-eyed  stranger,  however,  mingled  some- 
what in  the  general  conversation.  He  spoke  with  the  burgomaster 
from  Solanges  of  the  condition  of  his  town,  with  the  curates  of  their 
congregations,  and  seemed  intei-ested  in  the  prosperity  of  French 
manufactures,  about  which  much  was  said  at  table. 

All  were  enchanted  witli  the  tact  and  affability  of  the  strangers. 
Monsieur  Etienne  was  highly  elated,  and  as  for  madame,  her  pale- 
ness had  been  superseded  by  a  becoming  flush,  and  she  never  once 
complained  of  over- exertion. 

The  dinner  over,  the  company  assembled  for  the  baptism.  It  was 
to  take  place  in  the  parlor,  where  a  taV)le  covered  with  a  fine  white 
cloth,  a  wax-caudle,  some  flowers,  a  crucifix,  and  an  improvised 
font,  had  been  arranged  for  tlie  occasion. 

The  noble  stranger  gave  his  arm  to  Madame  Etienne.  "  Madame, " 
said  he,  "  may  I  ask  of  you  the  favor  of  standing  godfather  to  your  son  ?" 

Madame  Etienne  blushed  with  pleasure,  and  replied  that  she  would 
be  most  grateful  for  the  honor. 

"  In  this  way, "  thought  she, "  we  shall  find  out  his  name  and  rank. " 

The  ceremony  began.  The  curate  spoke  a  few  impressive  words 
as  to  the  nature  of  the  sacrament,  and  then  proceeded  to  baptize 
the  infant.  The  water  was  poured  over  its  head,  and  at  last  came 
the  significant  question:  "What  is  the  name  of  the  godfather?" 
All  eyes  were  turned  upon  him,  and  Madame  Etienne 's  heart  beat 
hard,  for  she  expected  to  hear  the  word  "  count  "  at  the  very  least. 

"  My  name  ?"  said  he.     "  Joseph. " 

"Joseph,"  repeated  the  priest.     "Joseph— and  the  surname?" 

"  I  thought  Joseph  would  be  enough, "  said  the  stranger,  with  some 
impatience. 

"  No,  sir,  "  replied  the  priest.  "The  surname,  too,  must  be  regis- 
tered in  the  baptismal  records. " 

"  Very  well,  then,  Joseph  the  Second. " 

"The  Second?"  echoed  the  curate,  with  a  look  of  mistrust.  "  The 
Second  !     Is  tliat  your  surname  ?" 

"Yes,  my  name  is  'The  Second. '  " 

"  Well,  be  it  so, "  returned  the  curate,  with  a  shrug.     "  Joseph— 


422  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

the — Second.  Now.  what  is  your  profession — excuse  me,  sir,  but  I 
ask  the  customary  questions. " 

The  stranger  looked  down  and  seemed  almost  confused. 

The  curate  mildly  repeated  his  question.  "What  is  your  profes- 
sion, or  your  station,  sir?" 

"Emperor  of  Austria,"  replied  Joseph,  smiling. 

A  cry  of  astonishment  followed  this  announcement.  The  pencil 
with  which  the  priest  was  about  to  record  the  "  profession  "  of  the 
godfather  fell  from  his  hands.  Madame  Etienne  in  her  ecstasy  fell 
almost  fainting  into  an  arm-chair,  and  Monsieur  Etienne,  taking 
the  child  from  the  arms  of  the  nurse,  came  and  knelt  witli  it  at  the 
emperor's  feet. 

This  was  the  signal  for  a  renewal  of  life  and  movement  in  the 
room.  All  followed  the  example  of  the  host,  and  in  one  moment  old 
and  young,  men  and  women,  were  on  their  knees. 

"  Your  majesty, "  said  Etienne,  in  a  voice  choked  with  tears, "  you 
have  made  my  child  famous.  For  a  hundred  years  the  honor  you 
have  conferred  upon  him  will  be  the  wonder  of  our  neighborhood, 
and  never  will  the  people  of  Vitry  forget  the  condescension  of  your 
majesty  in  sitting  among  us  as  an  equal  and  a  guest.  My  son  is  a 
Frenchman,  bvit  at  heart  he  shall  also  be  a  German,  like  our  own 
beautiful  queen,  who  is  both  Austrian  and  French.  God  bless  and 
preserve  you  both  !  Long  live  our  queen,  Marie  Antoinette,  and  long 
live  her  noble  brother,  the  Emperor  of  Austria  !" 

The  company  echoed  the  cry,  and  their  shouts  aroused  Madame 
Etienne,  who  arose  and  advanced  toward  her  imperial  visitor.  He 
hastened  to  replace  her  gently  in  her  arm-chair. 

"Where  people  are  bound  together  by  the  ties  of  parent  and  god- 
father, "  said  he,  "  there  must  be  no  unnecessary  ceremony.  Will 
you  do  me  one  favor,  madame?" 

"Sire,  my  life  is  at  your  majesty's  disposal." 

"Preserve  and  treasure  it,  then,  for  the  sake  of  my  godson.  And 
since  you  are  willing  to  do  me  the  favor, "  continued  he,  drawing 
from  his  bosom  a  snuff-box  richly  set  with  diamonds,  "  accept  this 
as  a  remembrance  of  my  pleasant  visit  to  you  to-day.  My  portrait 
is  upon  the  lid,  and  as  I  am  told  that  all  the  lovely  women  in  France 
take  snuff,  perhaps  you  will  take  your  snuff  from  a  box  which  I  hope 
will  remind  you  of  the  giver. 

"And  now,"  continued  the  emperor,  to  the  happy  Monsieur 
Etienne,  "as  I  have  been  admitted  to  the  christening,  perhaps  you 
will  accommodate  me  with  a  pair  of  horses  with  which  I  may  pro- 
ceed to  the  next  stage. " 


CHAPTER    CVIII. 

THE  ARRIVAL  AT  VERSAILLES. 

The  French  court  was  at  Versailles,  it  having  been  decided  by  the 
king  and  queen  that  there  they  would  receive  the  emperor's  visit. 
A  magnificent  suite  of  apartments  had  been  fitted  up  for  his  occu- 
pation, and  distinguished  courtiers  appointed  as  his  attendants.  He 
was  anxiously  expected  ;  for  already  many  an  anecdote  of  his  affa- 
bility and  gonei-osity  had  readied  Paris. 

A  courier  had  arrived  to  sa}'^  that  the  emperor  had  reached  the  last 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  VERSAILLES.  423 

station,  and  would  shortly  be  in  Versailles.  The  queen  received 
this  intelligence  with  tears  of  joy,  and  gathered  all  her  ladies  around 
her  in  the  room  where  she  expected  to  meet  her  brother.  The  king 
merely  nodded,  and  a  shade  of  dissatisfaction  passed  over  his  face. 
He  turned  to  his  confidential  adviser,  Count  Maurepas,  who  was 
alone  with  him  in  his  cabinet. 

"Tell  me  frankly,  what  do  you  think  of  this  visit?" 

The  old  count  raised  his  shoulders  d  la  Frangaise.  "  Sire,  the 
queen  has  so  often  invited  the  emperor,  that  I  presume  he  has  come 
to  gratify  her  longings. " 

"Ah,  bah  !"  said  Louis,  impatiently.  "He  is  not  so  soft-hearted 
as  to  shape  his  actions  to  suit  the  longings  of  his  family.  Speak 
more  candidly. " 

"Your  majesty  commands  me  to  be  perfectly  sincere?" 

"I  entreat  you,  be  truthful  and  tell  me  what  you  think." 

"Then  I  confess  that  the  emperor's  visit  has  been  a  subject  of 
much  mystery  to  your  majesty's  ministers.  You  are  right  in  saying 
that  he  is  not  the  man  to  trouble  himself  about  the  state  of  his  rela- 
tives' affections.  He  comes  to  Paris  for  something  nearer  to  his 
heart  than  any  royal  sister.  Perhaps  his  hope  is  that  he  may  suc- 
ceed in  removing  me,  and  procuring  the  appointment  of  De  Choiseul 
in  my  stead. " 

"  Never  !  Austria  cannot  indulge  such  vain  hopes,  for  her  watch- 
ful spies  must  ere  this  have  convinced  the  Hapsburgs  that  my  dis- 
like toward  this  duke,  so  precious  in  the  eyes  of  Maria  Theresa,  is 
unconquerable.  My  father's  shade  banished  him  to  Chanteloup,  and 
I  will  follow  this  shade  whithersoever  it  leads.  If  my  father  liad 
lived  (and  perchance  Choiseul  had  a  hand  in  his  death)  there  would 
have  been  no  alliance  of  France  with  Austria.  I  am  forced  to  main- 
tain it,  since  my  wife  is  the  daughter  of  Maria  Theresa ;  so  that 
neither  the  Austrian  nor  the  anti -Austrian  party  can  ever  hope  to 
ru)^  in  France.  Marie  Antoinette  is  tlie  wife  of  my  heart,  and  no 
human  being  shall  ever  dislodge  her  thence.  But  my  love  for  her 
can  never  influence  my  policy,  which  is  steadfast  to  the  principles 
of  my  father.  If  Joseph  has  come  hither  for  political  purposes,  he 
might  have  spared  his  pains." 

"  He  may  have  other  views  besides  those  we  have  alluded  to.  He 
may  come  to  gain  your  majesty's  sanction  to  his  ambitious  plans  of 
territorial  aggrandizement.  The  emperor  is  inordinately  ambitious, 
and  is  true  to  the  policy  of  his  house. " 

"Which,  nevertheless,  was  obliged  to  yield  Silesia,"  said  Louis, 
derisively. 

"  That  is  the  open  wound  for  which  Austria  seeks  balsam  from 
Tin-key.  If  your  majesty  does  not  stop  him,  the  emperor  will  light  the 
torch  of  war  and  kindle  a  conflagration  that  may  embrace  all  Europe. " 

"  If  I  can  prevent  war,  it  is  my  duty  to  do  so  ;  for  peace  is  the 
sacred  right  of  my  jieople,  and  nothing  but  imperative  necessity 
would  drive  me  to  invade  that  riglit. " 

"But  the  emperor  is  not  of  your  majesty's  mind.  He  hopes  for 
war,  in  expectation  of  winning  glory." 

"  And  I  for  peace,  with  the  same  expectation.  I,  too,  would  win 
glory— the  glory  of  reigning  over  a  happy  and  prosperous  people. 
The  fame  of  the  conqueror  is  the  scourge  of  mankind  ;  that  of  the 
legislator,  its  blessing.  The  last  shall  be  my  portion— I  have  no 
object  in  view  but  the  welfare  of  the  French  nation. " 

28 


424  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  The  emperor  may  endeavor  to  cajole  your  majesty  through  your 
very  love  for  France.  He  may  propose  to  you  an  extension  of  French 
territory  to  reconcile  you  to  his  acquisitions  in  Turkey.  He  may 
suggest  tlie  Netlierlancis  as  an  equivalent  for  Bosnia  and  Servia. " 

"  I  will  not  accept  the  bribe, "  cried  Louis  hastily.  "  France  needs 
no  aggrandizement.  If  her  boundaries  were  extended,  she  would 
lose  in  strength  what  she  gained  in  size  ;  so  that  Joseph  will  waste 
his  time  if  lie  seeks  to  awaken  in  me  a  lust  of  dominion.  I  thirst 
for  conquest,  it  is  true — the  conquest  of  my  people's  hearts.  May 
my  father's  blessing,  and  my  own  sincere  efforts  enable  me  to 
accomplish  the  one  purpose  of  my  life  !" 

"You  have  accomplished  it,  sire,"  replied  De  Maurepas,  with 
enthusiasm.  "You  are  the  absolute  master  of  your  subjects'  hearts 
and  affections. " 

"  If  so,  I  desire  to  divide  my  domains  with  the  queen, "  said  Louis, 
with  a  searching  look  at  De  Maurepas.  The  minister  cast  down  his 
eyes.  The  king  went  on  :  "You  have  something  against  her  maj- 
esty— what  is  it?" 

"The  queen  has  something  against  me,  sire.  I  am  an  ej^esore  to 
her  majesty.  She  thinks  I  am  in  the  way  of  De  Choiseul,  and  will 
try  every  means  to  have  me  removed. " 

"You  know  that  she  would  try  in  vain.  I  have  already  told  you 
so.  As  a  husband,  I  forget  that  Marie  Antoinette  is  an  Archduchess 
of  Austria,  but  as  my  father's  son — never  !  It  is  the  same  with  her 
brother.  I  may  find  him  agreeable  as  a  relative  ;  but  as  Emperor 
of  Austria,  he  will  know  me  as  King  of  France  alone.  Be  liis 
virtues  what  they  may,  he  never  can  wring  the  smallest  concession 
from  me.  Bvit  hark  ! — I  hear  the  sound  of  wheels.  You  know  my 
sentiments — communicate  them  to  the  other  ministers.  I  go  to  wel- 
come my  kinsman." 

When  the  king  entered  the  queen's  reception-room,  she  was 
standing  in  the  midst  of  her  ladies.  Her  cheeks  were  pale,  but  her 
large,  expressive  eyes  were  fixed  with  a  loving  gaze  vipon  the  door 
through  which  her  brother  was  to  enter.  When  she  saw  the  king, 
she  started  forward,  and  laying  both  her  hands  in  his,  smiled 
affectionately. 

"  Oh,  sire, "  said  she,  "  the  emperor  has  arrived,  and  my  heart 
flutters  so,  that  I  can  scarcely  wait  for  him  here.  It  seems  to  me  so 
cold  that  we  do  not  go  to  meet  him.  Oh,  come,  dear  husband,  let  us 
hasten  to  embrace  our  brother.  Good  Heaven  !  It  is  not  forbidden 
a  queen  to  have  a  heart,  is  it?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  grace  that  well  becomes  her  royal tj', "  said 
Louis,  with  a  smile.  "But  your  brother  does  not  wish  us  to  go  for- 
ward to  meet  him.  That  would  be  an  acknowledgment  of  his  impe- 
rial station,  and  yovi  know  that  he  visits  us  as  Count  of  Falken- 
stein." 

"Oh,  etiquette,  forever  etiquette!"  whispered  the  queen,  while 
she  opened  her  huge  fan  and  began  to  fan  herself.  "  There  is  no 
escape  from  its  fangs.  We  are  rid  of  Madame  de  Noailles,  but  Ma- 
dame Etiquette  has  stayed  behind  to  watcli  our  every  look,  to  for- 
bid us  every  joy — " 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  a  tall,  manly  form  was  seen  upon 
the  threshold.  His  large  blue  eyes  sought  the  queen,  and  recogniz- 
ing her,  his  face  brightened  with  a  bewitching  smile.  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, lieedless  of  etiquette,  uttered  a  cry  of  joy  and  (lew  into  his 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  VERSAILLES.  425 

arms.  "  Brother,  beloved  brother !"  murmured  she,  in  accents  of 
heartfelt  tenderness. 

"  My  sister,  my  own  dear  Antoinette  !"  was  the  loving  reply,  and 
Joseph  drew  lier  head  upon  his  breast  and  kissed  her  again  and 
again.  The  queen,  overcome  by  joy,  burst  into  tears,  and  in  broken 
accents,  welcomed  the  empei'or  to  France. 

The  bystanders  were  deeply  affected,  all  except  the  king — he  alone 
was  unmoved  by  the  touching  scene.  He  alone  had  remarked  witli 
displeasure  that  Marie  Antoinette  had  greeted  her  brother  in  their 
native  tongue,  and  that  Joseph  had  responded.  It  was  a  German 
emperor  and  a  German  archduchess  who  were  locked  in  each  other's 
arms — and  near  them  stood  the  King  of  France,  for  the  moment  for- 
gotten. The  position  was  embarrassing,  and  Louis  had  not  tact 
enough  to  extricate  himself  gracefully.  With  ruffled  brow  and 
downcast  eyes  he  stood,  until,  no  longer  able  to  restrain  his  chagrin, 
he  turned  on  his  heel  to  leave  the  room. 

At  this  moment  a  light  hand  was  laid  upon  his  arm,  and  the  clear, 
sonorous  voice  of  the  queen  was  heard. 

"  My  dear  husband,  whither  are  you  going?" 

"I  am  here  too  soon,"  replied  he,  sliarply.  "I  had  been  told  that 
the  Count  of  Falkeustein  had  arrived,  and  I  came  to  greet  him.  It 
appears  that  it  was  a  mistake,  and  I  retire  until  he  presents  himself. " 

"The  Count  of  Falkeustein  is  here,  sire,  and  asks  a  thousand  par- 
dons for  liaving  allowed  his  foolish  heart  to  get  the  better  of  his 
courtesy,"  said  Joseph,  with  the  superiority  of  better  breeding. 
"Forgive  me  for  taking  such  selfish  possession  of  my  sister's  heart. 
It  was  a  momentary  concession  from  the  Queen  of  France  to  the 
memories  of  her  childhood  ;  but  I  lay  it  at  your  majesty's  feet,  and 
entreat  you  to  accept  it  as  your  well-won  trophy. " 

He  looked  at  the  king  with  such  an  expression  of  cordiality,  that 
Louis  could  not  withstand  him.  A  smile  which  he  could  not  control, 
rippled  the  gloomy  surface  of  the  king's  face  ;  and  he  came  forward, 
offering  both  hands. 

"  I  welcome  you  with  my  whole  heart,  my  brother, "  said  he  in 
reply.  "  Your  presence  in  Versailles  is  a  source  of  happiness  both  to 
the  queen  and  to  myself.  Let  me  accompany  you  to  your  apart- 
ments that  you  may  take  possession  at  once,  and  refresh  yourself 
from  the  fatigues  of  travelling. " 

"Sire, "  replied  Joseph,  "I  will  follow  your  majesty  wheresoever 
you  please  ;  but  I  cannot  allow  you  to  be  inconvenienced  by  my  visit. 
I  am  a  soldier,  unaccustomed  to  magnificence,  and  not  worthy  of 
such  royal  accommodation  as  you  offer. " 

"  How  !"  cried  the  queen.     "  You  will  not  be  our  guest?" 

"I  will  gladly  be  your  guest  at  table  if  you  allow  it,"  replied  the 
emperor,  "but  I  can  dine  with  you  without  lodging  at  Versailles. 
When  I  travel,  I  do  not  go  to  castles  but  to  inns. " 

The  king  looked  astounded.  "To  inns?"  repeated  he  with 
emphasis. 

"  Count  Falkeustein  means  hotels,  your  majesty, "  cried  the  queen, 
laughing.  "  My  brother  is  not  quite  accustomed  to  our  French 
terms,  and  we  will  have  to  teach  him  the  difference  between  a  hotel 
and  an  inn.  But  to  do  this,  dear  brother,  you  must  remain  with  us. 
Your  apartments  are  as  retired  as  you  covild  possibly  desire  them." 

"I  know  that  Versailles  is  as  vast  as  it  is  magnificent, "  said 
Joseph,  "  but  I  have  already  sent  my  valet  to  take  rooms  for  me  in 


426  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Paris.  Let  us,  then,  say  no  more  on  the  subject.*  I  am  very  grate- 
ful to  you  for  your  hospitality,  but  I  have  come  to  France  to  hear, 
to  see,  and  to  learn.  I  must  be  out  early  and  late,  and  that  would 
not  suit  the  royal  etiquette  of  Versailles. " 

"  I  thought  you  had  come  to  Paris  to  visit  the  king  and  myself, " 
said  Marie  Antoinette,  looking  disappointed. 

"  You  were  right,  dear  sister,  but  I  am  not  so  agreeable  that  you 
should  wish  to  have  me  constantly  at  your  side.  I  wish  to  become 
acquainted  with  j^our  beautiful  Paris.  It  is  so  full  of  treasures  of 
art  and  wonders  of  industry,  that  a  man  has  only  to  use  his  eyes,  and 
he  grows  accomplished.  I  am  much  in  need  of  such  advantages, 
sire,  for  you  will  find  me  a  barbarian  for  whose  lapses  you  will  have 
to  be  indulgent. " 

"I  must  crave  then  a  reciprocity  of  indulgence,"  replied  Louis. 
"  But,  come,  count — give  your  arm  to  the  queen,  and  let  her  show 
you  the  way  to  dinner.  To-day  we  dine  en  famille,  and  my  brothers 
and  sisters  are  impatient  to  welcome  Count  Falkenstein  to  Versailles. " 


CHAPTER    CIX. 

COUNT  FALKENSTEIN  IN  PARIS. 

A  MODEST  hackney-coach  stood  before  the  door  of  the  little  Hotel 
de  Turenne,  in  the  Rue  Vivienne.  The  occupant,  who  had  just 
alighted,  was  about  to  enter  the  hotel,  when  the  host,  who  was 
standing  before  the  door,  with  his  hands  plunged  to  the  very  bottom 
of  his  breeches  pockets,  stopped  the  wa}',  and,  not  very  politely,  in- 
quired what  he  wanted. 

"  I  want  what  everybody  else  wants  here,  and  what  your  sign 
offers  to  everybody — lodgings,  "  replied  the  stranger. 

"That  is  precisely  what  you  cannot  have,'"  said  mine  host,  pom- 
pously. "  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  receive  any  one,  not  even  a  gentle- 
man of  your  distinguished  appearance. " 

"Tlien,  take  in  your  sign,  my  friend.  "When  a  man  inveigles 
travellers  with  a  sign,  he  ought  to  be  ready  to  satisfy  their  claims 
upon  his  hospitality.     I,  therefore,  demand  a  room." 

"  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  you  cannot  have  it.  The  Hotel  de  Turenne 
has  been  too  highly  honored  to  entertain  ordinary  guests.  The  Em- 
peror of  Austria,  brother  of  the  beautiful  queen,  has  taken  lodgings 
here. " 

The  stranger  laughed.  "  If  the  emperor  were  to  hear  you,  he  would 
take  lodgings  wi  th  some  one  more  discreet  than  yourself.  He  travels 
incognito  in  France. " 

"  But  everybody  is  in  the  secret,  sir  ;  and  all  Paris  is  longing  for 
a  sight  of  Count  Falkenstein,  of  whom  all  sorts  of  delightfvil  anec- 
dotes are  circulated.  He  is  affabilitiy  itself,  and  speaks  with  men 
generally  as  if  they  were  his  equals. " 

"And  pray, "  said  the  stranger,  laughing,  " is  he  made  differently 
from  other  men?" 

The  host  eyed  his  interrogator  with  anger  and  contempt.     "  This  is 
very  presuming  language, "  said  he,  "  and  as  his  majesty  is  my  guest, 
I  cannot  suffer  it.     The  French  think  the  world  of  him,  and  no  won- 
der, for  he  is  the  most  condescending  sovereign   in   Europe.     He 
*  "  MSmoires  de  Madame  de  Cainpan,"  vol.  i.,  p.  172. 


COUNT  FALKENSTEIN   IN  PARIS.  427 

refused  to  remain  at  the  palace,  and  comes  to  take  up  his  abode  here. 
Is  not  that  magnanimous?" 

"  I  find  it  merely  a  matter  of  convenience.  He  wishes  to  be  in  a 
central  situation.     Has  he  arrived?" 

"  No,  not  yet.  His  valet  is  here,  and  has  set  up  his  camp-bed.  I 
am  waiting  to  receive  the  emperor  and  his  suite  now. " 

"Is  the  valet  Giinther  here?" 

"Ah,  you  know  this  gentleman's  name!  Then  perhaps  you  be- 
long to  the  emperor's  suite?" 

"  Yes, "  said  the  stranger,  laughing,  "  I  shave  him  occasionally. 
Now  call  Giinther. " 

There  was  something  rather  imperious  in  the  tone  of  the  gentle- 
man who  occasionally  shaved  the  emperor,  and  the  landlord  felt  im- 
pelled to  obey. 

"  Of  course, "  said  he,  respectfully,  "  if  you  shave  the  emperor,  you 
are  entitled  to  a  room  here. " 

The  stranger  followed  him  up  the  broad  staircase  that  led  to  the 
first  story  of  the  hotel.  As  tliey  reached  the  landing,  a  door  opened, 
and  the  emperor's  valet  stepped  out  into  the  hall. 

"  His  majesty  !"  exclaimed  he,  quickly  moving  aside  and  stand- 
ing stiff  as  a  sentry  by  the  door. 

"His  majesty!"  echoed  the  landlord.  "Tliis  gentleman^this — 
Your  majesty — have  I — " 

"I  am  Count  Falkenstein, "  replied  the  emperor,  amused.  "You 
see  now  that  you  were  wrong  to  refuse  me  ;  for  the  man  whom  you 
took  for  an  ordinary  mortal  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  em- 
peror himself. " 

The  landlord  bent  the  knee  and  began  to  apologize,  but  Joseph 
stopped  him  short.  "Never  mind,"  said  he,  "follow  me,  I  wish  to 
speak  with  you. " 

The  valet  opened  the  door,  and  the  emperor  entered  the  room,  the 
frightened  landlord  following. 

"These  are  my  apartments?"  continued  Joseph,  looking  around. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty.  " 

"  I  retain  four  of  them — an  anteroom,  a  sitting-room,  a  bedroom, 
and  a  room  for  my  valet.  I  will  keep  them  for  six  weeks,  on  one 
condition." 

"  Your  majesty  has  only  to  command  here. " 

"Well,  then,  I  command  you  to  ferget  what  I  am  in  Austria.  In 
France,  I  am  Count  Falkenstein  ;  and  if  ever  I  hear  myself  spoken 
of  by  any  other  name,  I  leave  your  house  on  the  spot. " 

"  I  will  obey  your  instructions,  count. " 

"  You  understand,  then,  that  I  desire  to  be  received  and  regarded 
as  an  ordinary  traveller.  Whence  it  follows  that  you  will  take  in 
whatever  other  guests  apply  to  you  for  lodging.  You  have  proved 
to  me  to-day  how  vmpleasant  it  is  to  be  turned  away,  and  I  desire  to 
spare  other  applicants  the  same  inconvenience." 

"  Butsuppose  the  Parisians  should  wish  to  see  Count  Falkenstein  ?" 

"They  will  have  to  submit  to  a  disappointment." 

"Should  any  one  seek  an  audience  of — the   count?" 

"The  count  receives  visitors,  but  gives  audience  to  no  one.  His 
visitors  will  be  announced  by  his  valet.  Therefore  you  need  give 
yourself  no  trouble  on  that  head.  Should  any  unfortunate  or 
needy  persons  present  themselves,  you  are  at  liberty  to  admit 
them." 


428  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COUET. 

"  Oh  !"  cried  the  host,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  how  the  Parisians 
will  appreciate  such  generosity  !" 

"They  will  not  have  the  opportunity  of  doing  so,  for  they  shall 
not  hear  a  word  of  it.  Now  go  and  send  me  a  barber  ;  and  take  all 
the  custom  that  presents  itself  to  you,  whether  it  conies  in  a  chariot 
or  a  hackney-coach." 

The  host  retired,  and  as  the  door  was  closing,  Count  Rosenberg 
appeared.     The  emperor  took  his  hand,  and  bade  him  welcome. 

"1  have  just  been  to  the  embassJ^ "  said  Rosenberg,  "and  Count 
von  Mercy  says — " 

"That  I  told  him  I  would  take  rooms  at  the  Hotel  of  the  Ambas- 
sadors, but  I  also  reserve  to  myself  this  nice  little  bachelor  establish- 
ment, to  which  I  may  retreat  when  I  feel  inclined  to  do  so.  The 
advantage  of  these  double  quarters  is,  that  nobody  will  know  exactly 
where  to  find  me,  and  I  shall  enjoy  some  freedom  from  parade.  At 
the  Hotel  of  the  Ambassadors  I  shall  be  continually  bored  with  im- 
perial honors.  Here,  on  the  contrary,  I  am  free  as  air,  and  can 
study  Paris  at  my  leisure. " 

"And  you  intend  to  pursue  these  studies  alone,  count?  Is  no  one 
to  accompany  you  to  spare  you  inconvenience,  perchance  to  assist 
you  in  possible  peril?" 

"  Oh,  my  friend,  as  to  peril,  you  know,  that  I  am  not  easily 
frightened,  and  that  the  Paris  police  is  too  well  organized"  to  lose 
sight  of  me.  Monsieur  de  Sartines,  doubtless,  thinks  that  I  need  as 
much  watching  as  a  house-breaker,  for  it  is  presumed  at  court  that 
I  have  come  to  steal  the  whole  country,  and  carry  it  to  Austria  in 
my  pocket." 

"  They  know  that  to  Count  Falkenstein  nothing  is  impossible, " 
replied  Rosenberg.  "To  carry  away  France  would  not  be  a  very 
hard  matter  to  a  man  who  has  robbed  the  French  people  of  their 
hearts. " 

"Ah,  bah!  the  French  people  have  no  hearts.  They  have  noth- 
ing but  imagination.  There  is  but  one  man  in  France  who  has 
genuine  sensibility — and  that  one  is  their  poor,  timid  young  king. 
Louis  has  a  heart,  but  that  heart  I  shall  never  win.  Heaven  grant 
that  the  queen  have  power  to  make  it  hers  !" 

"  The  queen?  If  Louis  has  a  heart,  it  surely  cannot  be  insensible 
to  the  charms  of  that  lovely  young  queen  !" 

"It  ought  not  to  be,  for  she  deserves  the  love  of  the  best  of  men. 
But  things  are  not  as  they  should  be  here.  I  have  learned  that  in 
the  few  hours  of  my  visit  to  Versailles.  The  queen  lias  bitter  ene- 
mies, and  you  and  I,  Rosenberg,  must  tiy  to  disarm  them." 

"  What  can  I  do,  count,  in  this  matter?" 

"  You  can  watch  and  report  to  me.  Swear  to  me,  as  an  honest 
man,  that  you  will  conceal  nothing  you  hear  to  the  queens  detri- 
ment or  to  mine. " 

"  I  swear  it,  coimt. " 

"Thank  you,  my  friend.  Let  us  suppose  that  our  mission  is  to 
free  my  sister  from  the  power  of  a  dragon,  and  restore  her  to  her 
lover.  You  are  my  trusty  s(juire,  and  together  we  shall  prevail  over 
the  monster,  and  deliver  the  i)rincess. " 

At  that  moment  a  knocking  was  heard  at  the  door.  It  was 
opened,  and  an  elegant  cavalier,  with  hat  and  sword,  entered  the 
room,  with  a.  sweeping  bow.  The  emperor  stepped  politely  forward, 
and  imjuired  his  business. 


COUNT  FALKENSTEIN  IN  PARIS.  429 

The  magnificent  cavalier  waved  his  hat,  and  with  an  air  of  proud 
consciousness,  replied  : 

"  I  was  requested  to  give  my  advice  regarding  the  arrangement 
of  a  gentleman's  hair." 

"Ah,  the  barber,"  said  the  emperor.  "Then  be  so  good,  sir,  as 
to  give  your  advice,  and  dress  my  hair." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  that  is  not  my  profession, "  replied  the  cavalier, 
haughtily.  "I  am  a  physiognomist.  Allow  me  to  call  in  my 
subordinate. " 

"Certainly,"  said  the  emperor,  ready  to  burst  with  laughter,  as 
he  surveyed  the  solemn  demeanor  of  the  artiste.  The  latter  walked 
majestically  to  the  door,  and  opened  it. 

"Jean  !"  cried  he,  with  the  voice  of  a  field-marshal ;  and  a  youth 
fluttered  in,  laden  with  powder-purses,  combs,  curling-tongs,  ribbons, 
pomatum,  and  the  other  appurtenances  o'f  a  first-rate  hair-dresser. 

"Now,  sir,"  said  the  physiognomist,  gravely,  "be  so  good  as  to 
take  a  seat. " 

Joseph  obeyed  the  polite  command,  upon  which  the  physiogno- 
mist retired  several  paces,  folded  his  arms,  and  contemplated  the 
emperor  in  solemn  silence. 

"  Be  so  kind  as  to  turn  your  head  to  the  left^a  little  more — so — 
that  is  it — I  wish  to  see  your  profile, "  said  he,  after  a  while. 

"My  dear  sir,  pray  inform  me  whether  in  France  it  is  customary 
to  take  a  man's  portrait  before  you  dress  his  hair?"  asked  the  em- 
jDeror,  scarcely  able  to  restrain  his  increasing  mirth  ;  while  Rosen- 
berg retired  to  the  window,  where  Joseph  could  see  him  shaking, 
with  his  handkerchief  before  his  mouth. 

"It  is  not  customary,  sir,"  replied  the  phj-siognomist,  with 
grave  earnestness.  "I  study  your  face  that  I  may  decide  which 
style  becomes  you  best. " 

Behind  the  chair  stood  the  hair-dresser  in  a  fashionable  suit  of 
nankeen,  with  lace  cufl's  and  ruffles,  hovering  like  a  large  yellow 
butterfly  over  the  emperor,  and  ready  at  the  signal  to  alight  vipon 
the  imperial  head  with  brush  and  comb. 

The  physiognomist  continued  his  study.  He  contemplated  the 
head  of  the  emperor  from  every  point  of  view,  walking  slowly 
around  him,  and  returning  to  take  a  last  survey  of  the  front. 

Finally  his  eye  rested  majestically  upon  the  butterfly,  which  flut- 
tered with  expectation. 

"  Physiognomy  of  a  free  negro, "  said  he,  with  pathos.  "  Give 
the  gentleman  the  Moorish  coiffure."  *  And  with  a  courtly  salute  he 
left  the  room. 

The  emperor  now  burst  into  shouts  of  laughter,  in  which  he  was 
heartily  joined  by  Rosenberg. 

Meanwhile  the  butterfly  had  set  to  work,  and  was  frizzing  with 
all  his  might. 

"How  will  you  manage  to  give  me  the  Moorish  coiffure?''''  asked 
.  the  emperor,  when  he  had  recovered  his  speech. 

"  I  shall  divide  your  hair  into  a  multitude  of  single  locks  ;  curl, 
friz  them,  and  they  will  stand  out  from  your  head  in  exact  imitation 
of  the  negro's  wool,"  answered  the  butterfly,  triumphantly. 

"I  have  no  doubt  that  it  would   accord  charmingly  with  my 
physiognomy,"  said  the  emperor,  once  more  indulging  in  a  peal  of 
_  laughter,  "  but  to-day  I  must  content  myself  with  the  usual  European 
*  "  Memoires  d'un  Voyageur  qui  se  Repose,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  43. 


430  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

style.     Dress  nij"  hair  as  you  see  it,  and  be  diligent,  for  I  am  pressed 
for  time. " 

The  hair-dresser  reluctantly  obeyed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
work  was  completed  and  the  artiste  had  gone. 

"  Now, "  said  Joseph  to  Count  Rosenberg,  "  I  am  about  to  pay  some 
visits.  My  first  one  shall  be  to  Monsieur  de  Maurepas.  He  is  one 
of  our  most  active  opponents,  and  I  long  to  become  acquainted  with 
my  enemies.  Come,  then,  let  us  go  to  the  hotel  of  the  keeper  of  the 
great  seal. " 

"Your  majesty's  carriages  are  not  here,"  replied  Rosenberg. 

"Dear  friend,  my  equipages  are  always  in  readiness.  Look  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street  at  those  hackney-coaches.  They  are 
my  carriages  for  the  present.  Now  let  us  cross  over  and  select  one 
of  the  neatest. " 

Perfect  silence  reigned  in  the  anteroom  of  Monsieur  de  Maurepas. 
A  liveried  servant,  w^ith  important  mien,  walked  forth  and  back  be- 
fore the  closed  door  of  the  reception-room,  like  a  bull-dog  guarding 
his  master's  sacred  premises.  The  door  of  the  fii'st  anteroom  was 
heard  to  open,  and  the  servant  turned  an  angry  look  toward  two 
gentlemen  who  made  their  appearance. 

"Ah,"  said  he,  "the  two  gentlemen  who  just  now  alighted  from 
the  hackney-coach  ?" 

"  The  same, "  said  the  emperor.     "  Is  monsieur  le  comte  at  home?" 

"  He  is, "  said  the  servant  pompously. 

"Then  be  so  good  as  to  announce  to  him  Count  Falkenstein." 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot 
oblige  you,  sir.  Monsieur  de  Taboreau  is  with  the  count ;  and  until 
their  conference  is  at  an  end,  I  can  announce  nobody. " 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  shall  wait, "  replied  Joseph,  taking  a  seat, 
and  pointing  out  another  to  Count  Rosenberg. 

The  servant  resumed  his  walk,  and  the  two  visitors  in  silence 
awaited  the  end  of  the  conference. 

"Do  you  know,  Rosenberg,"  said  Joseph,  after  a  pause,  "that  I 
am  grateful  to  Count  de  Maurepas  for  this  detention  in  his  ante- 
room? It  is  said  that  experience  is  the  mother  of  wisdom.  Now 
my  experience  of  to-day  teaches  me  that  it  is  excessively  tiresome  to 
wait  in  an  anteroom.  I  think  I  shall  be  careful  for  the  future,  when 
I  have  promised  to  receive  a  man,  not  to  make  him  wait.  Ah  !  here 
comes  another  visitor.     We  are  about  to  have  companions  in  enmii. " 

The  person  who  entered  the  room  was  received  with  more  covirtesy 
than  "  the  gentlemen  who  had  come  in  the  hackney-coach. "  The 
servant  came  forward  with  eagerness,  and  humbly  cr  ived  his  pardon 
while  informing  him  that  his  excellency  was  not  yet  visible. 

"I  shall  wait,"  replied  the  Prince  de  Harrai,  advancing  to  a  seat. 
Suddenly  he  stopped,  and  looked  in  astonishment  at  Count  Falken- 
stein, who,  perfectly  unconcerned,  was  sitting  in  a  corner  of  the 
room. 

"Great  Heaven!  his  majesty,  the  emperor!"  cried  he,  shocked, 
but  recovering  himself  sufficiently  to  make  a  deep  inclination. 

"  Can  your  majesty  pardon  this  unheard-of  oversight !" 

"Peace,  prince, "  replied  the  emperor,  smiling;  "you  will  dis- 
turb the  ministers  at  their  conference." 

"Why,  man,  how  is  it  that  his  excellency  is  not  apprised  of  his 
majesty's  presence  here?"  said  the  Prince  de  Harrai  to  the  lackey. 

"  His  excellency  never  spoke  to  me  of  an  emperor, "  stammered 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  "DAMES  DE  LA  HALLE."       431 

the  terrified  lackey.  "  He  desix-ed  ine  to  admit  no  one  except  a  for- 
eign count,  whose  name,  your  highness,  I  have  been  so  unlucky  as 
to  forget. " 

"  Except  Count  Falkenstein. " 

"  Yes,  your  highness,  I  believe — that  is,  I  think  it — " 

"  And  you  leave  the  count  to  wait  here  in  the  anteroom  !" 

"I  beg  monsieur  le  comte  a  thovisand  pardons.  I  will  at  once 
repair  my  error." 

"Stay, "said  the  emperor,  imperatively.  Then  turning  to  the 
Prince  de  Harrai,  he  continued  good- humoredly  :  "If  your  highness 
is  made  to  wait  in  the  anteroom,  there  is  no  reason  why  the  Count 
of  Falkenstein  should  not  bear  you  company.  Let  us,  then,  wait 
together. " 

The  ministerial  conference  lasted  half  an  hour  longer,  but  at  last 
the  door  opened,  and  Monsieur  de  Maurepas  appeared.  He  was 
coming  forward  with  ineffable  courtesy  to  receive  his  guests,  when 
perceiving  the  emperor,  his  self-possession  forsook  him  at  once. 
Pale,  hurried,  and  confused,  he  stammered  a  few  inaudible  words 
of  apology,  when  Joseph  interrupted  and  relieved  him. 

He  offered  his  hand  with  a  smile,  saj'ing  :  "  Do  not  apologize  ;  it 
is  unnecessary.  It  is  nothing  but  right  that  business  of  state  should 
have  precedence  over  private  visitors." * 

"  But  your  majesty  is  no  private  individual !"  cried  the  minister, 
with  astonishment. 

"  Pardon  me, "  said  the  empei'or,  gravely.  "  As  long  as  I  remain 
here,  I  am  nothing  more.  I  left  the  Emperor  of  Austria  at  Vienna  ; 
he  has  no  concern  with  the  Count  of  Falkenstein,  who  is  on  a  visit 
to  Paris,  and  who  has  come  hither,  not  to  parade  his  rank,  but  to 
see  and  to  learn  where  there  is  so  much  to  be  learned.  May  I  hope 
that  you  will  aid  Count  Falkenstein  in  his  search  after  knowledge?" 


CHAPTER    ex. 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  "DAMES  DE  LA  HALLE." 

A  BRILLIANT  crowd  thronged  the  apartments  of  the  Princess 
d'Artois.  The  roj-al  family,  the  court,  and  the  lords  and  ladies  of 
high  rank  were  assembled  in  her  reception-rooms,  for  close  bj^  an 
event  of  highest  importance  to  France  was  about  to  transpire.  The 
princess  was  giving  birth  to  a  scion  of  royalty.  The  longings  of 
France  were  about  to  be  fulfilled — the  House  of  Bourbon  was  to  have 
an  heir  to  its  greatness. 

The  accouchement  of  a  royal  princess  was  in  those  days  an 
event  that  concerned  all  Paris,  and  all  the  authorities  and  corpora- 
tions of  the  great  capital  had  representatives  in  those  reception- 
rooms.  It  being  only  a  princess  who  was  in  labor,  and  not  a  queen, 
none  but  the  royal  family  and  the  ministers  were  admitted  into  her 
bedchamber.  The  aristocracy  waited  in  the  reception-rooms,  the 
people  in  the  corridors  and  galleries.  Had  it  been  Marie  Antoinette, 
all  the  doors  would  have  been  thrown  open  to  her  subjects.  The 
fishwives  of  Paris,  the  laborers,  the  gamins,  even  the  beggars  had 
as  much  right  to  see  the  Queen  of  Finance  delivered,  as  the  highest 
dignitary  of  the  land.  The  people,  then,  who  thronged  both  palace 
*  The  emperor's  own  words.    Hubuer,  "  Life  of  Joseph  U.,"  p.  14L 


432  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

and  gardens,  were  awaiting  the  moment  when  the  physician  should 
appear  upon  the  balcony  and  announce  to  tlie  enraptured  populace 
that  a  prince  or  princess  had  been  vouchsafed  to  France. 

From  time  to  time  one  of  the  royal  physicians  came  out  to  report 
the  progress  of  affairs,  until  finally  the  voice  of  the  accoucheur  pro- 
claimed that  the  Princess  d'Artois  had  given  birth  to  a  prince. 

A  cry  of  joy  followed  this  announcement.  It  was  that  of  the 
young  mother.  Raising  her  head  from  her  pillow,  she  cried  out  in 
ecstasy,  "Oh,  how  happy,  how  happy  I  am  !"* 

The  queen  bent  over  her  and  kissed  her  forehead,  whispering 
words  of  affectionate  sympathy  in  her  ear  ;  but  no  one  saw  the  tears 
that  fell  from  Marie  Antoinette's  eyes  upon  the  lace-covered  pillow 
of  her  fortunate  kinswoman. 

She  kissed  the  princess  again,  as  though  to  atone  for  those  tears, 
and  with  tender  congratulations  took  her  leave.  She  passed  through 
the  reception-rooms,  greeting  the  company  with  smiling  compos- 
ure, and  then  went  out  into  the  corridors  which  led  to  her  own 
apartments.  Here  the  scene  changed.  Instead  of  the  respectful 
silence  which  had  saluted  her  passage  through  the  rooms,  she  en- 
countered a  hum  of  voices  and  an  eager  multitude  all  pressing  for- 
ward to  do  her  homage  after  their  own  rough  fashion. 

Every  one  felt  bound  to  speak  a  word  of  love  or  of  admiration,  and 
it  was  only  by  dint  of  great  exertion  that  the  two  footmen  who  pre- 
ceded the  queen  were  able  to  open  a  small  space  through  which  she 
could  pass.  She  felt  annoyed — even  alarmed — and  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life  regretted  the  etiquette  which  once  had  required  that  the 
Queen  of  France  should  not  traverse  the  galleries  of  Versailles  with- 
out an  escort  of  her  ladies  of  honor. 

Marie  Antoinette  had  chosen  to  dispense  with  their  attendance, 
and  now  she  was  obliged  to  endure  the  contact  of  those  terrible 
"  dames  de  la  halle, "  who  for  hundreds  of  years  had  claimed  the 
privilege  of  speaking  face  to  face  with  royalty,  and  who  now  pressed 
around  her,  with  jokes  that  crimsoned  Iter  cheeks  while  they  were 
rapturously  received  by  the  canaille. 

With  downcast  eyes  and  trembling  steps,  she  tried  to  hurry  past 
the  odious  crowd  of  poissai'des. 

"Look,  look,"  cried  one,  peering  in  her  face,  "look  at  the  queen 
and  see  her  blushing  like  a  rose-bud  !" 

"  But  indeed,  pretty  queen,  you  should  remember  that  you  are  not 
a  rose-bud,  but  a  full-blown  rose,  and  it  is  time  that  j'ou  were  put- 
ting forth  rose-buds  yourself. " 

"So  it  is,  so  it  is,"  shouted  the  multitude.  "The  queen  owes  us 
a  rose-bud,  and  we  must  have  it." 

"See  here,  pretty  queen,"  cried  another  fish- wife,  "it  is  your 
fault  if  we  stand  here  on  the  staircases  and  out  in  the  hot  sun  to-day. 
If  you  had  done  your  duty  to  France  instead  of  leaving  it  to  the 
princess  in  yonder,  the  lackeys  would  have  been  obliged  to  open  the 
doors  to  us  as  well  as  to  the  great  folks,  and  we  would  have  jostled 
the  dukes  and  princes,  and  taken  our  ease  on  your  velvet  sofas.  The 
next  time  we  come  here,  we  must  have  a  tramp  into  the  queen's 
room,  and  she  must  let  us  see  herself  and  a  brave  dauphin,  too. " 

*  Madame  deCampan,  vol.  i.,  p.  210.  The  prince  whose  advent  was  a  source  of 
Ktioh  triumph  to  his  mother,  was  the  Duke  de  Berry,  father  of  the  present  Count  de 
( 'hail ill.  11(1  Tie  it  was  who,  in  ISOT.  was  stabbed  as  he  was  about  to  enter  the  theatre, 
and  died  in  the  arms  of  l.ouis  XVllI.,  former  Count  de  Froveuce. 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  "DAMES  DE  LA  HALLE."   433 

"Yes,  yes,"  cried  the  fish-wives  in  chorus,  "when  we  come  back 
we  must  see  the  young  dauphin. " 

The  queen  tried  to  look  as  though  she  heard  none  of  this.  Not 
once  had  she  raised  her  eyes  or  turned  her  head.  Now  she  was  com- 
ing to  the  end  of  her  painful  walk  through  the  corridors,  for  Heaven 
be  praised  !  just  before  her  was  tlie  door  of  her  own  antejoom.  Once 
across  that  threshold  she  was  safe  from  the  coarse  ribaldry  that  was 
making  her  heart  throb  and  her  cheeks  tingle  ;  for  there  the  rights 
of  the  people  ended,  and  those  of  the  sovereign  began. 

But  the  "dames  de  la  halle  "  were  perfectly  aware  of  this,  and 
they  were  determined  that  she  should  not  escape  so  easily. 

"Promise  us, "  cried  a  loud,  shrill  voice,  "promise  us  that  we 
sliall  have  a  young  dauphin  as  handsome  as  his  mother  and  as  good 
as  his  father. " 

"Yes,  promise,  promise, "  clamored  the  odious  throng  ;  and  men 
and  women  pressed  close  upon  the  queen  to  see  her  face  and  hear  her 
answer. 

Marie  Antoinette  had  almost  reached  her  door.  She  gave  a  sigh 
of  relief,  and  for  the  first  time  raised  her  eyes  with  a  sad,  reproach- 
ful look  toward  her  tormentors. 

Just  then  a  strapping,  wide-shouldered  huckster,  pushed  her 
heavy  body  between  the  queen  and  the  door,  and  barring  the  en- 
trance with  her  great  brown  arms,  cried  out  vociferously  :  "  You 
do  not  pass  until  you  promise  !  We  love  you  and  love  the  king  : 
we  will  none  of  the  Count  de  Provence  for  our  king ;  we  must  have 
a  dauphin. " 

The  queen  still  pretended  not  to  hear.  She  tried  to  evade  the 
poissarde  and  to  slip  into  her  room  ;  but  the  woman  perceived  the 
motion,  and  confronted  her  again. 

"  Be  so  kind,  madame, "  said  Marie  Antoinette,  mildly,  "  as  to 
allow  me  to  pass. " 

"Give  us  the  promise,  then,"  said  the  fish-wife,  putting  her 
arms  a-kimbo. 

The  other  women  echoed  the  words,  "  Give  us  the  promise,  give 
us  tlie  promise  !" 

Poor  Marie  Antoinette !  She  felt  her  courage  leaving  her — she 
must  be  rid  of  this  fearful  band  of  viragos  at  any  price.  She  would 
faint  if  she  stood  there  much  longer. 

Again  the  loud  cry — "Promise  us  a  dauphin,  a  dauphin,  a 
dauphin  !" 

"I  promise,"  at  last  replied  the  queen.  "Now,  madame,  in 
mercy,  let  me  have  entrance  to  my  own  rooms. " 

The  woman  stepped  back,  the  queen  passed  away,  and  behind 
her  the  people  shouted  out  in  every  conceivable  tone  of  voice,  "  She 
has  promised.     The  queen  has  promised  a  dauphin  !" 

Marie  Antoinette  walked  hurriedly  forward  through  the  first 
anteroom  where  her  footman  waited,  to  the  second  wherein  her 
ladies  of  honor  w^ei'e  assembled. 

Without  a  word  to  any  of  them  she  darted  across  the  room  and 
opening  the  door  of  her  cabinet,  threw  herself  into  an  arm-chair 
and  sobbed  aloud.  No  one  was  there  excepting  Madame  de  Cam- 
pan. 

"  Campan, "  said  she,  while  tears  were  streaming  down  her  cheeks, 
"shut  the  door,  close  the porhere.  Let  no  one  witness  the  sorrow  of 
the  Queen  of  France  !" 


434  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

With  a  passionate  gesture,  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
wept  aloud. 

After  a  while  she  raised  her  tearful  eyes  and  they  rested  upon 
Madame  de  Campan,'  who  was  kneeling  before  her  with  an  expres- 
sion of  sincerest  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  Ca,mpan,  what  humiliation  I  have  endured  to-day !  The 
poorest  woman  on  the  street  is  more  fortunate  than  I ;  and  if  she 
bears  a  child  upon  her  arm,  she  can  look  down  with  compassion 
upon  the  lonely  Queen  of  France,  — that  queen  upon  whose  marriage 
the  blessing  of  God  does  not  rest ;  for  she  has  neither  husband  nor 
child. " 

"  Say  not  so,  your  majesty,  for  God  has  smitten  your  enemies, 
and  with  His  own  tender  hand  He  is  kindling  the  fire  of  love  in  the 
heart  of  the  king  your  husband. " 

Marie  Antoinette  shook  her  head  sadly.  "  No— the  king  does  not 
love  me.  His  heart  does  not  respond  to  mine.  He  loves  me,  per- 
haps, as  a  sister,  but  no  more— no  more  !" 

"  He  loves  your  majesty  with  the  passion  and  enthusiasm  of  a 
lover,  but  he  is  very  timid,  and  waits  for  some  token  of  reciprocity 
before  he  dares  to. avow  his  love." 

"  No,  he  does  not  love  me, "  repeated  Marie  Antoinette  with  a 
sigh.  '  I  have  tried  every  means  to  win  his  heart.  He  is  indulgent 
toward  my  failings,  and  kindly  anticipates  my  wishes  ;  sometimes 
he  seems  to  enjoy  my  society,  but  it  is  with  the  calm,  collateral 
affection  of  a  brother  for  his  sister.  And  I!— oh,  my  God!  my 
whole  heart  is  his,  and  craves  for  that  ardent,  joy-bestowing  love  of 
which  poets  sing,  and  which  noble  women  prize  above  every  earthly 
blessing.  Such  love  as  my  father  gave  to  my  happy  mother,  I  would 
that  the  king  felt  ir'r  me. " 

"  The  king  does  not  know  the  extent  of  his  love  for  your  majesty, " 
said  De  Campan  soothingly.  "  Some  fortunate  accident  or  dream  of 
jealousy  will  reveal  it  to  him  before  long." 

"  God  speed  the  accident  or  the  dream  !"  sighed  the  queen  ;  and 
forthwith  her  tears  began  to  flow  anew,  while  her  hands  lay  idly 
upon  her  lap. 

Those  burning  tears  at  last  awakened  her  from  the  apathy  of 
grief.  Suddenly  she  gave  a  start  and  threw  back  her  head.  Then 
she  rose  from  her  seat,  and,  like  Maria  Theresa,  began  to  pace  the 
apartment.  Gradually  her  face  resumed  its  usual  expression,  and 
her  demeanor  became,  as  it  was  wont  to  be,  dignified  and  graceful. 

Coming  directly  up  to  Madame  de  Campan,  she  smiled  and  gave 
her  hand.  "Good  Campan,"  said  she,  "you  have  seen  me  in  a  mo- 
ment of  weakness,  of  which  I  am  truly  ashamed.  Try  to  forget  it, 
dear  friend,  and  I  promise  that  it  shall  never  be  repeated.  And 
now,  call  my  tire-women  and  order  my  carriage.  Leonard  is  coming 
with  a  new  coiffure,  and  Bertin  has  left  me  several  beautiful  hats. 
Let  us  choose  the  very  prettiest  of  them  all,  for  I  must  go  and  show 
myself  to  the  people.  Order  an  open  carriage,  that  every  one  may 
6ee  my  face,  and  no  one  may  say  that  the  queen  envies  the  maternal 
joys  of  the  Countess  d'Artois.  To-night  we  are  to  have  the  opera 
of  'Iphigenia'— it  is  one  of  my  magnificent  teacher's  chefs-cVmivre. 
The  emperor  and  I  are  to  go  together  to  listen  to  our  divine  Gluck's 
music,  and  Paris  nmst  believe  that  Marie  Antoinette  is  happy— too 
happy  to  envy  any  woman!  Come,  Campan,  and  dress  me  be- 
comingly." 


THE  ADOPTED  SON  OF  THE  QUEEN.  435 

CHAPTER    CXI. 

THE  ADOPTED  SON  OF  THE  QUEEN. 

An  hour  later,  the  queen  entered  her  carriage  in  all  the  splendor 
of  full  dress.  Leonard  had  altered  her  coiffure.  Instead  of  the 
three-story  tower,  her  hair  was  low,  and  she  wore  a  most  becoming 
hat,  chiefly  made  up  of  flowers  and  feathers.  She  also  wore  rouge, 
for  she  was  very  pale  ;  and  to  conceal  the  traces  of  weeping  she  had 
drawn  a  faint  dark  line  below  her  lower  lashes  which  greatly  in- 
creased the  brilliancy  of  her  eyes. 

She  oi'dered  her  coachman  to  drive  through  the  town.  Wherever 
the  royal  outriders  announced  her  coming,  the  people  gathered  on 
either  side  of  the  streets  to  wave  their  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and 
greet  her  with  eveiy  demonstration  of  enthusiasm  and  love. 

Marie  Antoinette  greatly  enjoyed  her  popularity,  she  bowed  her 
head,  and  smiled,  and  waved  her  hand  in  return,  calling  vipon  the 
ladies  who  accompanied  her  to  sympathize  with  her  happiness. 

"  Indeed, "  said  she  to  the  Princess  de  Lamballe,  *  "  the  people  love 
me,  I  do  believe.  They  seem  glad  to  see  me,  and  I,  too,  like  to  see 
them. " 

"Your  majesty  sees  that  in  Versailles,  as  in  Paris,  you  have 
thousands  of  lovers, "  replied  the  princess. 

"Ah,"  said  the  queen,  "my  lovers  are  there  to  be  seen  ;  but  my 
enemies,  who  lie  concealed,  are  more  active  than  my  friends.  And 
how  do  I  know  that  they  are  not  now  among  the  crowd  that  wel- 
comes me  !  How  dreadful  it  is  to  wear  a  mask  through  life  !  They, 
perhaps,  who  shout '  Long  live  the  queen, '  are  plotting  against  her 
peace,  and  I,  who  smile  in  return,  da,re  not  trust  them  !" 

The  I'oyal  equipage  had  now  reached  the  gates,  and  was  passing 
into  the  country.  Marie  Antoinette  felt  a  sense  of  relief  at  the 
change.  She  gazed  with  rapture  upon  the  rich  foliage  of  the  trees, 
and  then  looking  joensively  above  for  a  few  moments,  she  watched 
the  floating  clouds  of  blue  and  silver,  and  then  followed  the  flight  of 
the  birds  that  were  soaring  in  such  freedom  through  the  air. 

"  How  I  wish  that  I  could  fly!"  said  she,  sighing.  "We  mortals 
are  less  privileged  than  the  little  birds — we  must  creep  along  the 
earth  with  the  i-eptiles  that  we  loath  1  Faster,  tell  the  coacliman  to 
drive  faster  !"  cried  she,  eagerly,  "I  would  like  to  move  rapidly  just 
now.     Faster,  still  faster  !" 

The  command  went  forward,  and  the  outriders  dashed  ahead  at 
full  speed.  The  carriage  whirled  past  the  cottages  on  the  wayside, 
while  the  queen,  leaning  back  upon  her  satin  cushions,  gave  herself 
up  to  the  dreamy  enjoyment  which  steals  over  the  senses  during  a 
rapid  drive. 

Suddenly  there  was  an  exclamation,  and  the  horses  were  reined 
in.     The  queen  started  from  her  reverie,  and  leaned  forward. 

"What  has  happened?"  cried  she  of  the  equerry,  who  at  that  mo- 
ment sprang  to  the  side  of  the  caleclie. 

'*  Your  majesty,  a  child  has  just  run  across  the  road,  and  has  been 
snatched  from  under  the  horses'  feet." 

*Tlie  Princess  de  Lamballe  was  subsequently  beheaded,  and  her  head  was  carried 
thr»ugh  the  streets  of  Paris  on  a  pike.— Trans. 


436  JOSEPH   II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

"A  child  !"  exclaimed  the  queen,  starting  from  her  seat.  "Is  it 
killed?" 

"  No,  your  majesty.  It  is  luckily  unhurt.  The  coachman  reined 
up  his  horses  in  time  for  one  of  the  outriders  to  save  it.  It  is  im- 
hurt — nothing  but  frightened.  Your  majesty  can  see  him  now  in 
the  arms  of  the  old  peasant-woman  there. " 

"  She  is  about  to  return  to  the  cottage  with  it, "  said  the  queen. 
Then  stretching  lier  arms  toward  the  old  woman,  she  cried  out  in 
an  imploring  voice  :  "  Give  me  the  child— bring  it  here  !  Heaven 
has  sent  it  to  me  as  a  comfort !     Give  it  to  me,  I  entreat  you. " 

Meanwhile  the  old  woman,  recalled  by  the  equerry,  was  ap- 
proaching the  carriage.  "  See, "  exclaimed  the  queen  to  her  ladies, 
"see  what  a  lovely  boy  !"  And,  indeed,  he  was  a  beautiful  child, 
in  spite  of  his  little  tattered  red  jacket,  and  his  bare  brown  legs,  as 
dark  with  dirt  as  with  sunburn. 

"Where  is  his  mother?"  asked  Marie  Antoinette,  looking  com- 
passionately at  the  child. 

"  My  daughter  is  dead,  madame, "  said  the  peasant.  "  She  died 
last  winter,  and  left  me  the  burden  of  five  young  children  to  feed." 

"  They  shall  burden  you  no  longer, "  exclaimed  the  queen  kindly. 
"I  will  maintain  them  all,  and  this  little  angel  you  must  give  to 
me.     Will  you  not?" 

"  Ah,  madame,  the  child  is  only  too  lucky  !  But  my  little  Jacob 
is  so  wilful  that  he  will  not  stay  with  you. " 

"I  will  teach  him  to  love  me,"  returned  the  queen.  "Give  him 
to  me  now." 

She  leaned  forward  and  received  the  child  from  his  grand- 
mother's arms.  It  was  so  astounded,  that  it  uttered  not  a  cry  ;  it 
only  opened  its  great  blue  eyes  to  their  vitmost,  while  the  queen 
settled  it  upon  her  lap. 

"  See, "  exclaimed  the  delighted  Marie  Antoinette,  "  he  is  not  at  all 
afraid  of  me.  Oh,  we  are  going  to  be  excellent  friends  !  Adieu, 
my  poor  old  grandmother.  I  will  send  you  something  for  your 
children  as  soon  as  I  reach  home.  And  now.  Monsieur  deVievigne, 
let  us  return  to  Versailles.  Tell  your  grandmamma  good-by,  little 
Jacob.     You  are  going  to  ride  with  me. " 

"Adieu,  my  little  one, "said  the  grandmother.  "Don't  forget 
your — " 

Her  words  were  drowned  in  the  whirr  of  the  carriage,  which 
disappeared  from  her  wondering  eyes  in  a  cloud  of  dust. 

The  motion,  the  noise,  and  the  air  brushing  his  curls  into  his 
face,  awakened  the  boy  from  his  stupor.  He  started  from  the 
queen's  arms,  and  looking  wildly  ai-ound,  began  to  yell  with  all  his 
might.  Never  had  such  unharmonious  sounds  assailed  the  ears  of 
the  queen  before.  But  she  seemed  to  be  quite  amused  with  it.  The 
louder  little  Jacob  screamed  and  kicked,  the  closer  she  pressed  him 
to  her  heart ;  nor  did  she  seem  to  observe  that  his  dirty  little  feet 
were  leaving  unsightly  marks  upon  her  rich  silk  dress. 

The  caleche  arrived  at  Versailles,  and  drew  up  before  the  doors  of 
the  palace.  With  her  newly  acquired  treasure  in  her  arms,  the 
queen  attempted  to  leave  the  carriage,  but  the  shrieks  and  kicks  be- 
came so  vigorous,  that  she  was  obliged  to  put  the  child  down.  The 
pages,  gentlemen,  and  ladies  in  waiting,  stared  in  astonishment  as 
her  majesty  went  by,  holding  the  refractory  little  peasant  by  the 
hand,  his  rosy  cheeks  covered  with  many  an  arabesque,  the  joint 


"CHANTONS,   CELEBRONS   NOTRE  REINE."  437 

production  of  tears  and  dirt.  Little  cared  Jacob  for  the  splendor 
around  him  ;  still  less  for  the  caresses  of  his  royal  protectress. 

"  I  want  to  go  to  my  grandmother, "  shrieked  he,  "  I  want  my 
brother  Louis  and  sister  Marianne  !" 

"Oh,  dear  little  one!"  cried  the  queen,  "what  an  affectionate 
heart  he  has  !  He  loves  his  relatives  better  than  all  our  luxury,  and 
the  Queen  of  France  is  less  to  him  than  his  poor  old  gi-andmother ! 
— Never  mind,  darling,  you  shall  be  loved  as  well  and  better  than 
you  ever  were  at  home,  and  all  the  more  that  you  have  not  learned 
to  flatter !" 

She  bent  down  to  caress  him,  but  he  wiped  off  her  kisses  with 
indignation.  Marie  Antoinette  laughed  heartily,  and  led  the  child 
into  her  cabinet,  where  she  placed  him  on  the  very  spot  where  she 
had  been  weeping  a  few  hours  earlier. 

"Campan, "  said  she,  "see  how  good  God  has  been  to  me  to-day  ! 
He  has  sent  me  a  child  upon  whom  I  can  lavish  all  the  love  which 
is  consuming  my  poor,  lonely  heart.  Yes,  my  little  one,  I  will  be 
a  mother  to  you,  and  may  God  and  your  own  mother  hear  my  vow  ! 
Now,  Campan,  let  us  take  counsel  together  as  to  what  is  to  be  done. 
First,  we  must  have  a  nurse,  and  then  his  face  must  be  washed,  and 
he  must  be  dressed  as  becomes  my  pretty  little  adopted  son." 

The  child,  who  had  ceased  his  cries  for  a  moment,  now  broke  out 
into  fresh  shrieks.  "I  want  to  go  home  !  I  won't  stay  here  in  this 
big  house  !    Take  me  to  my  gi-andmother  !" 

"  Hush,  you  unconscionable  little  savage !"  said  Madame  de 
Campan. 

"Oh,  Campan!"  cried  the  queen  deprecatingly,  "how  can  you 
chide  the  little  fellow  !  His  cries  are  so  many  proofs  of  the  honesty 
of  his  heart,  which  is  not  to  be  bribed  of  its  love  by  all  that  royalty 
can  bestow !"  * 


CHAPTER    CXII. 

" CHANTONS,   CELEBRONS  NOTRE  REINE." 

The  opera-house  was  full  to  overflowing.  In  the  lowest  tier  were 
the  ladies  of  the  aristocracy,  their  heads  surmounted  by  those  abom- 
inable towers  of  Leonard's  invention.  Above  them  sat  the  less  dis- 
tinguished spectators ;  and  the  parquet  was  thronged  by  poets, 
learned  men,  students,  and  civil  officers  of  various  grades.  Almost 
every  class  fovmd  some  representatives  in  that  brilliant  assemblage  ; 
and  each  one  felt  keenly  the  privilege  he  enjoyed  in  being  present 
on  that  particular  occasion.  But  it  was  not  altogether  for  the  sake 
of  the  music  that  all  Paris  had  flocked  to  the  opera.  The  Parisians 
were  less  desirous  to  hear  "  Iphigenia, "  than  to  see  the  emperor,  who 
was  to  be  there  in  company  with  his  sister. 

Since  his  arrival  in  the  capital,  Joseph  had  been  the  theme  of 
every  conversation.     Every  one  had  something  to  relate  of  his  affa- 

*The  queen  kept  her  word.  The  boy  was  brought  up  as  her  own  child.  He  al- 
ways breakfasted  and  dined  by  her  side,  and  she  never  called  him  by  any  other  name 
save  that  of  "  my  child. "  When  Jacques  grew  up,  he  displayed  a  taste  for  painting, 
and  of  course  had  every  advantage  which  roval  protection  could  afford  him.  He  was 
privileged  to  ajtproach  the  queen  unannounced.  But  when  the  Revolution  brokeout, 
this  miserable  wretch,  to  avoid  unpopularity,  joined  the  Jacobins,  and  was  one  of  the 
queen's  bitterest  enemies  and  most  frenzied  accusers. 


438  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

bility,  his  condescension,  or  his  goodness.  His  bon  mots,  too,  were 
in  every  mouth  ;  and  tlie  Parisians,  who  at  every  epoch  have  been  so 
addicted  to  wit,  were  so  much  the  more  enraptured  with  the  im- 
promptu good  things  which  fell  from  Joseph's  lips,  that  the  Bour- 
bons were  entirely  deficient  in  sprightliness. 

Every  man  hg,d  an  anecdote  to  relate  that  concerned  Joseph. 
Yesterday  he  had  visited  the  Hotel-Dieu.  He  had  even  asked  for 
admission  to  the  apartments  of  the  lying-in  women,  and  upon  being 
refused  entrance  by  the  sisters,  he  had  said,  "  Do  let  me  see  the  first 
scene  of  human  misery."  The  sisters,  struck  by  the  words  as  well 
as  by  the  noble  bearing  of  the  stranger,  had  admitted  him  ;  and  upon 
taking  leave  he  had  remarked  to  the  nun  who  accompanied  him, 
"The  sufferings  which  you  witness  in  this  room,  reconcile  you 
without  doubt  to  the  vows  you  have  made."  It  was  only  after  his 
departure  that  his  rank  was  discovered,  and  this  by  means  of  the 
gift  he  left  in  the  hands  of  the  prioress — a  draft  upon  the  imperial 
exchequer  of  forty-eight  thousand  livres. 

A  few  days  previous,  he  had  sought  entrance  to  the  "  Jardin  des 
Plantes  ;"  but  the  porter  had  refused  to  open  the  gates  until  a  larger 
number  of  visitors  should  arrive.  So  the  emperor,  instead  of  dis- 
covering himself,  took  a  seat  under  the  trees  and  waited  quietly 
until  the  jieople  had  assembled.  On  his  return,  he  had  given  eight 
louis  d'ors  to  the  porter  ;  and  thus  tlie  latter  had  learned  his  maj- 
esty's rank. 

Again — the  emperor  had  called  upon  Buffon,  announcing  himself 
simply  as  a  ti-aveller.  Buffon,  who  was  indisposed,  had  gone  for- 
ward to  receive  his  guest  in  a  dressing-gown.  His  embarrassment, 
as  he  recognized  his  imperial  visitor,  had  been  very  great.  But 
Joseph,  laughing,  said,  "'When  the  scholar  comes  to  visit  his 
teacher,  do  you  suppose  that  he  troubles  himself  about  the  profes- 
sor's costume?" 

'  That  was  not  all.  He  was  equally  affable  with  artists.  He  talked 
daily  with  the  painters  in  the  Louvre  ;  and  having  paid  a  visit  to 
the  great  actor  Le  Kain,  whom  he  had  seen  the  night  before  in  the 
character  of  a  Roman  emperor,  he  found  him  like  Buffon  in  a  dress- 
ing-gown. 

When  Le  Kain  would  have  apologized,  the  emperor  had  said, 
"  Surely  emperors  need  not  be  so  fastidious  one  toward  the  other  !" 

"The  emperor  goes  every  where, "  cried  a  voice  in  the  crowd. 
"Yesterday  he  paid  a  visit  to  one  of  the  tribunals  and  remained  dur- 
ing the  sitting.  He  was  recognized,  and  the  president  would  have 
assigned  him  a  seat  among  the  council,  but  the  emperor  declined 
and  remained  in  a  trellised-box  with  the  other  spectators." 

"How!"  cried  another  voice,  "the  emperor  sat  in  a  little  com- 
mon trellised-box?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  first  speaker,  "he  was  in  one  of  those  boxes 
called  lanterns.  Even  Marsorio  and  Pasquin  had  something  to  say 
on  the  subject. "  * 

"What  did  they  say?  Tell  us  what  said  our  good  friends,  Mar- 
sorio and  Pasquin. " 

"Here  it  is.  I  found  it  pasted  on  a  corner  of  the  Palais  Royal 
and  I  tore  it  down  and  put  it  in  my  pocket.     Shall  I  read  it?" 

*  Marsorio  and  Pasquin  were  the  anonymous  wits  of  the  people,  the  authors  of 
all  the  epigrams  and  pasipiinades  wliich  were  ))asted  about  thestreets  and  originated 
with— nobody.    Marsorio  and  Pasquin  still  e.xist  in  Rome. 


"CHANTONS,   CELEBRONS   NOTRE  REINE."  439 

"Yes,  yes,"  cried  the  multitude;  and  it  was  whispered  among 
them  that  this  was  Riquelmont,  the  author  of  the  satires  that  were 
sung  on  the  Pont-Neuf,  and  were  attributed  to  Marsorio  and  Pas- 
quin. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  listen  !" 

And  with  a  loud  voice,  Riquelmont  began  to  read  : 

"  Marsorio.— Grand  miracle,  Pasquin. 

Le  soleil  dans  une  lanteme  I 
Pasquin.— AUons  done,  tu  me  hemes! 
Marsorio.— Pour  te  dire  le  vrai,  tiens :  Diogdne  en  vain 

Cherchait  jadis  un  homme,  une  lanteme  fl,  la  main, 

Eh  bien,  k  Paris  ce  matin 

II  Teut  trouv6  dans  la  lanteme." 

"Good,  good!"  cried  the  listeners,  "the  emperor  is  indeed  a 
w^onderful — " 

Just  then  the  bell  for  the  curtain  was  heard,  and  the  crowd 
pressed  into  the  parterre.  Amid  the  profoundest  stillness  the  opera 
began.  Before  the  first  scene  had  ended,  a  sliglit  rustling  of  chairs 
was  heard  in  the  king's  box,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  thither.  The 
whole  royal  family,  with  the  exception  of  the  king,  were  there  ;  and 
in  their  midst,  loveliest  of  all,  appeared  the  young  queen,  brilliant 
with  youth,  grace,  and  beauty  as  she  bent  her  head,  and,  with  be- 
witching smiles,  returned  the  greetings  of  her  subjects. 

The  audience  broke  out  into  a  storm  of  rapturous  applause,  and 
Marie  Antoinette,  kissing  her  fair  hand,  took  her  seat  and  prepared 
to  listen  to  the  music. 

But  the  spectators  were  less  interested  in  "Iphigenia"  than  in  the 
imperial  box.  Their  eyes  were  continually  seeking  the  emperor, 
who,  concealed  behind  the  heavy  velvet  draperies,  was  absorbed  in 
the  performance.  At  one  stage  of  the  representation,  Iphigenia  is 
led  in  triumph  through  the  Greek  camp,  while  a  chorus  of  Thes- 
salians  sing — 

"  Que  d'attraits,  que  de  majesty, 
Que  de  graces  1  que  de  beautfi  I 
Chantons,  c616hrons  notre  reine !  " 

The  audience  took  the  cue  and  transformed  themselves  into  actors. 
Every  eye  and  every  head  turned  to  the  royal  box,  and  for  the  sec- 
ond time  every  hand  was  raised  to  applaud.  From  boxes,  galleries, 
and  parquet,  the  cry  was,  "  Da  capo,  da  capo  !     Again  that  chorus  !" 

The  singer  who  represented  Achilles  comprehended  that  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  spectators  was  not  for  the  music. 

Enchanted  with  the  idea  of  being  the  mouthpiece  of  the  people, 
he  stepped  to  the  front  of  the  stage,  and  raising  his  arm  in  the 
direction  of  the  royal  box,  he  repeated  the  line, 

"  Chantous,  c616hrons  notre  reine!  " 

The  heart  of  the  young  queen  overflowed  with  excess  of  joy.  She 
leaned  toward  the  emperor,  and  gently  drawing  him  forward,  the 
brother  and  sister  both  acknowledged  the  graceful  compliment.  The 
emperor  was  saluted  with  shouts,  and  the  singers  began  for  the 
second  time,  "  Chantons,  celebrons  notre  reine ! "  The  people,  wnth 
one  accord,  rose  from  their  seats,  and  now,  on  every  side,  even  from 
the  stage,  were  heard  the  cries  of  "Long  live  our  queen  !  Long  live 
the  emperor !" 

Marie  Antoinette,  leaning  on  her  brother's  arm,  bent  forward 

29 


440  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COUET. 

again,  and,  for  the  third  time,  the  singers,  and  with  them  the  peo- 
ple, sang,  "  Chantons,  celebrons  notre  reine ! " 

This  time,  every  occupant  of  the  imperial  box  rose  to  return 
acknowledgments,  and  the  audience  began  for  the  fourth  time, 

"  Chantons,  c616brons  notre  reine! " 

The  queen  was  so  overcome,  that  she  could  no  longer  restrain  her 
tears.  She  tried  to  incline  her  head,  but  her  emotion  overpowered 
her,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  handkerchief,  she  leaned  upon 
tlie  shoulder  of  her  brother,  and  wejjt. 

The  applause  ceased.  The  emotion  of  Marie  Antoinette  had 
communicated  itself  to  her  worshippers,  and  many  an  eye  was 
dimmed  with  sympathetic  tears. 

Suddenly,  in  t\\e  parterre,  a  tall,  manly  form  arose  from  his  seat, 
and,  pointing  to  the  queen,  recited  the  following  couplet : 

"  Si  le  peuple  peut  esp6rer 
Qu'il  lui  sera  permis  de  rire, 
Ce  n'est  que  sous  Theureux  empire 
Des  princes  qui  savent  pleurer." 

This  happy  impromptu  was  enthusiastically  received.  Marie 
Antoinette  had  dried  her  tears  to  listen,  and  as  she  prepared  to  leave 
the  theatre,  she  turned  to  her  brother,  and  said  : 

"  Oh  !  that  I  could  die  now  !  Death  would  be  welcome,  for  in 
this  proud  moment  I  have  emptied  my  cup  of  earthly  joy  !  "  * 


CHAPTER    CXIII. 

THE    HOTEL     TURENNE. 

The  host  of  the  Hotel  Turenne  had  punctually  obeyed  the  orders 
of  Count  Falkenstein.  He  had  taken  every  applicant  for  rooms, 
whether  lie  came  in  an  ignominious  hackney-coach  or  in  a  magnifi- 
cent carriage. 

But  now  every  room  was  taken,  and  the  host,  fearful  of  conse- 
quences, was  waiting  for  the  emperor  to  appear,  that  he  might  be 
informed  of  the  important  fact. 

In  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  his  imperial  majesty  was  seen  coming 
down  the  staircase,  and  Monsieur  Louis  approached,  with  a  low 
bow. 

"May  I  have  the  honor  of  speaking  with  Count  Falkenstein?" 

" Certainly, "  said  the  count.     "  What  is  it?" 

"I  wislied  to  inform  monsieur  le  comte,  that  my  hotel  is  full  to 
the  garret.  Should  monsieur  le  comte,  then,  see  a  traveller  leaving 
my  door,  he  will  know  tliat  I  am  not  infringing  his  imp — his  orders, 
I  mean.     I  have  not  a  single  room  left. " 

"  Your  liotel  is  po]iular.  I  congratulate  you.  But  I  am  not  at  all 
surprised,  for  you  make  your  visitors  exceedingly  comfortable." 

"  A  tliousand  thanks,  monsieur  le  comte,  but  that  is  not  tlie  reason. 
I  have  never  been  so  thronged  before.  It  is  all  owing  to  the  honor 
conferred  upon  me  by  your — ,  I  mean,  by  monsieur  le  comte.  It 
will  be  a  heavy  disappointment  to  all  who  apply  to  hear  that  I  have 
no  room." 

*  "  M^nioires  de  Weber,"  vol.  i.,  p.  4R. — M6moires  de  Madame  de  Campan,  vol.  i., 
p.  127.— Hubner,  "  Life  of  Joseph  IL,"  page  142. 


THE  HOTEL  TURENNE.  441 

"Monsieur  Louis,"  said  the  emperor,  "you  are  mistaken.  There 
are  two  empty  rooms,  opening  into  mine. " 

"  But,  monsieur  le  comte,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  let  those 
rooms,  for  not  only  every  word  spoken  in  your  own  room  can  be 
overheard  there,  but  yourself  will  be  disturbed  by  hearing  all  that 
is  said  by  the  occupants.  You  see  that  these  rooms  cannot  be  occu- 
pied, monsieur  le  comte. " 

"I  see  nothing  of  the  sort, "  said  Joseph,  laughing.  "Not  only 
are  you  welcome  to  let  those  two  rooms,  but  1  request  you  to  do  so. 
Let  no  man  be  incommoded  on  my  account.  I  shall  know  how 
to  submit  to  the  inconvenience  which  may  be  entailed  upon  me." 

"Well,  he  certainly  is  the  most  condescending  and  humane  prince 
that  I  ever  heard  of,"  thought  Monsieur  Louis,  as  the  emperor's  car- 
riage drove  off.  "  And  one  thing  is  certain — I  shall  be  careful  whom 
I  give  him  for  neighbors.  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  what  the 
Count  de  Provence's  valet  says,  that  he  wants  to  take  Alsace  and 
Lorraine,  and  has  come  to  France  to  change  the  ministiy.  Tlie 
king's  brothers  are  not  over-fond  of  the  queen  nor  of  the  emperor ; 
but  the  people  love  them,  and  everybody  in  Paris  envies  me,  now 
that  I  have  the  great  emperor  as  my  guest. " 

And  Monsieur  Louis,  with  head  eret-t  and  hands  folded  behind 
him,  went  vip  and  down  his  entrance  hall,  enjoying  the  sunshine  of 
his  favor  with  princes. 

"I  do  wish  nobody  else  would  come  here, "  thought  he,  in  an 
ecstasy  of  disinterestedness.  "  Suppose  that  the  enemies  of  his  maj- 
esty should  introduce  a  murderer  in  my  house,  and  the  emperor 
should  lose  his  life  !  I  shoidd  be  eternally  disgraced.  I  am  really 
responsible  to  his  majesty's  subjects  for  his  safety.  I  am  resolved, 
since  he  has  commanded  me  to  let  these  rooms,  to  allow  none  but 
ladies  to  occupy  them. " 

Filled  with  enthusiasm  at  this  fortunate  idea,  the  host  walked  to 
the  door,  and  shook  his  fist  at  mankind  in  general — above  all  to  that 
segregate  of  the  male  species  who  might  happen  to  be  entertaining 
thoughts  of  lodging  at  the  Hotel  Turenne. 

Presently  a  tavelling-chariot  came  thundering  to  the  door.  Mon- 
sieur Louis  peered  with  his  keen,  black  eyes  into  the  vehicle,  and, 
to  his  great  relief,  saw  two  ladies. 

The  gentleman  who  accompanied  them  asked  to  be  accommodated 
with  two  rooms ;  and  the  host,  in  his  joy,  not  only  opened  the 
coach  door  himself,  but  took  the  huge  silver  candelabrum  from  the 
butler's  hand,  and  lighted  the  company  himself  to  their  apartments. 

As  they  reached  the  landing,  a  carriage  stopped  before  the  door, 
and  a  manly  voice  was  heard  in  the  vestibule  below. 

"  How  lucky  for  me  that  these  happened  to  be  women,  "  thought 
Monsieur  Louis,  "  for  there  is  the  emperor  already  returned  from  the 
theatre !" 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  anteroom,  and  his  guests  followed  him 
in  silence.  Not  a  word  had  been  spoken  by  either  of  the  ladies,  and 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  their  faces  through  the  thick  veils  which 
covered  them. 

"Do  the  ladies  require  supper?"  inquired  the  host. 

"  Certainly, "  replied  the  gentleman  whom  Monsieur  Louis  took 
to  be  the  husband  of  the  lady  who  had  seated  herself.  "  The  best  3'ou 
can  provide  ;  and  let  it  be  ready  in  quarter  of  an  hour. " 

"Will  madame  be  served  in  this  room?" 


443  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Yes;  and  see  that  we  have  plenty  of  light.  Above  all,  be 
quick." 

"  This  gentleman  is  very  curt, "  thought  the  host,  as  he  left  the 
room.  "What  if  he  should  entertain  evil  designs? — I  must  be  on 
my  guard. "  Then  returning,  he  added,  "  Pardon,  monsieur,  for  how 
many  will  supper  be  served?" 

The  stranger  cast  a  singular  glance  at  the  lady  in  the  arm-chair, 
and  said  in  a  loud  and  somewhat  startling  voice,  "  For  two  only. " 

"Right,"  thought  the  host,  "the  other  one  is  a  lady's  maid.  So 
much  the  worse.  They  are  people  of  quality,  and  all  that  tribe  hate 
the  emperor.     I  must  be  on  my  guard. " 

So  Monsieur  Louis  determined  to  warn  the  emperor  ;  but  first  he 
attended  to  his  professional  duties.  "  Supper  for  the  guests  just 
arrived  !"  cried  he  to  the  chief  butler.  "  Plenty  of  light  for  the 
chandeliers  and  candelabra  !  Let  the  cook  be  apprised  that  he  must 
be  ready  before  fifteen  minutes." 

Having  delivered  himself  of  these  orders,  the  host  hastened  to 
inform  the  emperor's  valet,  Giinther,  of  his  xmeasiness  and  sus- 
picions. 

Meanwhile,  the  gargons  were  going  hither  and  thither  preparing 
supper  for  the  strangers.  Scarcely  ten  minutes  had  elapsed  before 
the  first  course  was  upon  the  table,  and  the  butler,  with  a  bow, 
announced  the  supper. 

The  singular  pair  for  whom  these  costly  preparations  had  been 
made,  spoke  not  a  word  to  each  other.  The  lady,  motionless,  kept 
within  th3  privacy  of  her  veil ;  and  the  gentleman,  who  was  watch- 
ing the  waiters  with  an  ugly  frown,  looked  vexed  and  impatient. 

"Retire,  all  of  you,"  said  he,  imperiously.  "I  shall  have  the 
honor  of  waiting  on  madame  myself. " 

The  butler  bowed,  and,  with  his  well-bred  subordinates,  left  the 
room. 

"Now,  madame,"  said  the  stranger,  with  a  glance  of  dislike,  to 
the  lady's  maid,  "do  you  leave  the  room  also.  Go  and  attend  to 
your  own  wants.     Good-night." 

The  maid  made  no  reply,  but  remained  standing  in  the  window 
as  though  nothing  had  been  said. 

"  You  seem  not  to  hear, "  said  the  stranger.  "  I  order  you  to  leave 
this  room,  and,  furthermore,  I  order  you  to  return  to  your  place  as  a 
servant,  and  not  to  show  yourself  here  in  any  other  capacity.  Go, 
and  heed  my  words  !" 

The  lady's-maid  smiled  derisively  and  replied,  "Count,  I  await 
my  lady's  orders." 

The  veiled  lady  then  spoke.  "Gratify  the  count,  my  good 
Dupont, "  said  she,  kindly.  "  I  do  not  need  you  to-night.  Let  the 
host  provide  you  with  a  comfortable  room,  and  go  to  rest.  You 
must  be  exhausted. " 

"  At  last,  at  last  we  are  alone, "  exclaimed  the  count  as  the  door 
closed  upon  his  enemy,  the  lady's  maid. 

"Yes,  we  are  alone,"  repeated  the  lady,  and,  throwing  off  her 
wrappings,  the  tall  and  elegant  form  of  the  Countess  Esterhazy  was 
disclosed  to  view. 


THE  DfiNOUEMENT.  443 

CHAPTER    CXIV. 

THE     DENOUEMENT. 

For  a  moment  they  confronted  each  other  ;  then  Count  Schulen- 
berg,  with  open  arms,  advanced  toward  the  countess. 

"Now,  Margaret, "  cried  he,  "you  are  mine.  I  have  earned  this 
victory  by  my  superhuman  patience.  It  is  achieved — I  am  rewarded 
— come  to  my  longing  heart !" 

He  would  have  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  but  she  stepped  back,  and 
again,  as  in  her  dressing-room  at  Vienna,  her  hands  were  raised  to 
ward  him  off.  "  Do  not  touch  me, "  said  she,  with  a  look  of  supreme 
aversion.  "Come  no  nearer.  Count  Schulenberg,  for  your  breath  is 
poison,  and  the  atmosphere  of  your  proximity  is  stifling  me." 

The  count  laughed.  "  My  beautiful  Margaret,  you  seek  in  vain 
to  discourage  me  by  your  charming  sarcasm.  Oh,  my  lovely,  un- 
tamed angel,  away  with  your  coldness !  it  inflames  my  passion  so 
much  the  more.  I  would  not  give  up  the  triumph  of  this  hour  for  a 
kingdom  !" 

"  It  will  yield  you  nothing  nevertheless,  save  my  contempt.  You 
must  i-enounce  your  dream  of  happiness,  for  I  assure  you  that  it  has 
been  but  a  dream. " 

"You  jest  still,  my  Margaret,"  replied  the  count,  with  a  forced 
laugh.  "But  I  tell  you  that  I  intend  to  tame  my  wild  doe  into  a 
submissive  woman,  who  loves  her  master  and  obeys  his  call.  Away 
with  this  mask  of  reluctance !  You  love  me;  for  you  have  given 
me  the  proof  of  your  love  by  leaving  kindred  and  honor  to  follow  me. " 

"Nay,  count.  I  have  given  you  a  proof  of  my  contempt,  for  I 
have  deliberately  used  you  as  a  tool.  You,  the  handsome  and  ad- 
mired Count  Schulenberg — you  who  fancied  you  were  throwing  me 
the  handkerchief  of  your  favor,  you  are  nothing  to  me  but  the  con- 
venient implement  of  my  revenge.  You  came  hither  as  my  valet, 
and  as  I  no  longer  need  a  valet,  I  discharge  you.  You  have  served 
me  well,  and  I  thank  you.  You  have  done  admirably,  for  Dupont 
told  me  to-day  that  you  had  not  yet  exhausted  the  money  I  gave 
you  for  the  expenses  of  our  journey.  I  am,  therefore,  highly  satis- 
fied with  you,  and  will  recommend  you  to  any  other  woman  desirous 
of  bringing  disgrace  upon  her  husband." 

The  count  stared  at  her  in  perfect  wonder.  He  smiled,  too — but 
the  smile  was  sinister  and  threatened  evil. 

"How!"  said  the  countess.  "You  are  not  yet  gone!  True — I 
forgot — a  lady  has  no  right  to  discharge  her  valet  without  paying 
him. " 

With  these  words  she  drew  a  purse  from  her  pocket  and  threw  it 
at  his  feet. 

A  loud  grating  lavigh  was  the  reply.  He  set  his  foot  upon  the 
purse,  and  folding  his  arms,  contemplated  the  covmtess  with  a  look 
that  boded  no  good  to  his  tormentor. 

"You  do  not  go.  Count  Schulenberg?"  said  she. 

"No — and  what  is  more,  I  do  not  intend  to  go." 

"Ah  !"  cried  Margaret,  her  eyes  glowing  like  coals,  "you  are  dis- 
honorable enough  to  persist,  when  I  have  told  you  that  I  despise 
you !" 

"  My  charming  Margaret,  this  is  a  way  that  women  have  of  be- 


444  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

traying  their  love.  You  all  swear  that  you  despise  us  ;  all  the  while 
loving  us  to  distraction.  You  and  I  have  gone  too  far  to  recede. 
You,  because  you  allowed  me  to  take  you  from  your  husband's 
house ;  I,  because  I  gave  in  to  your  rather  exacting  whims,  and 
came  to  Paris  as  your  valet.  But  you  promised  to  reward  me,  and  I 
must  receive  my  wages. " 

"I  promised  when  we  should  reach  Paris  to  speak  the  truth. 
Count  Schulenberg  ;  and  as  you  are  not  satisfied  with  as  much  as  I 
have  vouchsafed,  hear  the  whole  truth.  You  say  that  in  consenting 
to  accompany  you,  I  gave  a  proof  of  love.  Think  better  of  me,  sir  ! 
Had  I  loved  you,  I  might  have  died  for  you,  but  never  would  I  have 
"allowed  you  to  be  the  partner  of  my  disgrace.  You  have  shared  it 
with  me  precisely  because  I  despise  you,  precisely  because  there  was 
no  man  on  earth  whom  I  was  less  likely  to  love.  As  the  partner  of  my 
flight,  you  have  freed  me  from  the  shackles  of  a  detested  union,  to 
rupture  which,  I  underwent  the  farce  of  an  elopement.  The  tj'ranny 
of  Maria  Theresa  had  compelled  me  to  marriage  with  a  wretch  who 
succeeded  in  beguiling  me  to  the  altar  by  a  lie.  I  swore  to  revenge 
myself,  and  you  have  been  the  instrument  of  my  revenge.  The 
woman  who  could  condescend  to  leave  her  home  with  you,  is  so 
doubly-dyed  in  disgrace  that  Count  Esterhazy  can  no  longer  refuse 
to  grant  her  a  divorce.  And  now,  count,  that  I  have  concealed 
notlaing,  oblige  me  by  leaving  me — I  need  repose." 

"No,  my  bewitching  Margaret,  a  thousand  times  no!"  replied 
the  count.  "  But  since  you  have  been  so  candid,  I  shall  imitate  your 
charming  frankness.  Your  beauty,  certainly,  is  quite  enough  to 
madden  a  man,  and  embolden  him  to  woo  you,  since  all  Vienna 
knows  how  the  Countess  Esterhazy  hates  her  husband.  But  you 
seemed  colder  to  me  than  you  were  to  other  men,  all  of  whom  com- 
plained that  you  had  no  heart  to  win.  I  swore  not  to  be  foiled  by 
your  severity,  and  thereupon  my  friends  staked  a  large  wager  upon 
the  result.  Fired  by  these  united  considerations,  I  entered  upon  my 
suit  and  was  successful.  You  gave  me  very  little  trouble,  I  must 
say  that  for  you,  countess.  Thanks  to  your  clemency,  I  have  won 
my  bet,  and  on  my  return  to  Vienna,  I  am  to  receive  one  thousand 
louis  d'ors. " 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,  and  I  advise  you  to  go  after  them 
with  all  speed, "  replied  the  countess  quietly. 

"  Pardon  me  if  I  reject  the  advice — for,  as  I  told  you  before,  I 
really  love  you.  You  have  thrown  yourself  into  my  arms,  and  I 
would  be  a  fool  not  to  keep  you  there.  No,  my  enchantress,  no ! 
Give  up  all  hope  of  escaping  from  the  fate  you  have  chosen  for  your- 
self. I 'or  my  sake  you  have  branded  your  fair  fame  forever,  and  you 
shall  be  rewarded  for  the  sacrifice." 

"Wretch,"  cried  she,  drawing  herself  proudly  up  to  her  full 
hciglit,  "you  well  know  that  you  had  no  share  in  tlie  motives  of  the 
tlight !  Its  sliame  is  mine  alone  ;  and  alone  will  I  bear  it.  To  you 
I  leave  the  ridicule  of  our  adventiu-e,  for  if  you  do  not  quit  my 
room,  I  shall  take  care  tliat  all  Vienna  hears  how  I  took  you  to 
Paris  as  my  valet. " 

"And  I,  Countess  Esterhazy,  shall  entertain  all  Vienna  with  the 
contents  of  your  album,  wliicli  I  have  taken  the  liberty  not  only  of 
reading,  but  of  appropriating. " 

The  countess  gave  a  start.  "True,"  murmured  she,  "I  have 
missed  it  since  yesterday. " 


THE  PARTING.  445 

"Yes,  and  I  have  it.  I  think  a  lover  has  a  right  to  his  mistress's 
secrets,  and  I  have  made  use  of  my  right.  I  have  been  reading  your 
heavenly  verses  to  the  object  of  your  unhappy  attachment,  and  all 
Vienna  shall  hear  them.  What  delicious  scandal  it  will  be  to  tell 
how  desperately  in  love  is  the  Countess  Esterhazy  with  the  son  of 
her  gracious  and  imperial  godmother  !" 

"  Tell  it  then, "  cried  Margaret,  "  tell  it  if  you  will,  for  I  do  love 
the  emperor  1  My  heart  bows  down  before  him  in  idolatrous  admira- 
tion, and  if  he  loved  me,  I  would  not  envy  the  angels  their  heaven  ! 
He  does  not  return  my  love — nor  do  I  need  that  return  to  make  me 
cherish  and  foster  my  passion  for  him.  No  scorn  of  the  world  can 
lessen  it,  for  it  is  my  pride,  my  religion,  my  life  !  And  now  go  and 
repeat  my  words  ;  but  beware  of  me,  Count  Schulenberg,  for  I  will 
have  revenge !" 

"  From  such  fair  hands,  revenge  would  fall  quite  "harmless, "  ex- 
claimed the  count,  dazzled  by  the  splendor  of  Margaret's  transcend- 
ent beauty  ;  for  never  in  her  life  had  she  looked  lovelier  than  at  that 
moment.  "  Revenge  yourself  if  you  will,  enchantress,  but  mine  you 
are  doomed  to  be.     Come,  then,  come  !" 

Once  more  he  approached,  when  the  door  was  flung  violently 
open,  and  a  loud,  commanding  voice  was  heard  : 

"I  forbid  you  to  lay  a  finger  upon  the  Countess  Esterhazy,"  ex- 
claimed the  emperor. 

Margaret  uttered  a  loud  cry,  the  color  forsook  her  cheeks,  and 
closing  her  eyes  she  fell  back  upon  the  sofa. 


CHAPTER    CXV. 

THE  PARTING. 

The  emperor  hastened  to  her  assistance,  but  finding  her  totally 
insensible,  he  laid  her  gently  down  again. 

"She  is  unconscious,"  said  he;  "kind  Nature  has  lulled  her  to 
insensibility — she  will  recover."  Then  taking  the  veil  from  the 
countess's  hat,  he  covered  her  face,  and  turned  toward  the  terrified 
count,  who,  trembling  in  every  limb,  was  powerless  to  save  himself 
by  flight. 

"Give  me  the  countess's  album!"  said  the  emperor  sternly. 
Count  Schulenberg  drew  it  mechanically  forth,  and,  with  tottering 
steps,  advanced  and  fell  at  the  emperor's  feet. 

Joseph  tore  the  book  from  his  hands,  and  laid  it  on  the  sofa  by 
the  countess.  Then  I'eturning,  he  cried  out  in  a  tone  of  indignation, 
"  Rise  !  You  have  behaved  toward  this  woman  like  a  dishonorable 
wretch,  and  you  are  unworthy  the  name  of  nobleman.  You  shall 
be  punished  for  your  crimes.  " 

"Mercy,  sire,  mercy,"  faltered  the  coimt.  "Mercy  for  a  fault 
which — " 

"Peace!"  interrupted  Joseph.  "The  empress  has  already  sent  a 
courier  to  order  your  arrest.  Do  you  know  what  is  the  punishment 
in  Austria  for  a  man  who  flies  with  a  married  woman  from  the 
house  of  her  husband?" 

"  The  punishment  of  death, "  murmured  the  count  inaudibly. 

"  Yes,  for  it  is  a  crime  that  equals  murder, "  returned  the  em- 


446  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

peror ;  "  indeed,  it  transcends  murder,  for  it  loses  the  soul  of  the 
unhappy  woman,  and  brands  her  husband  with  infamy. " 

"Mercy,  mercy  !"  prayed  the  wretch. 

"  No, "  said  Joseph  sternly,  "  you  deserve  no  mercy.     Follow  me. " 

The  emperor  returned  to  his  own  room,  and  opening  the  door  that 
led  to  the  anteroom  he  called  Giinther. 

When  the  valet  appeared,  Joseph  pointed  to  the  coimt,  who  was 
advancing  slowly,  and  now  stopped  without  daring  to  raise  his  head. 

"  Giinther, "  said  the  emperor,  "  I  give  this  man  in  charge  to  you. 
I  might  retiuire  him  on  his  honor  not  to  leave  this  room  until  I 
return ;  but  no  man  can  pledge  that  which  he  does  not  possess ;  I 
must,  therefore,  leave  him  to  you.  See  that  he  does  not  make  his 
escape. " 

The  emperor  then  recrossed  his  own  room,  and  closing  the  door 
behind  him,  entered  the  apartment  of  the  countess.  She  had  re- 
vived ;  and  was  looking  around  with  an  absent,  dreamy  expression. 

"  I  have  been  sleeping, "  murmured  she.  "  I  saw  the  emperor,  I 
felt  his  arm  around  me,  I  dreamed  that  he  was  bending  over  me — " 

"  It  was  no  dream.  Countess  Esterhazy, "  said  Joseph  softly. 

She  started,  and  rose  from  the  sofa,  her  whole  frame  tremulous 
with  emotion.  Her  large,  glowing  eyes  seemed  to  be  searching  for 
the  object  of  her  terror,  and  then  her  glance  rested  with  inexpressible 
fear  upon  the  door  which  led  into  the  emperor's  room. 

"You  were  there,  sire,  and  heard  all — all?"  stammered  she, 
pointing  with  her  hand. 

"  Yes — God  be  praised,  I  was  there,  and  I  am  now  acquainted 
with  the  motives  which  prompted  your  flight  from  Count  Esterhazy. 
I  undertake  your  defence,  countess  ;  my  voice  shall  silence  your  ac- 
cusers in  Vienna,  and  if  it  becomes  necessary  to  your  justification,  I 
will  relate  wliat  I  have  overheard.  I  cannot  blame  you,  for  I  know 
the  unspeakable  misery  of  a  marriage  without  love,  and  I  compre- 
hend that,  to  break  its  fetters,  you  were  ready  to  brave  disgrace,  and 
to  wear  upon  your  spotless  brow  the  badge  of  dishonor  The  em- 
press must  know  what  you  have  undergone,  and  she  shall  reinstate 
you  in  the  world's  estimation;  for  she  it  is  who  has  caused  your 
unhappiness.  My  mother  is  too  magnanimous  to  refuse  reparation 
where  she  has  erred. " 

"  Sire, "  whispered  the  countess,  while  a  deep  blush  overspread  her 
face,  "do  you  mean  to  confide  all — all  to  the  empress?" 

"All  that  concerns  your  relations  with  your  husband  and  with 
Count  Schulenberg.  Pardon  me  that  I  overheard  the  sweet  confession 
which  was  wrung  from  you  by  despair  !  Never  will  I  betray  it  to 
living  mortal ;  it  shall  be  treasured  in  the  depths  of  my  heart,  and 
sometimes  at  midnight  hour  I  may  be  permitted  to  remember  it ! — 
Come  back  to  Vienna,  countess,  and  let  us  seek  to  console  each  other 
for  the  agony  of  the  past !" 

"  No,  sire, "  said  she  mournfully,  "  I  shall  never  return  to  Vienna ; 
I  should  be  ashamed  to  meet  your  majesty's  eye." 

"Have  you  grown  so  faint-hearted?"  said  the  emperor,  gently. 
"Are  you  suddenly  ashamed  of  a  feeling  which  you  so  nobly  avowed 
but  a  few  moments  since?  Or  am  I  the  only  man  on  earth  who  is 
unworthy  to  know  it?" 

"Sire,  the  judgment  of  tlie  world  is  nothing  to  me;  it  is  from 
your  contempt  that  I  would  fly  and  be  forgotten.  Let  other  men 
judge  me  as  they  will — I  care  not.     But  oh  !  I  know  that  you  despise 


THE  PARTING.  447 

me,  and    that  knowledge  is  breaking  my  heart.     Farewell,  then, 
forever !" 

The  emperor  contemplated  her  with  mournful  sympathy,  and  took 
both  her  hands  in  his.  She  pressed  them  to  her  lips,  and  when  she 
raised  her  head,  her  timidity  had  given  place  to  sti-ong  resolution. 

"I  shall  never  see  your  majesty  again, "said  she,  "but  your 
image  will  be  with  me  wherever  I  go.  I  hope  for  great  deeds  from 
you,  and  I  know  that  you  will  not  deceive  me,  sire.  When  all 
Europe  resounds  with  your  fame,  then  shall  I  be  happy,  for  my  being 
is  merged  in  yours.  At  this  moment,  when  we  part  to  meet  no 
more,  I  say  again  with  joyful  courage,  I  love  you.  May  the  bless- 
ing of  that  love  rest  upon  jour  noble  head  !  Give  me  your  hand  once 
more,  and  then  leave  me. " 

"  Farewell,  Margaret, "  faltered  the  emperor,  intoxicated  by  her 
tender  avowal,  and  opening  his  arms,  he  added  in  passionate  tones, 
"  Come  to  my  heart,  and  let  me,  for  Qne  blissful  moment,  feel  the 
beatings  of  yours  !    Come,  oh,  come  !" 

Margaret  leaned  her  head  upon  his  shoulder  and  wept,  while  the 
emperor  besought  her  to  relent  and  return  to  Vienna  with  him. 

•'No,  sire,"  replied  she,  firmly.     "Farewell!" 

He  echoed  "farewell,"  and  hastily  left  the  room. 

When  the  door  had  closed  upon  him,  the  countess  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands  and  sobbed  aloud.  But  this  was  for  a  moment 
only. 

Her  pale  face  resumed  its  haughty  expression  as  she  rose  from 
her  seat  and  hastily  pulled  the  bell-rope.  A  few  minutes  later,  she 
unbolted  the  door,  and  Madame  Dupont  entered  the  room. 

"My  good  friend,"  said  the  countess,  "we  leave  Paris  to-night." 

"Alone?"  asked  the  maid,  looking  around. 

"Yes  ;  rejoice  with  me,  we  are  rid  of  him  forever.  But  we  must 
leave  this  place  at  once.     Go  and  order  post-horses. " 

"But,  dear  lady,  whither  do  we  journey  V" 

"Whither?"  echoed  Margaret,  thoughtfully.  "  Let  the  will  of  God 
decide.     Who  can  say  whence  we  come,  or  whither  we  go?" 

The  faitliful  servant  hastened  to  her  mistress,  and  taking  the 
hand  of  the  countess  in  hers,  pressed  it  to  her  lips.  "  Oh,  my  lady, " 
said  she,  "shake  off  this  lethargy  — be  your  own  brave  self 
again." 

"  You  are  right,  Dupont, "  returned  Margaret,  shaking  back  her 
long  black  hair,  which  had  become  imfastened  and  fell  almost  to  her 
feet,  "  I  must  control  my  grief  that  I  may  act  for  myself.  From  tliis 
day  I  am  without  protector,  kindred,  or  home.  Let  us  journey  to 
the  Holy  Land,  Dupont.  Perhaps  I  may  find  consolation  by  the 
grave  of  the  Saviour. " 

One  hour  later,  the  emperor,  sitting  at  his  window,  heard  a  car- 
riage leave  the  Hotel  Turenne.  He  followed  the  sound  imtil  it  was 
lost  in  the  distance ;  for  well  he  knew  that  the  occupant  of  that 
coach  was  the  beautiful  and  unfortunate  Countess  Esterhazy. 

Early  on  the  following  morning,  another  caiTiage  with  blinds 
drawn  up,  left  the  hotel.  It  stopped  before  the  Austrian  embassy, 
and  the  valet  of  the  emperor  sprang  out.  He  signified  to  the  porter 
that  he  was  to  keep  a  sti-ict  watch  over  the  gentleman  within,  and 
then  sought  the  presence  of  the  Count  von  Mercy. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  went  by,  during  which  the  porter  had  been 
peering  curiously  at  the  pale  face  which  was  staring  at  the  windows 


448  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

of  the  hotel.  Presently  a  secretary  and  a  servant  of  the  ambassador 
came  out  equipped  for  a  journey.  The  secretary  entered  the  car- 
riage ;  the  servant  mounted  the  box,  and  Count  Schulenberg  was 
transported  a  prisoner  to  Vienna.  * 


CHAPTER    CXVI. 

JOSEPH   AND   LOUIS. 

The  emperor  was  right  when  he  said  that  his  sister  would  derive 
little  pleasure  from  his  visit  to  Paris.  Her  happiness  in  his  society 
had  been  of  short  duration  ;  for  she  could  not  be  but  sensible  of  the 
growing  dislike  of  the  king  for  his  imperial  brother-in-law.  Josej^h's 
easy  and  graceful  manners  were  in  humiliating  contrast  to  the  stiff 
and  awkward  bearing  of  Loms  ;  and  finally,  Marie  Antoinette  felt 
many  a  pang  as  she  watched  the  glances  of  aversion  which  her  hus- 
band cast  upon  her  brother,  at  such  times  as  the  latter  made  light  of 
the  thousand  and  one  ceremonies  which  were  held  so  sacred  by  the 
royal  family  of  France. 

The  king,  who  in  his  heart  had  been  sorely  galled  by  the  fetters 
of  French  etiquette,  now  that  the  emperor  ridiculed  it,  became  its 
warmest  partisan  ;  and  went  so  far  as  to  reprove  his  wife  for  follow- 
ing her  brother's  example,  and  sacrificing  her  royal  dignity  to  an 
absurd  longing  for  popularity. 

The  truth  was,  that  Louis  was  envious  of  the  enthusiasm  which 
Joseph  excited  among  the  Parisians ;  and  his  brothers,  the  other 
members  of  the  royal  family,  and  his  ministers,  took  every  oppor- 
tunity of  feeding  his  envy,  by  representing  that  the  emperor  was 
doing  his  utmost  to  alienate  the  afl'ections  of  the  French  from  their 
rightful  sovereign  ;  that  he  was  meditating  the  seizure  of  Alsace  and 
Lorraine  ;  that  he  was  seeking  to  reinstate  De  Choiseul,  and  convert 
France  into  a  mere  dependency  upon  Austria. 

Louis,  who  had  begun  to  regard  his  wife  with  passionate  admira- 
tion, became  cold  and  sarcastic  in  his  demeanor  toward  her.  The 
hours  which,  until  the  emperor's  arrival  in  Paris,  he  had  spent  with 
Marie  Antoinette,  were  now  dedicated  to  his  ministers,  to  Madame 
Adelaide,  and  even  to  the  Count  de  Provence — that  brother  whose 
enmity  to  the  queen  was  not  even  concealed  under  a  veil  of  courtly 
dissimulation. 

Not  satisfied  with  filling  the  king's  ears  with  calumnies  of  his 
poor  young  wife,  the  Count  de  Provence  was  the  instigator  of  all 
those  scandalous  songs,  in  which  the  emperor  and  the  queen  were 
daily  ridiculed  on  the  Pout-Neuf  ;  and  of  the  multifarious  carica- 
tures which,  hour  by  hour,  were  rendering  Marie  Antoinette  odious 
in  the  eyes  of  her  subjects.  The  Count  de  Provence,  who  afterward 
wore  his  murdered  brother's  crown,  was  the  first  to  teach  the  French 
nation  that  odiouus  epithet  of  "  l' AuMchie^me,"  with  which  they 
hooted  the  Queen  of  France  to  an  ignominious  death  upon  the 
scaffold. 

The  momentary  joy  which  the  visit  of  the  emperor  had  caused  to 

*  Count  SclnilenhtTfj  was  sentenced  to  deatli  ;  and  Maria  Theresa,  who  was  inex- 
oralde  where  a  lireaeh  of  morals  was  concerned,  approved  the  .sentence.  But  Count 
Ksterhazy  liastened  to  intercede  for  }iis  rival,  acknowledging  at  last  that  Schulenberg 
had  freed  hiiu  from  a  tie  which  was  a  ciu'se  to  liiui. 


JOSEPH  AND  LOUIS.  449 

his  sister  had  vanished,  and  given  place  to  embarrassment  and  anx- 
iety of  heart.  Even  she  felt  vexed,  not  only  that  her  subjects  pre- 
ferred a  foreign  prince  to  their  own  rightful  sovereign,  but  that 
Joseph  was  so  unrestrained  in  his  sarcasms  upon  royal  customs  in 
France.  Finally  she  was  obliged  to  confess  in  the  silence  of  her  own 
heart,  that  her  brother's  departure  would  be  a  relief  to  her,  and  that 
these  dinners  en  faviille,  to  which  he  came  daily  as  a  guest,  were 
inexpressibly  tedious  and  heavy. 

One  day  the  emperor  came  earlier  than  usual  to  dinner — so  early, 
in  fact,  that  the  king  was  still  occupied  holding  his  daily  levee. 

Joseph  seated  himself  quietly  in  the  anteroom  to  await  his  turn. 
At  first  no  one  had  remarked  his  entrance ;  but  presently  he  was 
recognized  by  one  of  the  marshals  of  tlie  household,  who  hastened 
to  his  side,  and,  apologizing,  offered  to  inform  the  king  at  once  of 
Count  Falkenstein's  presence  there. 

"  By  no  means, "  returned  the  emperor,  "  I  am  quite  accustomed 
to  this  sort  of  thing.  I  do  it  every  morning  in  my  mother's  ante- 
room at  Vienna."  * 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  the  king,  who  had  been  apprised 
of  the  emperor's  arrival,  came  forward  to  greet  him. 

"We  were  not  aware  that  we  had  so  distinguished  a  guest  in  our 
anteroom,"  said  Louis,  bowing.  "But  come,  my  brother,"  contin- 
ued he  cordially,  "  the  weather  is  beautiful.  Let  us  stroll  together  in 
the  gardens.     Give  me  your  arm. " 

But  Joseph,  pointing  to  the  crowd,  replied,  "Pardon  me,  your 
majesty,  it  is  not  yet  my  turn  ;  and  I  should  be  sorry  to  interrupt 
you  in  your  duties  as  sovereign." 

Louis  frowned ;  and  all  traces  of  cordiality  vanished  from  his 
face.  "I  will  receive  tnese  gentlemen  to-morrow,"  said  he,  with  a 
slight  nod  to  his  courtiers  ;  and  they,  comprehending  that  they  were 
dismissed,  took  their  leave. 

"  Now,  count, "  pursued  the  king,  trying  to  smile,  but  scarcely 
succeeding  in  doing  so,  "we  are  at  liberty. " 

So  saying,  he  bowed,  but  did  not  repeat  the  offer  of  his  arm  ;  he 
walked  by  the  emperor's  side.  The  usher  threw  open  the  doors,  cry- 
ing out  in  a  loud  voice  : 

"  The  king  is  about  to  take  a  walk  !" 

"The  king  is  about  to  take  a  walk,"  was  echoed  from  point  to 
point ;  and  now  from  every  side  of  the  palace  came  courtiers  and 
gentlemen  in  waiting,  to  attend  their  sovereign  ;  while  outside  on 
the  terrace  the  blast  of  trumpets  was  heard,  so  that  everybody  in 
Versailles  was  made  aware  that  the  king  was  about  to  take  a  turn  in 
his  gardens,  and  his  anxious  subjects,  if  so  disposed,  might  pray  for 
his  safe  return. 

The  emperor  looked  on  and  listened  with  an  amused  smile,  highly 
diverted  at  the  avalanche  of  courtiers  that  came  rushing  on  them 
from  corridor  and  staircase.  Meanwhile  the  sovereigns  pursued 
their  wav  in  solemn  silence  until  the  brilliant  throng  had  descended 
the  marble  stairs  that  led  from  the  terrace  to  the  gardens.  Then 
came  another  fiourisli  of  trumpets,  one  hundred  Swiss  saluted  the 
king,  and  twelve  gardes  de  corps  advanced  to  take  their  places  close 
to  the  royal  promeuaders. 

"  Sire', "  asked  Joseph,  stopping,  "  are  all  these  people  to  accom- 
pany us?" 

*M4moires  de  Weber,  vol.  i.,  p.  48. 


450  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Certainly,  count,"  replied  Louis,  "this  attendance  upon  me 
when  I  walk  is  prescribed  by  court  etiquette. " 

"  My  dear  brother,  allow  me  to  state  that  it  gives  us  much  more 
the  appearance  of  state  prisoners  than  of  free  sovereigns  enjoying  the 
fresh  air.  In  the  presence  of  God  let  us  be  simple  men— our  hearts 
will  be  more  apt  to  be  elevated  by  the  sight  of  the  beauties  of  nature, 
than  if  we  go  siuTounded  by  all  this 'iiomp  and  circumstance'  of 
royalty. " 

"You  -wish  to  go  without  attendants?"  asked  Louis. 

"  I  ask  of  your  majesty  as  a  favor  to  let  me  act  as  a  body-guard  to 
the  King  of  France  to-day.  I  promise  to  serve  him  faithfully  in  that 
capacity — moreover,  have  we  not  this  brilliant  suite  of  noblemen  to 
defend  us  in  case  of  danger?" 

The  king  made  no  reply.  He  merely  turned  to  the  captain  of  the 
Swiss  guard  to  inform  him  that  their  majesties  would  dispense  with 
military  escort.  The  officer  was  so  astounded  that  he  actually  forgot 
to  make  his  salute. 

At  the  gate  of  the  park  the  king  also  dismissed  the  gardes  de 
corps.  These  were  quite  as  astonished  as  the  Swiss  had  been  before 
them  ;  for  never  until  that  day  had  a  King  of  France  taken  a  walk 
in  his  gardens  without  one  hundred  Swiss  and  twelve  body-guards.* 


CHAPTER    CXVII, 
THE  PROMENADE  AND  THE  EPIGRAM. 

The  royal  brothers-in-law  then  were  allowed  to  promenade  alone  ; 
that  is  to  say,  they  were  attended  by  twenty  courtiers,  whose  in- 
estimable privilege  it  was  to  follow  the  king  wherever  he  went. 

"  It  is  not  then  the  custom  in  Austria  for  princes  to  appear  in 
public  with  their  escort?"  asked  the  king,  after  a  long  pause. 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  have  our  body-guards,  but  they  are  the  people  them- 
selves, and  we  feel  perfectly  secure  in  their  escort.  You  should  try 
this  body-guard,  sire  ;  it  is  more  economical  than  yours,  for  its 
service  is  rendered  for  pure  love." 

"  Certainly, "  replied  the  king  carelessly,  "  it  is  a  very  cheap  way 
of  courting  popularity  ;  but  the  price  would  be  too  dear  for  a  king  of 
France  to  pay — he  cannot  afford  to  sell  his  dignity  for  such  small 
return." 

The  emperor  raised  his  large  blue  eyes,  and  looked  full  in  the 
king's  face.  "Do  you  really  think,"  he  said,  "that  a  king  compro- 
mises his  dignity  by  contact  with  his  subjects?  Do  you  think  that 
to  be  honored  by  your  people  you  must  be  forever  reminding  them 
of  your 'right  divine?'  I,  on  the  contrary,  believe  that  the  sover- 
eign who  shows  liimself  to  be  a  man,  is  the  one  who  will  be  most 
sincerely  loved  by  the  men  whom  he  governs.  We  are  apt  to  become 
dazzled  by  the  glare  of  flattery,  sire,  and  it  is  well  for  us  sometimes 
to  throw  off  our  grandeur,  and  mix  among  our  fellows.  There  we 
will  soon  find  out  that  majesty  is  not  written  upon  the  face  of  kings, 
but  resides  in  the  purple  which  is  the  work  of  the  tailor,  and  the 
crown,  which  is  that  of  the  goldsmith.  I  learned  this  not  long  ago 
from  a  shoemaker's  apprentice." 

"From    a    shoemaker's  apprentice!"  exclaimed  Louis,  with   a 

*Hubuer,  i.,  p.  148. 


THE  PROMENADE  AND  THE  EPIGRAM.  451 

supercilious  smile.  "It  would  be  highly  edifying  to.hear  from  the 
Count  of  Falkenstein  how  it  happened  that  the  Emperor  of  Austria 
was  taught  the  nothingness  of  royalty  by  a  shoemaker's  lad  !" 

"It  came  quite  naturally,  sire.  I  was  out  driving  in  a  plain 
cdbHolet,  when  I  remarked  the  boy,  who  was  singing,  and  otherwise 
exercising  his  animal  spirits  by  hopping,  dancing,  and  running 
along  the  road  by  the  side  of  the  Tehicle.  I  was  much  diverted  by 
his  drollery,  and  finally  invited  him  to  take  a  drive  with  me.  He 
jumped  in  without  awaiting  a  second  invitation,  stared  wonderfully 
at  me  with  his  great  brown  eyes,  and  in  high  satisfaction  kicked  his 
feet  againt  the  dash-board,  and  watched  the  motion  of  the  wheels. 
Now  and  then  he  vented  his  delight  by  a  broad  smile,  in  which  I 
could  detect  no  trace  of  a  suspicion  as  to  my  rank  of  majesty. 
Finally  I  resolved  to  find  out  what  place  I  occupied  in  the  estimation 
of  an  unfledged  shoemaker  ;  so  I  questioned  him  on  the  subject.  He 
contemplated  me  for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  '  Perhaps  you  might 
be  an  equerry?' — 'Guess  higher,'  replied  I. — 'Well,  a  coxmt?' — I 
shook  my  head.  'Still  higher.' — 'A  prince'/' — 'Higher  yet.' — 
'Well,  then,  you  must  be  the  emperor. ' — 'You  have  guessed, '  said 
I.  Instead  of  being  overcome  by  the  communication,  the  boy  sprang 
from  the  cabriolet,  and  pointing  at  me  with  a  little  finger  that  was 
full  of  scorn  and  dirt,  he  cried  out  to  the  passers-by,  '  Only  look  at 
him  !  he  is  trying  to  pass  himself  off  for  the  emperor. '  "  * 

Louis  had  listened  to  this  recital  with  grave  composure,  and  as 
his  face  had  not  once  relaxed  from  its  solemnity,  the  faces  of  his 
courtiers  all  wore  a  similar  expression.  As  Joseph  looked  around, 
he  saw  a  row  of  blank  countenances. 

There  was  an  awkward  pause.  Finally  the  king  observed  that  he 
could  not  see  any  thing  diverting  in  the  insolence  of  the  boy. 

"I  assure  your  majesty,"  replied  the  emperor,  "that  it  was  far 
more  pleasing  to  me  than  the  subservience  of  a  multitude  of  fawning 
courtiers. "  He  glanced  sharply  at  the  gentlemen  of  their  suite,  who 
knit  their  brows  in  return. 

"Let  us  quicken  our  pace  if  it  be  agreeable  to  you,  count,"  said 
Louis,  with  some  embarrassment.  The  attendants  fell  back,  and 
the  two  monarchs  walked  on  for  some  moments  in  silence.  The 
king  was  wondering  how  he  should  manage  to  renew  the  conversa- 
tion, when  suddenly,  his  voice,  tremulous  with  emotion,  Joseph 
addressed  him. 

"  My  brother, "  said  he,  "  accident  at  last  has  favored  me,  and  I 
may  speak  to  you  for  once  without  witnesses.  Tell  me,  then,  why 
do  you  hate  me?" 

"  My  brother, "  exclaimed  Louis,  "  who  has  dared—" 

"  No  one  has  intimated  such  a  thing, "  returned  Joseph,  ve- 
hemently;  "but  I  see  it,  I  feel  it  in  every  look  of  your  majesty's 
eyes,  every  word  that  falls  from  your  lips.  Again,  I  ask  why  do 
you  hate  me?  I  who  came  hither  to  visit  you  as  friend  and 
brother !  Or  do  you  believe  the  idle  rumors  of  your  courtiers,  that 
I  came  to  rob  aught  besides  the  heart  of  the  King  of  France  ?  I  know 
that  I  have  been  represented  as  unscrvipulous  in  my  ambition,  but  I 
entreat  of  you,  dear  brother,  think  better  of  me.  I  will  be  frank 
with  you  and  confess  that  I  do  seek  for  aggrandizement,  but  not  at 
the  expense  of  my  allies  or  friends.  I  strive  to  enlarge  my  territory, 
but  I  shall  claim  nothing  that  is  not  righteously  my  own.  There 
* '  -Characteristics  and  Anecdotes  of  Joseph  II.  and  his  Times,"  p.  105. 


452  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

are  provinces  in  Germany  which  are  mine  by  right  of  inheritance, 
otliers  by  the  right  whicli  Frederick  used  wlien  he  took  Silesia  from 
tlie  crown  of  Avistria. " 

"  Or  that  wliich  Joseph  used  when  he  took  Galicia  from  tlie  King 
of  Poland, "  interrupted  Louis,  significantly. 

"Sire,  we  did  not  take  Galicia.  It  fell  to  us  through  the  weak- 
ness of  Poland,  and  by  reason  of  exigencies  arising  from  an  alliance 
between  the  three  powers.  My  claim  to  Bavaria,  however,  is  of 
another  nature.  It  is  mine  by  inheritance — the  more  so  tliat  the 
Elector  of  Zweybriicken,  the  successor  of  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  is 
willing  to  concede  me  my  right  to  that  province.  The  Bavarians 
themselves  long  for  annexation  to  Austria,  for  they  know  that  it  is 
their  only  road  to  prosperity.  They  look  with  hope  and  confidence 
to  Maria  Theresa,  whose  goodness  and  greatness  may  compensate 
them  for  all  that  tliey  have  endured  at  the  hands  of  their  pusil- 
lanimous little  rulers.  The  onlv  man  in  Germany  who  will  oppose 
the  succession  of  Austria  to  Bavaria,  is  Frederick,  who  is  as  ready 
to  enlarge  his  own  dominions  as  to  cry  'Stop  thief!'  when  he  sees 
others  doing  likewise.  But  he  will  not  raise  a  single  voice  unless 
he  receive  encouragement  from  other  powers.  If  my  visit  to  France 
has  anj-  political  significance,  it  is  to  obtain  your  majesty's  recogni- 
tion of  my  right  to  Bavaria.  Yes,  sire,  I  do  wish  to  convince  you  of 
the  justice  of  my  claim,  and  to  obtain  from  you  the  promise  of  neu- 
trality when  I  shall  be  ready  to  assert  it.  You  see  that  I  speak  with- 
out reserve,  and  confide  to  you  plans  which  heretofore  have  been 
discussed  in  secret  council  at  Vienna  alone.  " 

"And  I  pledge  my  royal  word  never  to  betray  your  majesty's 
confidence  to  living  mortal, "  replied  Louis,  with  undisguised  em- 
barrassment and  anxiety.  "  Believe  me  when  I  say  that  every  thing 
you  have  spoken  is  as  though  I  had  never  heard  it.  I  shall  bury  it 
within  the  recesses  of  my  own  heart,  and  there  it  shall  remain." 

The  emperor  surveyed  his  brother-in-law  with  a  glance  of  mis- 
trust. He  thought  that  the  assurance  of  his  secrecy  was  given  in 
singular  language.  He  was  not  altogether  satisfied  to  hear  that 
what  he  had  been  saying  was  to  be  treated  as  though  it  had  never 
been  said  at  all. 

"Will  your  majesty,  then,  sustain  me?"  asked  he  of  Louis.  This 
direct  question  staggered  his  majesty  of  France.  He  scarcely  knew 
what  he  was  saying. 

"You  ask  this  question,"  replied  he,  with  a  forced  smile,  "as  if 
the  elector  was  dead,  and  oiir  decision  were  imperative.  Fortu- 
nately, his  highness  of  Bavaria  is  in  excellent  health,  and  the  dis- 
cussion may  be — deferred.  Let  us  think  of  the  present.  You  were 
wise,  my  dear  brother,  when  you  remarked  that  the  beauties  of  Na- 
ture were  calculated  to  elevate  our  minds.  What  royalty  can  be 
compared  to  hers?" 

The  emperor  made  no  reply.  He  felt  the  full  significance  of  the 
king's  ungracious  words,  and  more  than  ever  he  was  convinced  that 
Louis  regarded  him  with  dislike  and  ill-will.  Again  there  was  a 
painful  silence  between  the  two,  and  every  moment  it  weighed 
more  heavily  upon  both. 

At  last  Louis,  awaking  to  a  sense  of  what  was  due  from  host  to 
guest,  made  a  desperate  resolution,  and  spoke. 

"  Have  you  made  any  plans  for  this  evening,  my  brother?"  asked 
he,  timidly. 


THE  PROMENADE  AND  THE  EPIGRAM.  453 

"  No  !"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"You  would  be  very  amiable  if,  instead  of  visiting  the  theatres, 
you  would  join  the  queen  in  a  game  of  cards. " 

"  I  never  play, "  returned  Joseph.  "  A  monarch  who  loses  money 
at  cards,  loses  the  property  of  his  subjects. "  * 

"  Since  you  do  not  like  cards,  we  have  other  recreations  at  hand. 
How  would  you  relish  a  hunt  in  the  woods  of  MeudonV" 

"  Not  at  all, "  said  Joseph.  "  Hunting  is  no  recreation  for  a  mon- 
arch. His  time  is  too  precious  to  be  frittered  away  in  such  idle 
sport. " 

"Ah,  "said  Louis,  whose  patience  was  exhausted,  "you  imitate 
your  old  enemy,  the  King  of  Prussia,  who  for  twenty  years  has  been 
crying  out  against  the  sins  of  hunting  and  gambling. " 

The  emperor's  face  grew  scarlet,  and  his  eyes  flashed.  "Sire," 
replied  he,  "allow  me  to  observe  to  you  that  I  imitate  nobody,  and 
that  I  am  resolved  now  as  ever  to  conduct  myself  as  I  see  fit. " 

To  this  the  king  bowed  in  silence.  He  was  so  weary  of  his  walk 
that  he  led  the  way  to  a  road  by  which  a  short-cut  might  be  made 
to  the  palace.  This  road  was  crossed  by  an  avenue  of  trees  which 
bordered  a  large  iron  gate  leading  to  the  front  entrance  of  the  pal- 
ace. Here  the  people  were  accustomed  to  assemble  to  obtain  a  view^ 
of  their  sovereigns  ;  and  to-day  the  throng  was  greater  than  usual, 
for  they  had  learned  from  the  Swiss  guard  that  the  two  monarchs 
were  out  together,  and  thousands  of  eager  eyes  were  watching  for 
the  glittering  uniforms  of  the  gardes  de  corps. 

Great  was  their  astonishment  to  see  two  individuals  alone,  appar- 
ently independent  of  the  courtiers  at  some  distance  behind  them. 

"Who  could  they  be — these  two  gentlemen  advancing  together? 
Certainly  not  the  emperor  and  the  king,  for  the  latter  never  took  a 
step  without  his  life-guards." 

"But  it  is  the  emperor!"  cried  a  voice  in  the  crowd.  "I  know 
his  handsome  face  and  his  dark-blue  eyes." 

"And  the  other  is  the  king  !"  exclaimed  another  voice. 

"  It  cannot  be, "  said  a  third.  "  The  King  of  France  never  moves 
in  his  own  palace  without  a  wall  of  guards  around  him — how  much 
less  in  the  open  parks,  where  he  is  exposed  to  the  danger  of  meeting 
his  subjects !" 

"  I  suppose  we  are  Indebted  to  the  emperor  for  this  bold  act  of  his 
majesty  to-day, "  said  another  critic. 

"Yes,  yes,  he  it  is  who  has  persuaded  the  king  to  trust  us,"  cried 
the  nuiltitude.     "Let  us  thank  him  by  a  hearty  welcome." 

The  two  princes  were  now  quite  near,  and  the  crowd  took  off 
their  hats.  The  emperor  greeted  them  with  an  affable  smile ;  the 
king  with  several  nods,  but  without  a  shadow  of  cordiality.  Sud- 
denly the  air  was  rent  with  shouts,  and  a  thousand  voices  cried  out, 
"  Long  live  the  emperor  !" 

The  king  reddened,  but  dared  not  give  vent  to  his  displeasure. 
His  eyes  sought  the  ground,  while  Joseph,  gently  shaking  his  head, 
looked  at  the  people  and  pointed  furtively  at  their  sovereign. 

They  understood  him  at  once,  and,  eager  to  repair  the  inadver- 
tence, they  shouted,  "  Long  live  the  emperor  !  Long  live  our  king, 
the  father  of  his  people  !" 

The  emperor  now  smiled  and  waved  his  hand  ;   while  the  king, 
still  displeased,  bowed  gravely  and  turned  toward  Joseph. 
*  Joseph's  own  words.    Hubner,  part  i.,  page  151, 


454  JOSEPH    II.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  he,  in  sharp,  cutting  accents, 
popularity  is  a  cheap  commodity.  A  king-  has  only  to  ride  about 
in  hackney-coaches  and  put  on  the  people's  garb,  to  become  the 
idol  of  the  lower  classes.  The  question,  however,  is,  how  long 
will  a  xjopularity  of  this  sort  last?  " 

"  If  it  be  called  forth  by  a  hackney-coach  and  an  ordinary 
dress,  sire,  it  may  be  of  short  duration;  but  if  it  is  to  last,  it 
must  be  accorded  to  real  worth,"  rei^lied  Joseph,  sympathizing 
with  the  discontent  of  the  king. 

"  Which  no  one  would  presume  to  deny  in  your  majesty's 
case,"  rejoined  Louis  with  a  constrained  and  awkward  bow. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Joseph,  blushing,  "  I  had  not  understood  that 
your  majesty's  irony  was  intended  for  me,  else  I  should  not  have 
answered  as  I  did.  I  do  not  strive  after  popularity.  My  actions 
flow  natiirally  from  my  convictions.  These  teach  me  that  my 
natural  condition  is  not  that  of  an  emperor,  but  of  a  man,  and  I 
conduct  myself  accordingly."  * 

So  saying,  the  emperor  turned  once  more  to  salute  the  people, 
and  then  ascended  the  white  marble  steps  which  led  to  the  terrace  of 
the  palace.  The  two  monarchs  and  the  glittering  courtiers  dis- 
appeared amid  the  "  vivas  "  of  the  multitude,  and  now  they  became 
suddenly  silent. 

In  the  midst  of  this  silence,  the  same  voice  which  had  so  sharply 
criticised  the  king,  was  heard.     Again  it  spoke  as  follows  : 

"Marsorio  has  made  another  epigram,  and  mistaking  me  for 
Pasquin  has  just  whispered  it  in  my  ear  !" 

"What  did  he  say?  Tell  us  what  our  good  Marsorio  says  !  Re- 
peat the  epigram  !"  saluted  the  speaker  on  every  side. 

"  Here  it  is, "  returned  the  voice. 

"  A  nos  yeux  6tonn6s  de  sa  simplicity 
Fallienstein  a  niontre  la  majesty  sans  faste  ; 
Chez  uous  par  uu  honteux  contraste 
Qu'a-t'il  trouv6  ?    Faste  sans  majestS."  t 


CHAPTER    CXVIII. 

THE    DINNER    EN    FAMILLE. 

Meanwhile  the  king  and  the  emperor  reached  the  apartment 
which  opened  into  the  private  dining-room  of  the  royal  family. 
The  princes  with  their  wives  were  already  there  ;  but  Marie  Antoi- 
nette always  came  at  the  last  moment.  She  dreaded  the  sarcasm  of 
the  Count  de  Provence,  and  the  sullen  or  contemptuous  glances  of 
the  king.  She  would  have  given  much  to  return  to  the  old  stiff, 
public  ceremonial  which  she  had  banished,  but  that  she  could  not 
do.  It  would  have  been  too  great  a  concession  to  the  court.  Her 
only  refuge  was  to  stay  away  as  long  as  decorum  allowed,  and  after 
the  emperor's  arrival  she  never  entered  the  room  until  he  had  been 
announced. 

To-day  she  was  even  later  than  usual ;  and  the  king,  who  like 
other  mortals,  was  hungry  after  his  walk,  began  to  grow  sulky  at 
the  delay.     When  at  last  she  entered  the  room,  he  scarcely  vouch- 

*  The  emperor's  own  words.    Rarashoru's  "  Joseph  II.,"  page  146. 
t  Ramshoru,  page  14G. 


THE  DINNER  EN  FAMILLE.  455 

safed  her  an  inclination  of  the  head  as  he  rose  to  conduct  her  to  the 
table.  The  queen  seemed  not  to  perceive  the  omission.  She  gave 
him  her  hand  with  a  sweet  smile,  and  despite  his  ill-humor,  Louis 
could  not  suppress  a  throb  as  he  saw  how  brilliantly  beautiful  she 
was. 

^    "  You  have  made  us  wait,  madame, "  said  he,  "  but  your  appear- 
ance to-day  repays  us  for  your  tardiness. " 

The  queen  smiled  agair,  for  well  she  knew  that  she  was  bewitch- 
ingly  dressed,  and  that  the  new  coiffure  which  Leonard  had  con- 
trived, was  really  becoming,  and  would  heighten  her  charms  by 
contrast  with  the  hideous  towers  that  were  heaped,  like  Pelion  upon 
Ossa,  over  the  heads  cf  the  princesses. 

"  I  hope  that  your  majesty  will  forgive  me  for  being  late, "  said 
she,  secure  in  the  power  of  her  fascinations.  "  My  little  Jacques  is 
to  blame.  Ho  is  r:ick  to-day,  and  would  have  no  one  to  put  him  to 
sleep  but  myself. " 

"Your  majesty  should  feel  flattered,"  cried  the  Count  de  Pro- 
vence. "  Y^ou  are  expected  to  put  off  your  dinner  vmtil  a  little  peasant 
is  pleased  to  go  to  sleep. " 

"Pardon  me,  your  highness,"  said  the  queen,  coloring,  "Jacques 
is  no  longer  a  peasant — he  is  my  child. " 

"  The  dauphin,  perchance,  which  your  majesty  promised  not  long 
since  to  the  dames  de  la  halle  ?  "  answered  the  king's  brother. 

The  queen  blushed  so  deeply  that  the  flush  of  her  shame  over- 
spread lier  whole  face  and  neck  ;  but  instead  of  retorting,  she  turned 
to  address  her  brother. 

"  You  have  not  a  word  of  greeting  for  me,  Joseph  ?" 

"My  dear  sister,"  said  the  emperor,  "I  am  speechless  with  ad- 
miration at  your  coiffure.  AVhere  did  you  get  such  a  wilderness  of 
flowers  and  feathers'?" 

"  They  are  the  work  of  Leonard. " 

"Who  is  Leonard?" 

"What!"  interrupted  the  Countess  d'Artois,  "  your  majesty  does 
not  know  who  Leonard  is — Leonard  the  queen's  hair  dresser — Leon- 
ard the  autocrat  of  fashion?  He  it  is  who  imagined  our  lovely 
sister's  coiffure,  and  certainly  these  feathers  are  superb  !" 

"  Beautiful  indeed  !"  cried  the  Countess  de  Provence,  with  an 
appearance  of  ecstasy. 

"  Are  these  the  costly  feathers  which  I  heard  your  majesty  admir- 
ing in  the  hat  of  the  Duke  de  Lauzun  ?"  asked  the  Count  de  Pro- 
vence, pointedly. 

"  That  is  a  curious  question, "  remarked  the  king.  "  How  should 
the  feathers  of  the  Duke  de  Lauzun  be  transported  to  the  head  of  the 
queen  ?" 

"  Sire,  I  vras  by,  when  De  Gueinenee  on  the  part  of  De  Lauzun, 
requested  the  queen's  acceptance  of  the  feathers." 

"And  the  queen?"  said  Louis,  with  irritation. 

"  I  accepted  the  gift,  sire, "  replied  Marie  Antoinette,  calmly. 
"  The  offer  was  not  altogether  in  accordance  with  court-etiquette, 
but  no  disrespect  was  intended,  and  I  could  not  inflict  upon  Mon- 
sieur de  Lauzun  the  humiliation  of  a  refusal.  The  Count  de  Pro- 
vence, however,  can  spare  himself  further  anxiety  in  the  matter,  as 
the  feathers  that  I  wear  to-day  are  those  which  were  lately  presented 
to  me  by  my  sister,  the  Queen  of  Naples. " 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  "I  was  not  aware  that  Caro- 

30 


456  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

line  gave  presents,  although  I  know  that  she  frequently  accepts  them 
from  her  courtiers. " 

"The  etiquette  at  Naples  differs  then  from  that  of  Paris, "re- 
marked the  king.  "  No  subject  has  the  right  to  offer  a  gift  to  the 
Queen  of  France. " 

"  Heaven  be  praised  !"  cried  the  Count  de  Provence,  "  nobody  here 
pays  any  attention  to  court-customs !  Since  Madame  de  Noailles 
gave  in  her  resignation  we  have  been  free  to  do  all  things.  This  in- 
estimable freedom  w-e  owe  to  our  lovely  sister-in-law ;  who,  in 
defiance  of  all  prejudice,  has  had  boldness  enough  to  burst  the  fet- 
ters which  for  so  many  hundred  years  had  impeded  the  actions  of 
the  Queens  of  France. " 

At  that  moment  the  lirst  lady  of  honor,  on  bended  knee,  pre- 
sented the  queen  her  soup,  and  this  relieved  Marie  Antoinette  from 
the  painfvd  embarrassment  which  this  equivocal  compliment  occa- 
sioned.    But  the  emperor  interposed. 

"  You  have  reason  to  be  thankful  to  my  sister  that  she  has  had 
the  independence  to  attack  these  absurdities, "  said  Joseph,  \\  armly. 
"  But  pardon  me  if  I  ask  if  etiquette  at  Versailles  approves  of  the 
conversion  of  the  corridors,  galleries,  and  staircases  of  the  palace 
into  booths  for  tlie  accommodation  of  shopkeepers  and  tradesmen. "  * 

"It  is  an  old  privilege  which  custom  has  sanctioned, "  returned 
the  king,  smiling. 

"But  which  violates  the  sanctity  of  the  king's  residence,"  ob- 
jected the  emperor.  "The  Saviour  who  drove  the  money-changers 
from  the  temple,  would  certainly  expel  these  traders,  were  he  to 
appear  on  earth  to-day." 

This  observation  was  received  in  sullen,  silence.  The  royal  family 
looked  annoyed,  but  busied  themselves  with  their  knives  and  forks. 
A  most  unpleasant  pause  ensued,  which  was  broken  by  the  queen, 
who  turning  to  her  brother,  asked  him  what  he  had  seen  to  interest 
him  since  liis  arrival  in  Paris. 

"  You  well  know, "  said  he,  "  that  Paris  abounds  in  interesting 
institutions.  Yesterday  I  was  filled  with  enthusiasm  with  what  I 
saw  in  the  course  of  my  morning  ramble. " 

"Wliither  did  you  go,  count?"  asked  Louis,  appeased  and  flat- 
tered by  the  emperor's  words. 

"  To  the  Invalides  ;  and  I  confess  to  you  that  the  sight  of  this  noble 
asylum  filled  me  with  as  much  envy  as  admiration.  I  have  nothing 
in  Vienna  that  will  bear  comparison  with  this  magnificent  offering 
of  France  to  her  valiant  defenders.  You  must  feel  your  heart  stir 
with  pride  whenever  you  visit  those  crippled  heroes,  sire." 

"I  have  never  visited  the  Invalides,''  said  the  king,  coloring. 

"What!"  cried  Josepli,  raising  his  hands  in  astonishment,  "the 
King  of  France  has  never  visited  the  men  who  have  suffered  in  liis 
behalf !  Sire,  if  you  have  neglected  this  sacred  duty,  you  should 
hasten  to  repair  the  omission." 

"What  else  did  you  see?"  asked  the  queen,  striving  to  cover  the 
king's  displeasure,  and  the  contemptuous  by-play  of  the  Count  de 
Provence. 

"I  visited  the  Foundling  Hospital.  To  you,  Antoinette,  this 
hospital  must  possess  especial  interest. " 

♦This  custom  was  subsequently  abolished  by  Marie  Antoinette,  and  the  lower 
classes  never  forgave  her  for  withdrawing  this  extraordinary  privilege  frona  the 
hucksters  of  Paris. 


THE  DINNER   EN   FAMILLE.  457 

"Oh,  yes.  I  subscribe  yearly  to  it  from  my  private  purse,"  said 
the  queen. 

"  But  surely  you  sometimes  visit  the  pious  sisters  upon  whom 
devolves  the  real  burden  of  this  charity,  to  reward  them  by  your 
sympathy  for  their  disinterested  labors?" 

"No,  I  have  never  been  there,"  replied  the  queen,  confused.  "It 
is  not  allowed  to  the  Queens  of  France  to  visit  public  benevolent 
institutions." 

"And  yet  it  is  allowable  for  them  to  attend  public  balls  at  the 
opera-house !" 

Marie  Antoinette  blushed  and  looked  displeased.  This  sally  of 
the  emperor  was  followed  by  another  blank  pause,  which  finally  was 
broken  by  himself. 

"I  also  visited  another  noble  institution, "  continued  he,  "  that  of 
the  deaf  mutes.  The  Abbe  de  I'Epee  deserves  the  homage  of  the 
world  for  this  monument  of  individual  charity  ;  for  I  have  been  told 
that  his  institution  has  never  yet  received  assistance  from  the  crown. 
My  dear  sister,  I  venture  to  ask  alms  of  you  for  his  unfortunate  pro- 
teges. With  what  strength  of  love  has  he  explored  the  dark  recesses 
of  their  minds,  to  bear  within  the  light  of  intelligence  and  cultiva- 
tion !  Think  how  he  has  rescued  them  from  a  joyless  stupor,  to 
place  them  by  the  side  of  thinking,  reasoning  and  happy  human 
beings  !  As  soon  as  I  i-eturn  to  Vienna,  I  shall  found  an  institution 
for  the  deaf  and  dumb ;  I  have  already  arranged  with  the  abbe  to 
impart  his  system  to  a  person  who  shall  be  sent  to  conduct  the  asylum 
I  propose  to  endow. " 

"I  am  happy  to  think  that  you  meet  with  so  many  things  in 
France  worthy  of  your  approval,  count, "  remarked  the  king. 

"  Paris,  sire, "  said  Joseph,  "  is  rich  in  ti'easures  of  whose  exist- 
ence you  are  scarcely  aware. " 

"  What  are  these  treasures,  then  ?    Enlighten  me,  count. " 

"They  are  the  magnificent  works  of  art,  sire,  which  are  lying 
like  rubbish  in  your  royal  store-houses  in  Paris.  Luckily,  as  I  have 
been  told,  etiquette  i-equires  that  tlie  pictures  in  your  palaces  should, 
from  time  to  time,  be  exchanged,  and  thus  these  mastei'pieces  are 
sometimes  brought  to  view.  In  this  matter,  I  acknowledge  that 
etiquette  is  wisdom. "  * 

"Etiquette,"  replied  Louis,  "is  often  the  only  defence  which 
kings  can  place  between  themselves  and  importunate  wis- 
dom. " 

"  Wisdom  is  so  hard  to  find  that  I  should  think  it  impossible  for 
her  to  be  importunate, "  returned  Joseph.  "I  met  with  her  yester- 
day, however,  in  another  one  of  your  noble  institutions — I  mean  the 
military  school.  I  si>ent  three  hours  there,  and  I  envy  you  the 
privilege  of  visiting  it  as  often  as  you  feel  disposed." 

"Your  envy  is  quite  inappropriate,"  replied  Louis,  sharply,  "for 
I  have  never  visited  the  institute  at  all. " 

"Impossible!"  cried  the  emperor,  warmly.  "You  are  un- 
acquainted with  all  that  is  noblest  and  greatest  in  your  own  capital, 
sire  !  It  is  your  duty  as  a  king  to  know  every  thing  that  concerns 
the  welfare  of  your  subjects,  not  only  here  in  Paris,  but  throughout 
all  France,  "t 

"I  disagree  with  you,  and  I  am  of  opinion  that  wisdom  is  often 

*The  emperor's  words.    Cainpan,  vol.  i.,  p.  178. 
tThe  emperor's  words.    Campan,  vol.  i.,  p.  79. 


i58  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

exceedingly  offensive, "  replied  the  king,  frowning,  as  with  a  stiff 
bow,  he  rose  from  the  table. 

Marie  Antoinette  looked  anxiously  at  Joseph  to  see  the  effects  of 
her  husband's  impoliteness  ;  but  the  emperor  looked  perfectly  uncon- 
scious, and  began  to  discuss  the  subject  of  painting  with  the  Count 
d'Artois. 

The  queen  retired  to  her  cabinet,  heartily  rejoicing  that  the 
diner  eufamiUe  had  come  to  an  end  ;  and  almost  ready  to  order  that 
the  royal  meals  should  be  served  in  the  state  dining-room,  and  the 
lieople  of  Paris  invited  to  resume  their  old  custom  of  coming  to  stare 
at  the  royal  family  ! 

She  sat  down  to  her  escritoire,  to  work  with  her  treasurer  and 
private  secretary  ;  that  is,  to  sign  all  the  papers  that  he  placed  before 
her  for  that  purpose. 

The  door  opened  and  the  emperor  entered  the  room.  The  queen 
would  have  risen,  but  he  prevented  her,  and  begged  that  he  might 
not  feel  himself  to  be  an  intruder. 

"  I  came,  dear  sister, "  said  he,  "  to  ask  you  to  accompany  me  to 
the  theatre  to-night.  Meanwhile  it  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to 
see  you  usefully  emploj^ed. " 

So  the  queen  went  on  signing  papers,  not  one  of  which  slie  ex- 
amined. The  emperor  watched  her  for  a  time  in  astonished  silence  ; 
finally  he  came  up  to  the  escritoire. 

"  Sister, "  said  he,  "  I  think  it  very  strange  that  you  put  your  name 
to  so  many  documents  without  ever  looking  at  their  contents. " 

"Why  strange,  brother?"  asked  the  queen,  opening  her  large  eyes 
in  wonder. 

"Because  it  is  a  culpable  omission,  Antoinette.  You  should  not 
so  lightly  throw  away  your  royal  signature.  The  name  of  a  sover- 
eign sliould  never  be  signed  without  deliberation  ;  much  less  blindly, 
as  you  are  signing  yours  at  present. "  * 

Marie  Antoinette  colored  with  vexation  at  this  reproof  in  pres- 
ence of  one  of  her  own  subjects.  "  Brother, "  replied  she  hastily,  "  I 
admire  the  facility  with  which  you  generalize  on  the  subject  of 
other  people's  derelictions.  Unhappily,  your  homilies  are  some- 
times misapplied.  My  secretary.  Monsieur  d'Augeard,  has  my  full 
confidence  ;  and  these  papers  are  merely  the  quarterly  accounts  of 
my  household  expenditures.  They  have  already  been  approved  by 
the  auditor,  and  you  perceive  that  I  risk  nothing  by  afl^xing  my 
signature. " 

"I  perceive  further, "  replied  Joseph,  smiling,  "that  you  are  of 
one  mind  with  your  husband,  and  find  wisdom  sometimes  very 
offensive.  Forgive  me  if  in  my  over-anxiety  I  have  hurt  you,  dear 
sister.  Let  us  be  friends  ;  for  indeed,  my  poor  Antoinette,  you  are 
sorely  in  need  of  friends  at  this  court. " 

The  queen  dismissed  her  secretary,  and  then  came  forward  and 
took  her  brother's  hand.  "You  have  discovered  then, "said  she, 
"that  I  am  surrounded  by  enemies?" 

"I  have  indeed;  and  I  tremble  for  your  safety.  Your  foes  are 
powerful,  and  you — you  are  not  sufficiently  cautious,  Antoinette,  " 

"What  is  it  in  me  that  they  find  to  blame  !"  exclaimed  she,  lier 
beautiful  eyes  filling  with  tears. 

"Some  other  day,  we  must  talk  of  this  together.  I  see  that  you 
are  threatened  ;   but  as  yet,  I  neither  understand  the  cause  of  your 

*  The  emperor's  own  words. 


A  VISIT  TO  JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU.  459 

danger  nor  its  remedy.  As  soon  as  I  shall  have  unravelled  the  mys- 
tery of  your  position,  I  will  seek  an  interview  with  you  ;  and  then, 
dear  sister,  we  must  forget  that  we  are  sovereigns,  and  remember 
but  one  thing — the  ties  that  have  bound  us  together  since  first  we 
loved  each  other  as  children  of  one  father  and  mother. " 

Marie  Antoinette  laid  her  head  upon  her  brother's  bosom  and 
wept.  "Oh,  that  we  were  children  again  in  the  gardens  of  Schon- 
bruun !"  sobbed  she;  "for  there  at  least  we  were  innocent  and 
happy !" 


CHAPTER    CXIX. 

A  VISIT  TO  JEAN  JACQUES  KOUSSEAU. 

Before  the  door  of  a  small,  mean  house  in  the  village  of  Mont- 
morency, stood  a  hackney-coach  from  which  a  man,  plainly  dressed, 
but  distinguished  in  appearance,  had  just  alighted.  He  was  con- 
templated with  shall)  scrutiny  by  a  woman,  who,  with  arms 
a-kimbo,  blocked  up  the  door  of  the  cottage. 

■'  Does  Monsieur  Rousseau  live  here?"  asked  the  stranger,  touching 
his  hat. 

"Yes,  my  husband  lives  here, "  said  the  woman,  sharply. 

"  Ah,  yovx  are  then  Therese  Levasseur,  the  companion  of  the  great 
philosopher?" 

",Yes,  I  am  ;  and  the  Lord  knows  that  I  lead  a  pitiful  life  with 
the  philosopher. " 

"  You  complain,  madame,  and  yet  you  are  the  chosen  friend  of  a 
great  man !" 

"People  do  not  live  on  greatness,  sir,  nor  on  goodness  either. 
Jean  Jacques  is  too  good  to  be  of  any  use  in  this  world.  He  gives 
away  every  thing  he  has,  and  leaves  nothing  for  himself  and  me." 

The  stranger  grew  sad  as  he  looked  at  this  great,  strapping 
woman,  whose  red  face  was  the  very  representative  of  coarseness 
and  meanness. 

"Be  so  good  as  to  conduct  me  to  Monsieur  Rousseau's  presence, 
madame, "  said  he,  in  rather  a  commanding  tone. 

"I  shall  do  no  such  thing, "  cried  Therese  Levasseur,  in  a  loud, 
rough  voice.  "  People  who  visit  iu  hackney  coaches  should  not  take 
airs.     Monsieur  Rousseau  is  not  to  be  seen  by  everybody. " 

"  A  curious  doctrine  that,  to  be  propounded  before  a  philosopher's 
door!"  said  the  stranger,  laughing.  "But  pray,  madame,  excuse 
me  and  my  hackney-coach,  and  allow  me  to  pass." 

"You  shall  first  tell  your  business.  Do  you  bring  music  to 
copy  ?" 

"No,  madame,  I  come  merely  to  visit  monsieur." 

"Then  you  can  go  as  you  came!"  exclaimed  the  virago.  "My 
husband  is  not  a  wild  animal  on  exhibition,  and  I  am  not  going  to 
let  in  every  idle  stranger  that  interferes  with  his  work,  and  cuts  off 
my  bread.  God  knows  he  gives  me  little  enough,  without  lessening 
the  pittance  by  wasting  his  time  talking  to  j-ou  or  the  like  of  you. " 

"The  stranger  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and,  drawing  it  out 
again,  laid  something  in  the  palm  of  Therese's  broad,  dirty  hand. 
He  repeated  his  request. 

She   looked  at  the  gold,  and  her  avaricious   face  brightened. 


460  JOSEPH  11.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Yes,  yes, "said  she,  contemplating  it  with  a  greedy  smile,  "you 
shall  see  Jean  Jacques.  But  first  you  must  promise  not  to  tell  him 
of  the  louis  d'or.  He  would  growl  and  wish  me  to  give  it  back. 
He  is  such  a  fool !  He  would  rather  starve  than  let  his  friends  assist 
him. " 

"  Be  at  ease— I  shall  not  say  a  word  to  him. " 

"Then,  sir,  go  in  and  mount  the  stairs,  but  take  care  not  to 
stumble,  for  the  railing  is  down.  Knock  at  the  door  above,  and 
there  you  will  find  Jean  Jacques.  While  you  talk  to  him  I  will  go 
out  and  spend  this  money  all  for  his  comfort.  Let  me  see— he  needs 
a  pair  of  shoes  and  a  cravat— and— well, "  continued  she,  nodding 
her  head,  "farewell,  don't  break  your  neck. 

"Yes,"  muttered  she,  as  she  went  back  to  the  street,  "he  wants 
shoes  and  cravats,  and  coats,  too,  for  that  matter,  but  I  am  not  the 
fool  to  waste  my  money  upon  him.  I  shall  spend  it  on  myself  for  a 
new  neckerchief  ;  and  if  there  is  any  thing  left,  I  shall  treat  myself 
to  a  couple  of  bottles  of  wine  and  some  fish. " 

While  Therese  stalked  through  the  streets  to  spend  her  money, 
the  stranger  had  obtained  entrance  into  the  little  dark  room  where 
sat  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau. 

It  was  close  and  mouldy  like  the  rest  of  the  house,  and  a  few 
straw  chairs  with  one  deal  table  was  the  only  furniture  there.  On 
the  wall  hung  several  bird-cages,  whose  inmates  were  twittering 
and  warbling  one  to  another.  Before  the  small  window,  which 
looked  out  upon  a  noble  walnut-tree,  stood  several  glass  globes,  in 
which  various  worms  and  fishes  were  leading  an  uneasy  ex- 
istence. 

Rousseau  himself  was  seated  at  the  table  writing.  He  wore  a 
coat  of  coarse  gray  cloth,  like  that  of  a  laborer,  the  collar  of  his 
rough  linen  shirt  was  turned  down  over  a  bright  cotton  scarf,  which 
was  carelessly  tied  around  his  neck.  His  face  was  pale,  sad,  and 
weary  ;  and  his  scant  gray  hairs,  as  well  as  the  deep  wrinkles  upon 
his  forehead,  were  the  scroll  whereon  time  had  written  sixtv  years  of 
strife  and  struggle  with  life.  Imagination,  however,  still  looked 
out  from  the  depths  of  his  dark  eyes,  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
were  still  graceful  with  the  pencillings  of  many  a  good-humored 
smile. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir, "  said  the  stranger,  "  that  I  enter  unannounced. 
I  found  no  one  to  precede  me  hither. " 

"We  are  too  poor  to  keep  a  servant,  sir,"  replied  Rousseau,  "and 
I  presume  that  my  good  Therese  has  gone  out  on  some  errand. 
How  can  I  serve  you  !" 

"I  came  to  visit  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  the  poet  and  philoso- 
pher. " 

"I  am  the  one,  but  scarcely  the  other  two.  Life  has  gone  so 
roughly  with  nu>,  that  poetry  has  vanished  long  ago  from  my  domi- 
cile, and  men  have  deceived  me  so  often,  that  I  have  fled  from  the 
world  m  disgust.  You  see,  then,  that  I  have  no  claim  to  the  title 
of  philosopher." 

"And  thus  speaks  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  who  once  taught  that 
mankind  were  naturally  good?" 

"I  still  believe  in  my  own  teachings,  sir,"  cried  Rousseau 
warmly.  "  Man  is  the  vinculum  that  connects  the  Creator  with  His 
creation,  and  light  from  lieaven  illumes  his  birth  and  infancy. 
But  the  world,  sir,  is  evil,  and  is  swayed  by  two  demons— selfishness 


A  VISIT  TO  JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU.  461 

and  falsehood.  *  These  demons  poison  the  heart  of  man,  and  influ- 
ence him  to  actions  whose  sole  object  is  to  advance  himself  and  preju- 
dice his  neighbor. " 

"  I  fear  that  your  two  demons  were  coeval  with  the  creation  of 
the  world, "  said  the  stranger,  with  a  smile. 

"  No,  no  ;  they  were  not  in  Paradise.  And  what  is  Paradise  but 
the  primitive  condition  of  man — that  happy  state  when  in  sweet 
harmony  with  Nature,  he  lay  upon  the  bosom  of  his  mother  earth, 
and  inhaled  health  and  peace  from  her  life-giving  breath?  Let  us 
return  to  a  state  of  nature,  and  we  shall  find  that  the  gates  of  Para- 
dise have  reopened. " 

"  Never  !     We  have  tasted  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  and  are  for 
•ever  exiled  from  Eden. " 

"  Woe  to  us  all,  if  what  you  say  is  true  ;  for  then  the  world  is  but 
a  vale  of  misery,  and  the  wise  man  has  but  one  resource — self- 
destruction  !     But  pardon  me,  I  have  not  offered  you  a  chair. " 

The  stranger  accepted  a  seat,  and  glanced  at  the  heaps  of  papers 
that  covered  the  rickety  old  table. 

"You  were  writing?"  asked  he.  "Are  we  soon  to  receive  an- 
other great  work  from  Rousseau's  hands?" 

"  No,  sir, "  replied  Rousseau,  sadly,  "  I  am  too  unhappy  to  write. " 

"But  surely  this  is  writing, "and  the  stranger  pointed  to  the 
papers  around. 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  I  copy  music,  and  God  knows  that  in  the  notes  I 
write,  there  is  little  or  no  thought.  I  have  written  books  that  I 
might  give  occasion  to  the  French  to  think,  but  they  have  never 
profited  by  the  oj^portunity.  They  are  more  complaisant  now  that  J 
copy  music.     I  give  them  a  chance  to  sing,  and  they  sing."  f 

"It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  great  discord  in  their  music,  sir. 
You  who  are  as  great  a  musician  as  a  philosopher,  can  tell  me 
whether  I  judge  correctly. " 

"You  are  right,"  replied  Rousseau.  "The  dissonance  increases 
with  every  hour.  The  voice  which  you  hear  is  that  of  the  people, 
and  the  day  will  come  when,  claiming  their  rights,  they  wnll  rend 
the  air  with  a  song  of  sucli  hatred  and  revenge  as  the  world  haa 
never  heard  before. " 

"But  who  denies  their  rights  to  the  people?" 

"The  proi^erty-holders,  the  priests,  the  nobles,  and  the  king." 

"The  king  !  what  has  he  done?" 

"  He  is  the  grandson  of  that  Louis  XV. ,  whose  life  of  infamy  is  a 
foul  blot  upon  the  fame  of  France  ;  and  nothing  can  ever  wash  away 
the  disgrace  save  an  ocean  of  royal  blood. " 

"Terrible!"  exclaimed  the  visitor,  with  a  shudder.  "Are  you  a 
prophet,  that  you  allow  yourself  sucli  anticipations  of  evil?" 

"  No,  sir,  I  predict  what  is  to  come,  from  my  knowledge  of  that 
which  has  gone  by. " 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

Rousseau  slowly  shook  his  head.  "  Fate  has  threatened  this  un- 
happj'  king  from  the  day  of  his  birth.  Warning  after  warning  has 
been  sent  and  disregarded.  Truly,  the  man  was  a  wise  one  who 
said,  'Whom  the  gods  destroy,  they  first  blind  !'  " 

*  This  is  not  very  philosophical.  If  the  fraction  man  be  intrinsically  good,  how  is 
it  that  tlie  whole  (the  world  which  is  made  up  of  nothing  but  men)  is  so  evil  ?  Is 
there  a  demiurge  responsible  for  the  introduction  of  these  two  demons  ? 

tThis  is  Rousseau's  own  language,    liamshorn,  p.  140. 


462  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  I  implore  you,  speak  further.  Wliat  evil  omens  have  you  seen 
that  lead  you  to  apprehend  misfortune  to  Louis  XVI.  ?" 

"  Have  you  never  heard  of  them  ?    They  are  generally  kuovv^n. " 

"No,  indeed,  I  beseech  you,  enlighten  me,  for  I  have  good  reason 
for  my  curiosity. " 

"Louis  was  not  born  like  his  predecessors,  and  it  is  generally 
believed  that  he  will  not  die  a  natural  death.  Not  a  single  member 
of  the  royal  family  was  present  at  his  birth.  When,  overtaken  by 
the  pangs  of  childbirth,  his  mother  was  accidentally  alone  in  the 
palace  of  Versailles  ;  and  the  heir  of  France,  upon  his  entrance  into 
life,  was  received  by  some  insignificant  stranger.  The  courier  who 
was  sent  to  announce  his  birth  fell  from  his  horse  and  was  killed  on 
the  spot.  The  Abbe  de  Saujou,  who  was  called  in  to  christen  the. 
infant,  was  struck  by  apoplexy  while  entering  the  chapel  door,  and 
his  arm  and  tongue  were  paralyzed.*  From  hundreds  of  healthy 
women  the  physician  of  the  dauphiness  chose  three  nurses  for  the 
prince.  At  the  end  of  a  week  two  of  them  were  dead,  and  the  third 
one,  Madame  Guillotine,  after  nursing  him  for  six  weeks,  was  car- 
ried off  by  small-pox.  Even  tlie  frivolous  grandfather  was  terrified 
by  such  an  accumulation  of  evil  omens,  and  he  was  heard  to  regret 
that  he  had  given  to  his  grandson  the  title  of  Duke  de  Berry,  '  For, ' 
said  he,  'the  name  has  always  brought  ill-luck  to  its  possessors. '  "  f 

"  But  the  king  has  long  since  outlived  the  name,  and  has  triumphed 
over  all  the  uncomfortable  circumstances  attending  his  birth,  for 
he  is  now  King  of  France. " 

"And  do  you  know  what  he  said  when  the  crown  was  placed  upon 
his  head?" 

"  No,  I  have  never  heard. " 

"  He  was  crowned  at  Rheims.  Wlien  the  hand  of  the  archbishop 
was  withdrawn  from  the  crown,  the  king  moaned,  and  turning 
deadly  pale,  murmured,  'Oh,  how  it  pains  me  !'|  Once  before  him, 
a  King  of  France  had  made  the  same  exclamation,  and  that  king 
was  Henry  III. " 

"Strange!"  said  the  visitor.  "All  this  seems  very  absurd,  and 
yet  it  fills  me  with  horror.  Have  you  any  thing  more  of  the  same 
sort  to  point  out?" 

"  Remember  all  that  occurred  when  the  dauphin  was  married  to 
the  Archduchess  Marie  Antoinette.  When  she  put  her  foot  upon 
French  ground,  a  tent  had  been  erected,  according  to  custom,  where 
she  was  to  lay  aside  her  clothing,  and  be  attired  in  garments  of 
French  manufacture.  The  walls  of  the  tent  were  hung  with  costly 
Gobelin  tapestry,  all  of  which  represented  scenes  of  bloodshed.  On 
one  side  was  the  massacre  of  the  innocents,  on  the  other  the  execu- 
tion of  the  Maccabees.  The  archduchess  herself  was  horror-stricken 
at  the  omen.  On  that  night,  two  of  the  ladies  in  waiting,  who  had 
assisted  the  queen  in  her  toilet,  died  suddenly.  Think  of  the  terrible 
storm  that  raged  on  the  dauphin's  wedding  night ;  and  of  the  dread- 
ful accident  which  accompanied  his  entrance  into  Paris  ;  and  then 
tell  me  whether  death  is  not  around,  perchance  before  this  unhappy 
king?" 

"But  to  what  end  are  these  omens,  since  they  cannot  help  us  to 
avert  evil?" 

*  "  M6molres  de  Madame  de  Creque,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  179. 
+  Creque,  vol.  iii.,  p.  180. 
t  Cauipan,  vol.  i.,  p.  115. 


THE  PARTING.  463 

"To  what  end?"  asked  Rousseau,  as  with  a  smile  he  contemplated 
the  agitated  countenance  of  his  guest.  "To  this  end — that  the  em- 
peror Joseph  may  warn  his  brother  and  sister  of  the  fate  which 
threatens,  and  which  will  surely  engulf  them,  if  they  do  not  heed 
the  signs  of  the  coming  tempest. " 

"How,  Rousseau!  you  know  me?" 

"  If  I  had  not  known  you,  sire,  I  would  not  have  spoken  so  freely 
of  the  king.  I  saw  you  in  Paris  at  the  theatre,  and  I  am  rejoiced  to 
be  able  to  speak  to  your  majesty  as  man  to  man,  and  friend  to 
friend. " 

"  Then  let  me  be  as  frank  as  my  friend  has  been  to  me, "  said 
Joseph  extending  his  hand.  "  You  are  not  situated  as  becomes  a 
man  of  your  genius  and  fame.  What  can  I  do  to  better  your 
condition?" 

"  Better  my  condition  ?"  repeated  Rousseau  absently.  "  Nothing. 
I  am  an  old  man  whose  every  illusion  has  fled.  My  only  wants  are 
a  ray  of  sunshine  to  warm  my  old  limbs,  and  a  crust  of  bread  to 
appease  my  hunger. " 

At  this  moment  a  shrill  voice  was  heard  without :  "  Put  do^vn 
the  money  and  I  will  fetch  the  music,  for  we  are  sadly  pressed  for 
every  thing. " 

"Good  Heaven!"  exclaimed  Rousseau,  anxiously.  "I  am  not 
ready,  and  I  had  promised  the  music  to  Therese  for  this  very  hour. 
How  shall  I  excnse  myself?"  Here  the  unhappy  philosopher  turned 
to  the  emperor.  "  Sire,  you  asked  what  you  could  do  for  me — I  im- 
plore you  leave  tliis  room  before  Therese  enters  it.  She  will  be 
justly  displeased  if  she  finds  you  here ;  and  when  my  dear  good 
Therese  is  angry,  she  speaks  so  loud  that  my  nerves  are  discomposed 
for  hours  afterward.  Here,  sire,  through  this  other  door.  It  leads 
to  my  bedroom,  and  thence  by  a  staircase  to  the  street. " 

Trembling  with  excitement,  Rousseau  hurried  the  emperor  into 
the  next  room.  The  latter  waved  his  hand,  and  the  door  closed  upon 
him.  As  he  reached  the  street  Joseph  heard  the  sharp,  discordant 
tones  of  Therese  Levasseur's  voice,  heaping  abuse  upon  the  head  of 
her  philosopher,  because  he  had  not  completed  his  task,  and  they 
would  not  have  a  sou  wherewith  to  buy  dinner. 


CHAPTER    CXX. 

THE  PARTING. 

The  visit  of  the  emperor  was  drawing  to  a  close.  He  had  tasted 
to  its  utmost  of  the  enjoyments  of  the  peerless  city.  He  had  become 
acquainted  with  its  great  national  institutions,  its  industrial  re- 
sources, its  treasures  of  art  and  of  science.  The  Parisians  were 
enthusiastic  in  his  praise  ;  from  the  nobleman  to  the  artisan,  every 
man  had  something  to  say  in  favor  of  the  gracious  and  affable 
brother  of  the  queen.  Even  the  fish- wives,  those  formidable  claims 
cle  la  halle,  had  walked  in  procession  to  pay  their  respects,  and  pre- 
sent him  a  bouquet  of  gigantic  proportions.* 

The  emperor  was  popular  everywhere  except  at  court.  His  can- 
dor was  unacceptable,  and  his  occasional  sarcasms  had  stung  the 

*On  this  occasion  Madame  Trigodin,  one  of  the  most  prominent  ef  the  poissardes, 
made  an  address  on  behalf  of  the  sisterhood.    Hubner,  i.,  p.  151. 


464  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

pride  of  the  royal  family.  The  king  never  pardoned  him  the  un- 
palatable advice  he  had  bestowed  relative  to  the  hospitals,  the 
Invalides,  and  the  military  schools.  The  queen,  too,  was  irritated 
to  see  that  whereas  her  brother  might  have  expressed  his  disappro- 
bation of  her  acts  in  private,  he  never  failed  to  do  so  in  presence  of 
the  court.  The  consequence  was,  that,  like  the  king  and  the  rest 
of  the  i-oyal  family,  Marie  Antoinette  was  relieved  when  this  long- 
wished-for  visit  of  the  emperor  was  over.  This  did  not  prevent  her 
from  clinging  to  his  neck,  and  shedding  abundant  tears  as  she  felt 
his  warm  and  loving  embrace. 

The  emperor  drew  her  close  to  his  heart,  whispering  meanwhile, 
"Remeinber  that  we  must  see  each  other  in  private.  Send  some  one 
to  me  to  conduct  me  to  the  room  in  the  palace  which  you  call  your 
'asylum. '  " 

"How!"  said  the  queen  with  surprise,  "you  have  heard  of  my 
asylum?    Who  told  you  of  it?" 

"  Hush,  Antoinette,  you  will  awaken  the  king's  suspicion,  for  all 
eyes  are  upon  us  !     Will  you  admit  me?" 

"Yes,  I  will  send  Louis  to  conduct  you  this  afternoon."  And 
withdrawing  herself  from  her  brother's  arms,  the  queen  and  the 
royal  family  took  leave  of  Count  Falkenstein. 

His  carriages  and  suite  had  all  left  Paris,  and  Joseph,  too,  was 
supposed  to  have  gone  long  before  the  hour  when  he  was  conducted 
to  the  queen's  "asylum"  by  her  faithful  servant  Louis.  This 
"asylum"  was  in  an  obscure  corner  of  the  Tuileries,  and  to  reach  it 
the  emperor  was  introduced  into  the  palace  by  a  side  door.  He  was 
led  through  dark  passages  and  up  narrow  staircases  until  they 
reached  a  small  door  that  Louis  opened  with  a  key  which  he  took 
from  his  pocket.  He  clapped  his  hand  three  times,  and  the  signal 
being  answered,  he  made  a  profound  inclination  to  the  em- 
peror. 

"  Your  majesty  can  enter.     The  queen  is  there. " 

Josej:)!!  found  himself  in  a  small,  simple  apartment,  of  which  the 
furniture  was  of  white  wood  covered  with  chintz.  On  the  wall  was 
a  hanging  etagere  with  books ;  opposite,  an  open  harpsichord,  and 
in  the  recess  of  the  window,  a  table  covered  with  papers.  The  em- 
peror hastily  surveyed  this  room,  and  no  one  coming  forward,  he 
passed  into  another. 

Here  he  found  his  sister,  no  longer  the  magnificent  queen  whose 
rich  toilets  were  as  proverbial  as  her  beauty  ;  but  a  lovely,  unpre- 
tending woman,  without  rouge,  without  jewels,  clad  in  a  dress  of 
India  muslin,  which  was  confined  at  the  waist  by  a  simple  sash  of 
pale  lilac  ribbon. 

Marie  Antoinette  came  forward  with  both  hands  outstretched. 
"  I  am  dressed  as  is  my  custom, "  said  she,  "  when  the  few  friends  I 
possess  come  to  visit  me  here — here  in  my  asylum,  where  sometimes 
I  am  able  to  forget  that  I  am  Queen  of  France. " 

"You  have  no  right  ever  to  forget  it,  Antoinette,  and  it  was 
expressly  to  remind  you  of  this  that  I  asked  for  a  private  interview 
with  my  sister. " 

"You  wished  to  see  this  asylum  of  which  you  had  heard,  did  you 
not?"  asked  the  queen  with  a  shade  of  bitterness.  "I  have  been 
calumniated  to  you,  as  I  liave  been  to  the  king  and  to  the  French 
people.  I  know  how  my  enemies  are  trying  to  make  my  subjects 
hate  me  !    I  know  that  about  these  very  rooms,  lewd  songs  are  sung 


THE  PARTING.  465 

on  the  Pont-Neuf  which  make  the  Count  de  Provence  hold  his  sides 
witli  laughter.'' 

"  Yes,  Antoinette,  I  have  heard  these  things,  and  I  came  hither 
expressly  to  visit  this  'asylum. '  " 

"  Well,  Joseph,  it  is  before  you.  The  room  through  which  you 
passed,  and  this  one,  form  my  suite.  The  door  yonder  leads  to  the 
apartments  of  the  Princess  de  Lamballe,  and  I  have  never  opened  it 
to  enter  my  retreat  except  in  her  company. " 

"  You  had  never  the  right  to  enter  it  at  all.  A  retreat  of  this 
kind  is  improper  for  you  ;  and  woe  to  you,  Antoinette,  if  ever  an- 
otlier  man  beside  myself  should  cross  its  threshold  !  It  would  give 
a  coloring  of  truth  to  the  evil  reports  of  your  powerful  enemies. " 

"Gracious  God  of  Heaven!"  cried  the  queen,  pale  with  horror, 
"  what  do  they  say  of  me  ?" 

"  It  would  avail  you  nothing  to  repeat  their  calumnies,  poor  child. 
I  have  come  hither  to  warn  you  that  some  dark  cloud  hangs  over  the 
destiny  of  France.  You  must  seek  means  to  disperse  it,  or  it  will 
burst  and  destroy  both  you  and  your  husband. " 

"I  have  already  felt  a  presentiment  of  evil,  dear  brother,  and  for 
that  very  reason  I  come  to  these  little  simple  I'ooms  that  I  may  for  a 
few  hours  forget  the  destiny  that  awaits  me,  the  court  which  hates 
and  vilifies  me,  and  in  short — my  supremest,  my  greatest  sorrow — 
the  indiiference  of  my  husband. " 

"  Dear  sister,  you  are  wrong.  You  should  never  have  sought  to 
forget  these  things.  You  have  too  lightly  broken  down  the  barriers 
which  etiquette,  hundreds  of  years  ago,  had  built  around  the  Queens 
of  France." 

"This  from  you,  Joseph,  you  who  despise  all  etiquette  !" 

"Nay,  Antoinette,  I  am  a  man,  and  that  justifies  me  in  many  an 
indiscretion.  I  have  a  right  to  attend  an  opera-ball  unmasked,  but 
you  have  not. " 

"I  had  the  king's  permission,  and  was  attended  by  my  ladies  of 
honor,  and  the  princes  of  the  royal  family. " 

"  An  emperor  may  ride  in  a  hackney-coach  or  walk,  if  the  whim 
strike  him,  but  not  a  queen,  Antoinette. " 

"That  was  an  accident,  Joseph.  I  was  returning  from  a  ball 
with  the  Duchess  de  Duras,  when  our  carriage  broke,  and  Louis  was 
obliged  to  seek  a  hackney-coach  or  we  would  have  returned  to  the 
palace  on  foot. " 

"  Let  it  pass,  then.  An  emperor  or  a  king,  were  he  very  young, 
might  indulge  himself  in  a  game  of  blind  man's  buff  without  im- 
propriety ;  but  when  a  queen  ventures  to  do  as  much,  she  loses  her 
dignity.  Nevertheless,  you  have  been  known  to  romp  with  the  other 
ladies  of  the  court,  when  your  husband  had  gone  to  his  room  and 
was  sound  asleep. " 

"But  who  ever  went  to  bed  as  early  as  the  king?"  said  Marie 
Antoinette,  deprecatingly. 

"  Does  he  go  to  bed  too  early,  Antoinette?  Then  it  is  strange  that 
on  one  evening  when  you  were  waiting  for  him  to  retire  so  that  you 
and  your  ladies  might  visit  the  Duchess  de  Duras,  you  should  have 
advanced  the  clock  by  half  an  hour,  and  sent  your  husband  to  bed  at 
half-past  ten,  when  of  course  he  found  no  one  in  his  apartments  to 
wait  upon  him.*  All  Paris  has  laughed  at  this  mischievous  prank 
of  the  queen.     Can  you  deny  this,  my  thoughtless  sister?" 

*  Campan,  129. 


466  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"I  uever  tell  an  untruth,  Joseph  ;  but  I  confess  that  I  am  as- 
tounded to  see  with  what  police-like  dexterity  you  have  ferreted  out 
every  little  occurrence  of  my  private  life." 

"A  queen  has  no  private  life.  She  is  doomed  to  live  in  public, 
and  woe  to  her  if  she  cannot  account  to  the  world  for  every  hour  of 
her  existence !  If  she  undertake  to  have  secrets,  her  very  lackeys 
misrepresent  her  innocence  and  make  it  crime. " 

"Good  Heaven,  Joseph  !"  cried  the  queen,  "you  talk  as  if  I  were 
a  criminal  before  my  accusers." 

"You  are  a  criminal,  my  poor  young  sister.  Public  opinion  has 
accused  you ;  and  accusation  there  is  synonymous  with  guilt. 
But  I,  who  give  you  so  much  pain,  come  as  your  friend  and  brother, 
speaking  hard  truths  to  you,  dearest,  by  virtue  of  the  tie  which 
binds  us  to  our  mother.  In  the  name  of  that  incomparable  mother, 
I  implore  you  to  be  discreet,  and  to  give  no  cause  to  your  enemies 
for  misconstruction  of  your  youthful  follies.  Take  up  the  load  of 
your  royalty  with  fortitude  ;  and,  when  it  weighs  heavily  upon  your 
poor  young  heart,  remember  that  you  were  not  made  a  queen  to 
pursue  your  own  happiness,  but  to  strive  for  that  of  your  subjects, 
whose  hearts  are  still  with  you  in  spite  of  all  that  your  enemies  have 
done  or  said.  Give  up  all  egotism,  Antoinette — set  aside  your  per- 
sonal hopes ;  live  for  the  good  of  the  French  nation ;  and  one  of 
these  days  you  will  believe  with  me,  that  we  may  be  hapj^y  without 
individual  happiness." 

The  queen  shook  her  head,  and  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks. 
"No,  no,  dear  Joseph,  a  woman  cannot  be  happy  when  she  is  un- 
loved. My  heart  is  sick  with  solitude,  brother.  T  love  my  luisband 
and  he  does  not  return  my  love.  If  I  am  frivolous,  it  is  because  I 
am  unhappy.  Believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  all  would  be  well  if 
the  king  would  but  love  me." 

"  Then,  Antoinette,  all  shall  be  well, "  said  a  voice  behind  them  ; 
and,  starting  with  a  cry  of  surprise  and  shame,  the  queen  beheld  the 
king. 

"I  have  heard  all,"  said  Louis,  closing  the  door  and  advancing 
toward  Joseph.  Witli  a  bright,  affectionate  smile,  he  held  out  his 
hand,  saying  as  he  did,  "  Pardon  me,  my  brother,  if  I  am  here  with- 
out your  consent,  and  let  me  have  a  share  in  this  sacred  and  happy 
hour. " 

"Brother!"  repeated  Joseph,  sternly.  "You  say  that  you  have 
overheard  us.  If  so,  you  know  that  my  sister  is  solitary  and  un- 
liappy.  Since  you  have  no  love  for  her,  you  are  no  brother  to  me  ; 
for  she,  poor  child,  is  the  tie  that  unites  us  !  Look  at  her,  sire  ;  look 
at  her  sweet,  innocent,  tear-stricken  face  !  What  has  she  done  that 
you  should  tlirust  her  from  your  heart,  and  doom  her  to  confront, 
alone,  the  sneers  and  hatred  of  your  cruel  relatives?  She  is  pure, 
and  her  heart  is  without  a  stain.  I  tell  you  so — I,  who  in  unspeak- 
able anxiety  have  watched  her  througli  hired  spies.  Had  I  found 
her  guilty  I  wotild  have  been  the  first  to  condemn  her  ;  but  Antoi- 
nette is  good,  pure,  virtuous,  and  she  has  but  one  defect— want  of 
thought.  It  was  your  duty  to  guide  her,  for  you  received  her  from 
her  mother's  hands  a  child — a  young,  harmless,  imsuspecting  child. 
What  lias  she  ever  done  that  you  should  refuse  her  your  love?" 

"Ask,  rather,  what  have  I  done,  that  my  relatives  should  have 
kept  us  so  far  asunder?"  replied  Louis,  with  emotion.  "Ask  those 
who  have  poLsoned  my  ears  with  calunmies  of  my  wife,  why  they 


THE  PARTING.  4C7 

should  have  sought  to  deny  me  the  only  compensation  which  life  can 
offer  to  my  royal  station — the  inestimable  blessing  of  loving  and 
being  loved.  But  away  with  gloomy  retrospection  !  I  shall  say  but 
one  word  more  of  the  past.  Your  majesty  has  been  watched,  and 
your  visit  here  discovered.  I  was  told  that  you  were  seeking  to 
identify  the  queen  with  her  mother's  empire — using  your  influence 
to  make  her  forget  France,  and  plot  dishonor  to  her  husband's 
crown.  I  resolved  to  prove  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  these  accusa- 
tions myself.  I  thank  Heaven  that  I  did  so ;  for  from  this  hour 
I  shall  honor  and  regard  you  as  a  brother. " 

"  I  shall  reciprocate,  sire,  if  you  will  promise  to  be  kind  to  my 
sister?" 

The  king  looked  at  Marie  Antoinette,  who,  seated  on  the  sofa 
whence  her  brother  had  risen,  was  weeping  bitterly.  Louis  went 
toward  her,  and,  taking  both  her  hands  in  his,  pressed  them  passion- 
ately to  his  lips.  "  Antoinette, "  said  he,  tenderly,  "  you  say  that  I 
do  not  love  you.  You  have  not  then  read  mj^  heart,  which,  filled  to 
bursting  with  love  for  my  beautiful  wife,  dared  not  ask  for  response, 
because  I  had  been  told  that  you — you — but  no — I  will  not  pain  you 
with  repetition  of  the  calumny.  Enough  that  I  am  blessed  with  your 
love,  and  may  at  last  be  permitted  to  pour  out  the  torrent  of  mine  ! 
Antoinette,  will  you  be  my  wife?" 

He  held  open  his  arms,  and  looked — as  lovers  alone  can  look. 
Tlie  queen  well  knew  the  meaning  of  that  glance,  and,  with  a  cry  of 
joy,  she  rose  and  was  pressed  to  his  heart.  He  held  her  for  some 
moments  there,  and  then,  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  the  lips  of 
husband  and  wife  met  in  one  long,  burning  kiss  of  love. 

"  My  beloved,  my  own, "  whispered  Louis.  "  Mine  forever — noth- 
ing on  earth  shall  part  us  now. " 

Marie  Antoinette  was  speechless  with  happiness.  She  leaned  her 
head  upon  her  husband's  breast  and  wept  for  joy,  while  he  fondly 
stroked  and  kissed  her  shining  hair,  and  left  the  trace  of  a  tear  with 
every  kiss. 

Presently  he  turned  an  imploring  look  upon  the  emperor,  who 
stood  by,  contemplating  the  lovers  with  an  ecstasj'  to  which  he  had 
long  been  a  stranger. 

"  My  brother, "  said  Louis,  "  for  I  may  call  yovi  so  now — seven 
years  ago,  our  hands  were  joined  together  by  the  priest ;  but,  the 
policy  that  would  have  wounded  Austria  through  me,  has  kept  us 
asunder.  This  is  our  wedding-day,  this  is  the  union  of  love  with 
love.  Be  you  the  priest  to  bless  the  rites  that  make  us  one  till 
death. " 

The  emperor  came  forward,  and,  solemnly  laying  his  hands  upon 
the  heads  of  the  king  and  queen,  spoke  in  broken  accents  : 

"  God  bless  you,  beloved  brother  and  sister — God  give  you  grace 
to  be  true  to  each  other  through  good  and  evil  report.  Be  gentle 
and  indulgent  one  toward  the  other,  that,  from  this  day  forward, 
your  two  hearts  may  become  as  one  !  Farewell !  I  shall  take  with 
me  to  Austria  the  joyful  news  of  your  happiness.  Oh,  how  Maria 
Theresa  will  rejoice  to  know  it,  and  how  often  will  the  thought  of 
this  day  brighten  my  own  desolate  hearth  at  Vienna !    Farewell !" 


468  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    CXXI. 

DEATH  OF  THE  ELECTOR  OF  BAVARIA. 

A  LARGE  and  brilliant  assemblage  thronged  the  state  apartments 
of  the  imperial  palace  at  Vienna.  The  aristocracy  not  only  of  the 
capital,  but  of  all  Austria,  had  gathered  there  to  congratulate  the 
emperor  upon  his  safe  return. 

It  was  the  first  of  January,  1778,  and  as  New  Year's  day  was  the 
only  festival  which  Joseph's  new  ordinance  allowed,  the  court  took 
occasion  to  celebrate  it  with  all  the  pomp  of  embroidery,  orders, 
stars,  and  blazing  jewels. 

The  empress  had  never  thrown  off  her  mourning,  so  that  her  dark 
gray  dress  with  its  long  train  was  in  striking  contrast  with  the  rich, 
elegant  costumes,  the  flowers  and  diamonds  of  the  other  ladies  pres- 
ent. Still,  there  was  something  in  this  tall,  noble  form  which 
distinguished  it  above  the  rest,  and  spoke  to  all  beholders  of  the 
sovereign  will  that  resided  there.  Maria  Theresa  was  still  the 
naajestic  empress — biit  she  was  now  an  old  woman. 

Time  as  well  as  disease  had  marred  her  beauty,  and  the  cares, 
anxieties,  and  afiflictious  of  sixty  years  had  written  their  inexorable 
record  upon  the  tablet  of  her  once  fair  brow.  Not  only  these,  but 
accident  also  had  destroyed  the  last  lingering  traces  of  Maria 
Theresa's  youthful  comeliness.  Returning  from  Pi-esburg,  she  had 
been  thrown  from  her  carriage,  and  dashed  with  such  force  against 
the  stones  on  the  road,  that  she  had  been  taken  up  bloody,  and,  to 
all  appearances,  lifeless.  Her  face  had  suffered  severely,  and  to  her 
death  she  bore  the  deep-red  sears  which  had  been  left  by  her  wounds. 
Her  figure,  too,  had  lost  its  grace,  and  was  now  so  corpulent  that 
she  moved  slowly  and  heavily  through  the  rooms,  where,  in  former 
years,  she  had  stood  by  the  side  of  her  "  Francis, "  the  most  beautiful 
woman  of  her  own  or  of  any  European  court. 

Her  magnificent  eyes,  however,  had  defied  time,  they  were  large, 
flashing,  expressive  as  ever — as  quick  to  interpret  anger,  enthusi- 
asm, or  tenderness  as  in  the  days  of  her  youth. 

On  the  evening  of  which  we  speak,  the  empress  was  at  the  card- 
table.  But  those  great,  glowing  eyes  were  roving  from  one  side  of 
the  room  to  the  other  in  restless  anxiety.  Sometimes,  for  a 
moment,  they  rested  upon  the  emperor  who  was  standing  near  the 
table  in  conversation  with  some  provincial  nobleixian.  The  cheerful 
and  unconcerned  demeanor  of  her  son  seemed  to  reassure  the  em- 
press, who  turned  to  her  cards,  and  tried  to  become  interested  in  the 
game.  Not  far  off,  the  archduchesses,  too,  were  at  card:?,  and  the 
hum  of  conversation  subsided  almost  to  a  whisper,  that  the  imperial 
party  might  not  be  disturbed.  Gradually  the  empress  became 
absorbed  in  her  cards,  so  that  she  was  unobservant  of  the  entrance 
of  one  of  the  emperor's  lords  in  waiting,  who  whispered  something 
in  Joseph's  ear,  wliereupon  the  latter  left  the  room  in  haste. 

Not  very  long  after  the  emperor  returned  pale  and  excited,  and 
approached  the  card-tables.  Maria  Theresa,  at  that  moment,  had 
just  requested  Count  Dietrichstein  to  deal  for  her,  and  she  was  lean- 
ing l)ack  in  her  chair,  awaiting  tlie  end  of  the  deal. 

The  (■iiq)er(>r  bent  over  and  wliispered  something  in  her  ear,  when 
she  started,  and  the  cards,  which  she  was  just  gathering,  fell  from 


DEATH  OF  THE  ELECTOR  OF  BAVARIA.  469 

her  hands.  With  unusual  agility  she  rose,  and  taking  the  emperor's 
arm,  turned  away  without  a  word  of  apology,  and  left  the  room. 

The  archduchesses  had  not  yet  perceived  their  mother's  absence, 
when  Count  Dietrichstein,  on  the  part  of  the  emperor,  came  for- 
ward, and  whispered  a  few  words  to  each  one  of  them.  Precisely 
as  their  mother  had  done  the  princesses  rose,  and  without  apology 
retired  together. 

The  company  started,  and  whispered  and  wondered  what  could 
have  happened  to  discompose  the  imperial  family  ;  but  no  one  pres- 
ent was  competent  to  solve  the  mystery. 

Meanwhile  Maria  Theresa  had  retired  to  her  cabinet,  where  she 
met  Prince  Kaunitz,  furred  like  a  polar  bear,  by  way  of  protection 
from  the  temperature  of  the  palace,  which  was  always  many  degrees 
below  zero,  as  indicated  by  the  thermometer  of  his  thin,  bloodless 
veins.  The  minister  was  shaking  with  cold,  altliough  he  had  buried 
his  face  in  a  muff  large  enough  to  have  been  one  of  his  own  cubs. 

The  empress  returned  his  greeting  with  an  agitated  wave  of  her 
hand,  and  seated  herself  in  an  arm-chair  at  the  large  round  table 
that  always  stood  there. 

Exhausted  by  the  unusual  haste  with  which  she  had  walked  as 
well  as  by  the  excitement,  which,  in  her  old  age,  she  was  physically 
inadequate  to  bear,  she  leaned  back  to  recover  her  breath.  Opposite 
stood  the  emperor,  who,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  motioned  to 
Kaunitz  to  enter  also. 

Maria  Theresa's  large  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him  at  once. 

"  Is  it  true, "  said  she,  "  that  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  is  dead?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty,"  said  Kaunitz.  "Maximilian  reigns  no 
longer  in  Bavaria.  Here  are  tlie  dispatches  from  our  ambassador  at 
Munich. " 

He  held  them  out,  but  the  empress  put  them  back,  saying  : 

"  I  am  not  sufficiently  composed  to  read  them.  Give  them  to  my 
son,  and  have  the  goodness  to  communicate  their  contents  to  me 
verbally. " 

The  face  of  Kaunitz  grew  pale,  as  he  turned  with  the  dispatches 
to  the  emperor.  The  latter  at  once  comprehended  the  prince's  agi- 
tation, and  smiled. 

"I  beg  of  your  majesty,"  said  he,  "to  excuse  the  prince,  and  to 
allow  me  to  read  to  you  the  particulars  of  Maximilian's  demise. 
His  highness  must  be  fatigued,  and,  doubtless,  your  majesty  will 
allow  him  to  retire  within  the  embrasure  of  yonder  window,  until 
I  have  concluded  the  perusal  of  the  dispatches. " 

Kaunitz  brightened  at  once  as  the  empress  gave  her  consent,  and 
he  gladly  withdrew  to  the  window  which  was  far  enough  from  the 
table  to  be  out  of  reach  of  the  emperor's  voice. 

Joseph  could  not  restrain  another  smile  as  he  watched  the  tall, 
stiff  form  of  the  old  prince,  and  saw  how  carefully  he  drew  the 
window  curtains  around  him,  lest  a  word  of  what  was  going  on 
should  reach  his  ears. 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty, "  said  Jo.seph,  in  a  low  voice,  "but 
you  know  what  a  horror  Kaunitz  has  of  death  and  tlie  small-pox. 
As  both  these  words  form  the  subject  of  our  dispatches,  I  was  glad 
to  relieve  the  prince  from  the  necessity  of  repeating  tlieir  contents." 

"  That  you  should  have  remembered  his  weakness  does  honor  to 
your  heart,  my  son,"  replied  Maria  Theresa.  "In  my  agitation  I 
had  forgotten  it.     Maximilian,  then,  must  have  died  of  small-pox. " 


470  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"He  did,  your  majesty,  like  his  sister,  my  unhappy  wife. " 

"Strange!"  said  Maria  Theresa,  thoughtfully.  "Josepha  has 
often  spoken  to  me  of  the  presentiment  which  her  brother  had  that 
he  would  die  of  the  small-pox. " 

'■  It  proves  to  us  that  man  cannot  fly  from  his  destiny.  The  elec- 
tor foresaw  that  he  would  die  of  small-iiox,  and  took  every  precau- 
tion to  avert  his  fate.     Nevertheless,  it  overtook  him. " 

The  empress  sighed  and  slowly  shook  her  head.  "  Where  did  he 
take  the  infection?"  asked  she. 

"From  the  daughter  of  the  marshal  of  his  household,  who 
lived  at  the  palace,  and  took  the  small-pox  there.  Every  attemi:)t 
was  made  to  conceal  the  fact  from  the  elector,  and  indeed  he  re- 
mained in  total  ignorance  of  it.  One  day  while  he  was  playing  bill- 
iards, the  marshal,  who  had  just  left  his  daughter's  bedside,  entered 
tlie  room.  The  elector,  shuddering,  laid  down  his  cue,  and  turning 
deathly  pale,  murmured  these  words :  '  Some  one  liere  has  the 
small-pox.  I  feel  it. '  He  then  fell  insensible  on  the  floor.  He 
recovered  his  consciousness,  but  died  a  few  days  afterward.  *  This  is 
the  substance  of  the  disi^atches.     Shall  I  now  read  them?" 

"  No,  no,  my  sou,  "  said  the  empress,  gloomily.  "  Enough  that 
the  son  of  my  enemy  is  dead,  and  his  house  without  an  heir. " 

"Yes,  he  is  dead,"  replied  Joseph,  sternly.  "The  brother  of  my 
enemy — ^of  that  wife  with  whom  for  two  years  I  lived  the  martyr- 
dom of  an  abhorred  union  !  He  has  gone  to  his  sister,  gone  to  his 
father,  both  our  bitter,  bitter  foes.  I  hated  Josepha  for  the  humili- 
ation I  endured  as  the  husband  of  such  a  repulsive  woman  ;  but  to- 
day I  forgive  her,  for  'tis  she  who  from  the  grave  holds  out  to  me 
the  rich  inheritance  which  is  the  fruit  of  our  marriage. " 

The  empress  raised  her  eyes  with  an  expression  of  alarm. 

"  What !"  exclaimed  she,  "  another  robbery  !  Lies  not  the  weight 
of  one  injustice  upon  my  conscience,  that  you  would  seek  to  burden 
my  soul  with  another  !  Tliink  you  that  I  have  forgotten  Poland  ! — 
No  !  The  remembrance  of  our  common  crime  will  follow  me  to  the 
bitter  end,  and  it  shall  not  be  aggravated  by  repetition.  I  ana  em- 
press of  Austria,  and  while  I  live,  Joseph,  yovi  must  restrain  your 
ambition  within  the  bounds  of  justice  and  princely  honor. " 

The  emperor  bowed.  "Your  majesty  must  confess  that  I  have 
never  struggled  against  your  imperial  will.  I  liave  bowed  before  it, 
sorely  though  it  has  humiliated  me.  Bvit  as  there  is  no  longer  any 
question  of  death  before  us,  allow  me  to  recall  Prince  Kaunitz,  that 
he  may  take  part  in  our  discussion." 

Maria  Theresa  bowed  in  silence,  and  the  emperor  drew  the  min- 
ister from  his  retreat  behind  the  curtains. 

"  Come,  your  highness, "  whispered  Joseph.  "  Come  and  convince 
the  empress  that  Bavaria  must  be  ours.  We  are  about  to  have  a 
struggle. " 

"  But  I  shall  come  out  victor, "  replied  Kaunitz,  as  he  rose  and  re- 
turned to  the  table. 

Maria  Tlieresa  surveyed  them  both  with  looks  of  disapprobation 
and  apprehension.  "I  see, "said  she,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "that 
you  are  two  against  one.  I  do  not  think  it  honorable  in  Kaunitz 
to  uphold  my  son  against  his  sovereign.  Tell  me,  prince,  do  you  come 
liither  to  break  your  faith,  and  overthrow  your  empress?" 

"There  lives  not  man  or  woman  in  the  world  who  can  accuse 
*  Wraxall,  "  Memo  ire  of  the  Courts  of  Berlin,  Vienna,  etc.,"  vol.  i.,  p.  306. 


DEATH  OF  THE  ELECTOR  OF  BAVARIA.  471 

Kaunitz  of  bad  faith, "  replied  the  prince.  "I  swore  years  ago  to 
dedicate  myself  to  Austria,  and  I  shall  keep  my  word  until  your 
majesty  releases  me. " 

"I  suppose  that  is  one  of  your  numerous  threats  to  resign,"  said 
the  empress,  with  irritation.  "If  there  is  difference  of  opinion 
between  us,  I  must  yield,  or  you  will  not  remain  my  minister.  But 
be  sure  that  to  the  last  day  of  my  life  I  shall  retain  my  sovereignty, 
nor  share  it  with  son  or  minister  ;  and  this  conceded,  we  may  confer 
together.  Let  the  emperor  sit  by  my  side,  and  you,  prince,  be 
opposite  to  us,  for  I  wish  to  look  into  your  face  that  I  may  judge 
how  far  your  tongue  expresses  the  convictions  of  your  conscience. 
And  now  I  desire  the  emperor  to  explain  his  words,  and  tell  me  how 
it  is  that  the  succession  of  Bavaria  concerns  the  house  of  Hapsburg. " 

"Frankly,  then,"  cried  Joseph,  with  some  asperity,  "I  mean  that 
our  troops  must  be  marched  into  Bavaria  at  once  ;  for  by  the  ex- 
tinction of  the  male  line  of  V/ittelsbach,  the  electorate  is  open  to  us 
as  an  imperial  fief,  and — " 

"Austria,  then,  has  pretensions  to  the  electorate  of  Bavaria," 
interrupted  Maria  Theresa,  with  constrained  calmness. 

The  emperor  in  his  turn  looked  at  his  mother  with  astonishment. 
"  Has  your  majesty,  then,  not  read  the  documents  Mdiich  were  drawn 
up  for  your  insi^ection  by  the  court  historiographer?" 

"  I  have  seen  them  all, "  replied  the  empress,  sadly.  "  I  have  read 
all  the  documents  by  which  you  have  sought  to  prove  that  Austria 
has  claims  upon  Lower  Bavaria,  because,  in  1410,  the  Emperor  Sigis- 
muud  enfeoffed  his  son-in-law,  Albert  of  Austria,  with  this  prov- 
ince. I  have  read  further  that  in  1614  the  Emperor  Matthias  gave  to 
the  archducal  house  the  reversion  of  the  Suabian  estate  of  Mindel- 
heim,  which  subsequently,  in  1706,  when  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  fell 
under  the  ban  of  the  empire,  was  actually  claimed  by  the  Emperor 
of  Austria.  I  have  also  learned  that  the  tipper  Palatinate,  with  all 
its  counties,  by  the  extinction  of  the  Wittelsbach  dynasty,  becomes 
an  open  feoff,  to  which  the  Emperor  of  Austi'ia  thinks  that  he  may 
assert  his  claims. " 

"And  your  majesty  is  not  convinced  of  the  validity  of  my 
claims?"  exclaimed  the  emperor. 

Maria  Theresa  shook  her  head.  "I  cannot  believe  that  we  are 
justified  in  annexing  to  Austria  an  electorate  which,  not  being  ours 
by  indisjnttable  right  of  inheritance,  may  be  the  cause  of  involving 
us  in  a  bloody  war." 

"  But  which,  nevertheless,  is  the  finest  province  in  all  Germany, " 
cried  Joseph  impatiently  ;  "and  its  acquisition  the  first  step  toward 
consolidation  of  all  the  German  principalities  into  one  great  empire. 
When  the  Palatinate,  Suabia,  and  Lower  Bavaria  are  ours,  the 
Danube  will  flow  through  Austrian  territory  alone  ;  the  trade  of  the 
Levant  becomes  ours ;  our  ships  cover  the  Black  Sea,  and  finally 
Constantinople  will  be  compelled  to  open  its  harbor  to  Austrian  ship- 
ping and  become  a  mart  for  the  disposal  of  Austrian  merchandise. 
Once  possessed  of  Bavaria,  South  Germany,  too,  lies  open  to  Austria, 
which  like  a  magnet  will  draw  toward  one  centre  all  its  petty  prov- 
inces and  counties.  After  that,  we  approach  Prussia,  and  ask 
whether  she  alone  will  stand  apart  from  the  great  federation,  or 
whether  she  has  patriotism  and  magnanimity  enough  to  merge  her 
name  and  nationality  in  ours.  Oh,  your  majesty,  I  implore  you  do 
not  hesitate  to  pluck  the  golden  fruit,  for  it  is  ours !     Think,  too, 

31 


4:7^  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

how  anxiously  the  Bavarians  look  to  us  for  protection  against  the 
pretensions  of  Charles  Theodore,  the  only  heir  of  the  deceased  elector. 
The  people  of  Bavaria  well  know  what  is  to  be  their  fate  if  they  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  elector  palatine.  Surrounded  by  mistresses 
with  swarms  of  natural  children,  his  sole  object  in  life  will  be  to 
plunder  his  subjects  that  he  may  enrich  a  progeny  to  whom  he  can 
leave  neither  name  nor  crown.  Oh,  your  majesty,  be  generous,  and 
rescue  the  Bavarians  from  a  war  of  succession  ;  for  the  elector  pala- 
tine has  no  heir,  and  his  death  will  be  the  signal  for  new  strife. " 

"  Nay,  it  seems  to  me  that  tlie  Duke  of  Zweibriicken  *  is  the  natu- 
ral heir  of  Charles  Theodore,  and  I  suppose  he  will  be  found  as  willing 
to  possess  his  inheritance  as  you  or  I,  or  any  other  pretender," 
replied  Maria  Theresa.  "  But  if,  as  you  say,  the  Bavarians  are  sigh- 
ing to  become  Austrian  subjects,  it  seems  to  me  that  they  might 
have  character  enougli  to  give  us  some  indication  of  their  predilec- 
tions ;  for  I  declare  to  you  both  that  I  will  not  imitate  the  treachery 
of  Frederick.  I  will  not  bring  up  mouldy  documents  from  our 
imperial  archives  to  prove  that  I  have  a  right  to  lands  which  for 
hundreds  of  years  have  been  the  property  of  another  race  ;  nor  will 
I,  for  mad  ambition's  sake,  spill  one  drop  of  honest  Austrian  blood. " 

"And  so  will  Austria  lose  her  birthright,"  returned  Joseph 
angrily.  "And  so  shall  I  be  doomed  to  idle  insignificance,  while 
history  ignores  the  only  man  who  really  loves  Germany,  and  who 
has  spirit  to  defy  the  malice  of  his  contemporaries,  and  in  the  face 
of  their  disapproval,  to  do  that  which  is  best  for  Germany's  welfare. 
Is  it  possible  that  your  majesty  will  put  upon  me  this  new  Immilia- 
tion  ?  Do  you  really  bid  me  renounce  the  brightest  dream  of  mv 
life?" 

"My  dear  son,"  said  the  empress,  "I  cannot  view  this  undertak- 
ing with  your  eyes  ;  I  am  old  and  timid,  and  I  slmdder  with  appre- 
hension of  the  demon  that  follows  in  the  wake  of  ambition.  I  would 
not  descend  to  my  grave  amid  the  wails  and  curses  of  my  people— 
I  would  not  be  depicted  in  history  as  an  ambitious  and  unscrupulous 
sovereign.  Let  me  go  to  my  Franz  blessed  by  the  tears  and  regrets 
of  my  subjects— let  me  appear  before  posterity  as  an  upright  and 
peace-loving  empress.  But  I  have  said  that  I  am  old— so  old  that  I 
mistrust  my  own  judgment.  It  may  be  that  I  mistake  pusillanim- 
ity for  disinterestedness.  Speak,  Kauuitz— so  far  you  have  been 
silent.  What  says  ?/o«r  conscience  to  this  claim!'  Is  it  consistent 
with  justice  and  honor?" 

"Your  majesty  knows  that  I  will  speak  my  honest  convictions 
even  though  they  might  be  unacceptable  to  the  ear  of  my  sovereign, " 
replied  Kaunitz. 

"I  understand,"  said  the  empress,  disconsolately.  "You  are  of 
one  mind  with  the  emperor." 

"Yes,"  replied  Kaunitz,  "I  am.  It  is  the  duty  of  Austria  to 
assert  her  right  to  an  inlieritance  whicli  her  ancestors  foresaw,  hun- 
dreds of  years  ago,  would  be  indispensable  to  her  future  stability. 
Not  only  your  majesty's  forefathers,  but  tlie  force  of  circumstances 
signify  to  us  that  the  acquisition  is  natural  and  easy.  It  would  be 
a  great  political  error  to  overlook  it;  and  believe  me  that  in  no 
science  is  an  error  so  fatal  to  him  who  commits  it  as  in  the  science 
of  government.  Bavaria  is  necessary  to  Austria,  and  your  majesty 
may  become  its  ruler  without  so  nuich  as  one  stroke  of  the  sword." 
*  Called  iu  Euglish  history,  Uukoof  Deux-ponts. —Trans. 


DEATH  OF  THE  ELECTOR  OF  BAVARIA.  473 

"  Without  a  stroke  of  the  sword  !"  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  im- 
petuously. "Does  your  highness  suppose  that  such  a  stupendous 
acquisition  as  that,  is  not  to  provoke  the  opposition  of  our 
enemies?" 

"Who  is  to  oppose  us?"  asked  Kaunitz.  "Not  France,  certainly  ; 
she  is  too  closely  our  relative  and  ally." 

"  I  do  not  rely  much  upon  the  friendship  of  France, "  interrupted 
the  empress.  Marie  Antoinette  is  mistress  of  the  kings  affections  ; 
but  his  ministers  guide  his  policy,  and  they  would  gladly  see  our 
friendly  relations  ruj^tured." 

"But  France  is  not  in  a  condition  to  o^^pose  us,"  continued  Kau- 
nitz. "Her  finances  are  disordered,  and  at  this  very  moment  she  is 
equipping  an  army  to  aid  the  American  rebellion.  We  have  nothing 
to  fear  from  Russia,  provided  we  overlook  her  doings  in  Turkeyj  and 
look  away  while  she  absorbs  the  little  that  remains  of  Poland.  Eng- 
land is  too  far  away  to  be  interested  in  the  matter,  and  Frederick 
knows  by  dear-bought  experience  that  her  alliance,  in  case  of  war, 
is  perfectly  worthless.  Besides,  George  has  quite  enough  on  his 
hands  with  his  troubles  in  North  America.  Who,  then,  is  to  pre- 
vent us  from  mai'ching  to  Bavaria  and  taking  peaceable  possession 
of  our  lawful  inheritance?" 

"Who?"  exclaimed  the  empress.  "Our  greatest  and  bitterest 
enemy — the  wicked  and  unprincipled  parvenu  who  has  cost  me  so 
many  tears,  my  people  so  many  lives,  and  who  has  robbed  me  of  one 
of  the  fairest  jewels  in  my  imperial  crown. " 

Kaunitz  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Your  majesty  is  very  mag- 
nanimous to  speak  of  the  Margrave  of  Brandenburg  as  a  dangerous 
foe." 

"  And  if  he  were  a  dangerous  foe, "  cried  Joseph  vehemently,  "  so 
much  the  more  glory  to  me  if  I  vanquish  him  in  battle  and  pluck  the 
laurels  from  his  head  !" 

Kaunitz  looked  at  the  emperor  and  slightly  raised  his  finger  by 
way  of  warning.  "The  King  of  Prussia,"  said  he,  "  is  no  longer  the 
hero  that  he  was  in  years  gone  by  ;  he  dare  not  risk  his  fame  by  giv- 
ing battle  to  the  emperor.  He  rests  upon  his  laurels,  plays  on  the 
flute,  writes  bad  verses,  and  listens  to  the  adulation  of  his  fawning 
philosophical  friends.  Then  why  should  he  molest  us  in  Bavaria? 
We  have  documents  to  prove  that  the  heritage  is  ours,  and  if  we 
recognize  his  right  to  Bayreuth  and  Anspach,  he  will  admit  ours  to 
whatever  we  choose  to  claim." 

Maria  Theresa  was  unconvinced.  "  You  make  light  of  Frederick, 
prince  ;  but  he  is  as  dangei'ous  as  ever,  and  after  all  I  think  it  much 
safer  to  fear  our  enemies  than  to  despise  them. " 

"  Frederick  of  Pi'ussia  is  a  hero,  a  philosopher,  and  a  legislator, " 
cried  Joseph.  "  Let  me  give  him  battle,  your  majesty,  that  I  may 
win  honor  by  vanquishing  the  victor. " 

"Never  will  I  give  my  consent  to  such  measures,  unless  we  are 
forced  to  adopt  them  in  defence  of  right. " 

"Our  right  here  is  indisputable,"  interposed  Kaunitz.  "Copies 
of  our  documents  have  already  been  circulated  throughout  Germany  ; 
and  I  have  received  from  Herr  von  Ritter,  the  commissioner  of 
Charles  Theodore,  the  assurance  that  the  latter  is  ready  to  resign  his 
pretensions  in  consideration  of  the  advantages  we  offer. "   ■ 

"What  are  these  advantages?"  askei  Maria  Theresa. 

"  We  offer  him  our  provinces  in  the  Netherlands,  and  the  privi- 


474  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

lege  of  establishing  a  kingdom  in  Burgundy, "  replied  Joseph.  "  We 
also  bestow  upon  his  multitudinous  children  titles,  orders,  and  a 
million  of  florins." 

"  And  shame  all  virtue  and  decency  !"  cried  the  empress,  coloring 
violently. 

"The  elector  loves  his  progeny,  and  cares  little  or  nothing  for 
Bavaria, "  continued  Joseph.  "  We  shall  win  him  over,  and  Bavaria 
will  certainly  be  ours. " 

"Without  the  shedding  of  one  drop  of  blood,"  added  Kaimitz, 
drawing  from  his  coat-pocket  a  paper  which  he  unfolded  and  laid 
upon  the  table. 

"Here  is  a  map  of  Bavaria,  your  majesty,"  said  Kaunitz,  "and 
here  is  that  portion  of  the  electorate  which  we  claim,  through  its 
cession  to  Albert  of  Austria  by  the  Emperor  Sigismimd." 

"  We  must  take  possession  of  it  at  once, "  cried  Joseph  ;  "  at  once, 
before  any  other  claimant  has  time  to  interpose." 

The  empress  heaved  a  sigh.  "  Yes, "  said  she,  as  if  communing 
with  herself,  "  it  all  looks  smooth  and  fair  on  paper.  It  is  very  easy 
to  draw  boundary  lines  with  your  finger,  prince.  You  have  ti-aced 
out  mountains  and  rivers,  but  you  have  not  won  the  hearts  of  the 
Bavarians ;  and  without  their  hearts  it  is  worse  than  useless  to 
occupy  their  country." 

"  We  shall  win  their  hearts  by  kindness, "  exclaimed  the  emperor. 
"True,  we  take  their  insignificant  fatherland,  but  we  give  them  in- 
stead, the  rich  inheritance  of  our  own  nationality  ;  and  future 
history  will  record  it  to  their  honor  that  theirs  was  the  initiatory 
step  which  subsequently  made  one  nation  of  all  the  little  nationali- 
ties of  Germany. " 

The  empress  answered  with  another  sigh,  and  looked  absently  at 
the  outspread  map,  across  which  Kaunitz  was  drawing  his  finger  in 
another  direction. 

"  Here, "  said  he,  "  are  the  estates  which  the  extinct  house  held  in 
fief  from  the  German  emperor. " 

"And  which  I,  as  Emperor  of  Germany,  have  a  right  to  reannex 
to  my  empire, "  cried  Joseph. 

"And  here,  finally,"  pursued  Kaunitz,  still  tracing  with  his 
finger,  "here  is  the  lordship  of  Mindelheim,  of  which  the  reversion 
was  not  only  ceded  to  Austria  by  the  Emperor  Matthias,  but  actually 
fell  to  us  and  was  relinquished  to  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  by  the  too 
great  magnanimity  of  an  Austrian  sovereign.  Surely,  your  majesty 
is  not  willing  to  abandon  your  inheritance  to  the  first  comer?" 

Maria  Theresa's  head  was  bent  so  low  that  it  rested  upon  the 
map  whereon  her  minister  had  been  drawing  lines  of  such  signifi- 
cance to  Austria.  Close  by,  stood  the  emperor  in  breathless  anxiety ; 
while  opposite  sat  Kaunitz,  impassable  as  ever. 

Again  a  deep  sigh  betokened  the  anguish  that  was  rending  the 
honest  heart  of  the  empress  ;  and  she  raised  her  head. 

"Alas  for  me  and  my  declining  energies!"  said  she,  bitterly. 
"  Two  against  one,  and  that  one  a  woman  advanced  in  years  !  I  am 
not  convinced,  but  my  spirit  is  unequal  to  strife.  Should  we  fail, 
we  will  be  made  to  feel  the  odium  of  our  proceedings ;  should  we 
triumph,  I  suppose  that  the  justice  of  our  pretensions  will  never  be 
questioned.  Perhaps,  as  the  world  has  never  blamed  Frederick  for 
the  robbery  of  Silesia,  it  may  forgive  us  the  acquisition  of  Bavaria. 
In  the  name  of  God,  then,  do  both  of  you  what  you  deem  it  right  to 


A  PAGE  I'ROM  HISTORY.  475 

do  ;  but  in  mercy,  take  nothing  that  is  not  ours.  "We  shall  be  in- 
volved in  war  ;  I  feel  it,  and  I  would  so  gladly  have  ended  my  life 
in  the  calm,  moon-like  radiance  of  gentle  peace. "  * 

"  Your  majesty  shall  end  your  life  in  peace  and  prosperity  ;  but 
far  in  the  future  be  the  day  of  your  departure  !"  cried  Joseph,  kiss- 
ing the  hand  of  the  empress.  "  May  you  live  to  see  Austria  expand 
into  a  great  empire,  and  Germany  rescued  from  the  misrule  of  its 
legions  of  feeble  princes  !  The  first  impulse  has  been  given  to-day. 
Bavaria  is  rescued  from  its  miserable  fate,  and  becomes  an  integral 
portion  of  one  of  the  most  powei'ful  nations  in  Europe. " 

"  May  God  be  merciful,  and  bless  the  union  !"  sighed  the  empress. 
"  I  shall  be  wretched  until  I  know  how  it  is  to  terminate,  and  day 
and  night  I  sliall  pray  to  the  Lord  that  He  preserve  my  people  from 
the  horrors  of  war. " 

"  Meanwhile  Kavmitz  and  I  will  seek  a  blessing  on  our  enterprise 
by  taking  earthly  precautions  to  secure  its  success.  You,  prince, 
will  use  the  quill  of  diplomacy,  and  I  shall  make  ready  to  defend  my 
right  with  a  himdred  thousand  trusty  Austrians  to  back  me.  To- 
night I  march  a  portion  of  my  men  into  Lower  Bavaria. " 

"  Oh, "  murmured  the  unhappy  empress,  "  there  will  be  war  and 
bloodshed !" 

"Before  your  majesty  marches  to  Bavaria,"  said  Kaunitz,  inclin- 
ing his  head,  "  her  majesty,  the  empress,  must  sign  the  edict  which 
shall  apprise  her  subjects  and  the  world  of  the  step  we  meditate.  I 
have  drawn  it  up,  and  it  awaits  her  majesty's  approbation  and 
signature. " 

The  prince  then  drew  from  his  muff  a  paper,  which  he  presented 
to  the  empress.     Maria  Theresa  perused  it  with  sorrowful  eyes. 

"  It  is  nothing  but  a  resume  of  our  just  claims  to  Bavaria, "  said 
Joseph,  hastily. 

"It  is  very  easy  to  prove  the  justice  of  a  thing  on  paper, "  replied 
Maria  Theresa ;  "  may  God  grant  that  it  prove  t^  be  so  in  deed  as 
well  as  in  word.  I  will  do  your  bidding,  and  sign  your  edict,  but 
upon  your  head  be  all  the  blood  that  follows  my  act !" 

She  wrote  her  name,  and  Joseph,  in  an  outburst  of  triumph, 
shouted,  "Bavaria  is  ours  !" 


CHAPTER    CXXII. 

A     PAGE     FROM     HISTORY. 

Maria  Theresa's  worst  apprehensions  were  realized,  and  the 
marching  of  the  Austrian  troops  into  Bavaria  was  the  signal  for 
war.  While  all  the  petty  sovereigns  of  Germany  clamored  over  the 
usurpation  of  Austria,  pamphlet  upon  pamphlet  issued  from  the 
hands  of  Austrian  jurists  to  justify  the  act.  These  were  replied  to 
by  the  advocates  of  every  other  German  state,  who  proved  con- 
clusively that  Austria  was  rapacious  and  unscrupulous,  and  had  not 
a  shadow  of  right  to  the  Bavarian  succession.  A  terrible  paper  war 
ensued,  during  which  three  hundred  books  were  launched  by  the 
belligerents  at  each  other's  heads. f  This  sti-ife  was  productive  of 
one  good  result ;  it  warmed  up  the  frozen  patriotism  of  all  the  Ger- 

*The  empress's  own  sentiments.    Wraxall,  i.,  p.  311. 

t  Schlosser's  History  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  vol.  iv.,  p.  363. 


476  JOSEPH  II.   AND   HIS  COURT. 

man  races.  Bavarians,  Hessians,  Wurtembergers,  and  Hanoverians, 
forgot  their  bickerings  to  join  the  outcry  against  Austria  ;  and  the 
Church,  to  which  Joseph  was  such  an  implacable  enemy,  encouraged 
them  in  their  resistance  to  the  "  innovator, "  as  he  was  called  by  his 
enemies. 

Of  all  the  malcontents,  the  noisiest  were  the  Bavarians.  The 
elector  palatine,  whose  advent  all  had  dreaded,  was  greeted  upon 
his  entrance  into  Munich  with  glowing  enthusiasm  ;  and  the  people 
forgot  his  extravagance  and  profligacy  to  remember  that  upon  him 
devolved  the  preservation  of  their  independence  as  a  nation. 

Bvit  Charles  Theodore  was  very  little  edified  by  the  sentiments 
which  were  attributed  to  him  by  the  Bavarians.  He  longed  for 
nothing  better  than  to  relieve  himself  of  Bavaria  and  the  weight  of 
Austrian  displeasure,  to  return  to  the  palatinate,  and  come  into  pos- 
session of  the  flesh-pots  that  awaited  his  children  in  the  form  of 
titles,  orders,  and  florins.  He  lent  a  willing  ear  to  Joseph's  propo- 
sitions, and  a  few  days  after  liis  triumphant  entrance  into  Munich, 
he  signed  a  contract  relinquishing  in  favor  of  Austria  two-thirds  of 
his  Bavarian  inheritance.  Maria  Theresa,  in  the  joy  of  her  heart, 
bestowed  upon  him  the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  on  January 
3,  1778,  entered  into  possession  of  her  newly  acquired  territory. 

Meanwhile,  in  Bavaria,  arose  a  voice  which,  with  the  fire  of 
genuine  patriotism,  protested  against  the  cowa»dly  compliance  of 
the  elector  palatine.  It  was  that  of  the  Duchess  Clemens,  of  Ba- 
varia. She  hastened  to  give  information  of  his  pusillanimity  to  the 
next  heir,  the  Duke  of  Zweibriickeu,  and  dispatched  a  courier  to 
Berlin  asking  succor  and  pi'otection  from  the  crown  of  Prussia. 

The  energy  of  this  Bavarian  patriot  decided  the  fate  of  the  Aus- 
trian claim.  The  Duke  of  Zweibriicken  protested  against  the  ces- 
sion of  the  smallest  portion  of  his  future  inheritance,  and  declared 
that  he  would  never  relinquish  it  to  any  power  on  earth.  Frederick 
pronounced  himself  ready  to  sustain  the  duke,  and  threatened  a 
declaration  of  war  unless  the  A  ustrian  troops  were  removed.  In  vain 
Maria  Theresa  sought  to  indemnify  the  duke  by  offers  of  orders, 
florins,  and  titles,  which  had  been  so  successful  with  Charles  Theo- 
dore— in  vain  she  offered  to  make  him  King  of  Burgundy — he  re- 
mained incorruptible.  He  coveted  nothing  she  could  bestow,  but 
was  firm  in  his  purpose  to  preserve  the  integrity  of  Bavaria,  and 
called  loudly  for  Frederick  to  come  to  the  rescue. 

Frederick  responded  :  "  He  was  ready  to  defend  the  rights  of  the 
elector  palatine  against  the  unjust  pretensions  of  the  court  of 
Vienna,  "-and  removed  his  troops  from  Upper  Silesia  to  the  con- 
fines of  Bohemia  and  Saxony.  Tliis  was  the  signal  for  the  advance 
of  the  Austrian  army  ;  and  despite  her  repugnance  to  the  act,  Maria 
Theresa  was  compelled  to  suffer  it.  She  was  also  forced  to  allow 
Joseph  to  take  command  in  person.  This  time  her  representations 
and  entreaties  had  been  vain  ;  Joseph  was  thirsting  for  military 
glory,  and  he  bounded  like  a  war-horse  to  the  trumpet's  call.  The 
empress  felt  that  her  liands  were  now  powerless  to  restrain  him,  and 
she  was  so  mucli  tlie  feebler,  that  Kaunitz  openly  espoused  the  side 
of  the  ambitious  emperor. 

With  convulsive^  weeping  Maria  Theresa  saw  ]>er  son  assume  his 
command,  and  when  Joseph  bade  her  farewell,  she  sank  insensible 
from  his  arms  to  the  floor. 

*  Dohm's  Memoirs,  vol.  i. 


THE  EMPEROR  AS  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.  477 

CHAPTER   CXXIII. 

THE  EMPEROR  AS  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 

The  Emperor  Joseph  was  pacing  the  floor  of  his  cabinet.  Some- 
times he  paused  before  a  window,  and  with  absent  looks  surveyed 
the  plain  where  his  troops  were  encamped,  and  their  stacked  arms 
glistened  to  the  sun;  then  he  returned  to  the  table  where  Field -Mar- 
shal Lacy  was  deep  in  plans  and  charts. 

Occasionally  the  silence  was  broken  by  the  blast  of  a  trumpet  or 
the  shouts  of  the  soldiery  who  were  arriving  at  headquarters. 

"  Lacy, "  said  the  emperor,  after  a  long,  dreaiy  pause,  "  put  by 
your  charts,  and  give  me  a  word  of  consolation. " 

The  field-marshal  laid  aside  his  papers  and  rose  from  the  table. 
"  Your  majesty  had  ordered  me  to  specify  upon  the  chart  the  exact 
spot  which  Frederick  occupies  by  Welsdorf,  and  Prince  Henry  by 
Nienberg. " 

"I  know,  I  know,"  answered  Joseph  impatiently.  "But  what 
avails  their  encampment  to-day,  when  to-morrow  they  are  sure  to 
advance?" 

"Your  majesty  thinks  that  he  will  make  an  attack?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it. " 

"  And  I  doubt  it.     It  is  my  opinion  that  he  will  avoid  a  collision. " 

"Why  then  should  he  have  commenced  hostilities?"  cried  Joseph 
angrily.  "  Have  you  forgotten  that  although  the  elector  palatine  is 
ready  to  renounce  Bavaria,  Frederick  opposes  our  claims  in  the 
name  of  Germany  and  of  the  next  heir?" 

"  No,  sire ;  but  Frederick  has  spies  in  Vienna,  who  have  taken 
care  to  inform  him  that  Maria  Theresa  is  disinclined  to  war.  He 
has,  therefore,  declared  against  us,  because  he  hopes  that  the  blast 
of  his  coming  will  suflfice  to  scatter  the  armies  of  Austria  to  the 
winds." 

"The  time  has  gone  by  when  the  terror  of  his  name  could  appal 
us,"  cried  Joseph,  proudly  throwing  back  his  head.  "I  hope  to 
convince  him  ere  long  that  I  am  more  than  willing  to  confront  him 
in  battle.  Oh,  how  weary  is  the  inactivity  to  which  my  mother's 
womanish  fears  condemn  me  !  Why  did  I  heed  her  tears,  and 
promise  that  I  would  not  make  the  attack?  Now  I  must  wait,  nor 
dare  to  strike  a  blow,  while  my  whole  soul  yearns  for  the  fight,  and 
I  long  either  to  lead  my  troops  to  victory  or  perish  on  the  field  of 
battle. " 

"And  yet,  sire,  it  is  fortunate  that  you  have  been  forced  to  in- 
activity. To  us  time  is  every  thing,  for  Fi^ederick's  army  outnum- 
bers ours.  He  has  seventy  thousand  men  with  him  near  the  Elbe, 
and  fifty  thousand  under  Prince  Henry  near  Nienberg." 

"  Yes,  but  I  shall  oppose  his  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  men 
with  twice  their  number, "  cried  Joseph  impatiently. 

"  Provided  we  have  time  to  assemble  our  men.  But  we  must  have 
several  days  to  accomplish  this.  At  the  end  of  a  week  our  army 
will  be  complete  in  numbers,  and  we  can  then  await  the  enemy  be- 
hind our  intrenchments,  and  the  natural  defences  afforded  us  by  the 
steep  banks  of  the  Elbe." 

"  Await — nothing  but  await, "  said  Joseph  scornfully.  "  Forever 
condemned  to  delay. " 


478  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  In  war,  delay  is  often  the  best]strategy,  sire.  The  great  Maurice, 
of  Saxony,  has  said  that  fighting  is  an  expedient  by  which  incom- 
petent commanders  are  accustomed  to  draw  themselves  out  of  diffi- 
cult positions.  When  they  are  perplexed  as  to  their  next  move, 
they  are  apt  to  stumble  into  a  battle.  I  coincide  witli  tlie  great 
captain,  although  I  well  know  that  I  shall  incur  your  majesty's  dis- 
pleasure thereby.  Our  policy  is  to  remain  upon  the  defensive,  and 
await  an  attack.  Frederick  has  been  accustomed  to  win  his  laurels 
by  bold  and  rapid  moves,  but  we  have  now  for  us  an  ally  who  will 
do  better  service  in  the  field  against  him  than  our  expertest  general- 
ship. " 

"Who  is  that?"  asked  Joseph,  who  was  listening  in  no  amiable 
mood  to  Lacy's  dissertation  on  strategy. 

"It  is  old  age,  sire,  which  hourly  reminds  Frederick  that  his 
hand  is  too  feeble  to  wield  a  sword  or  pluck  new  laurels.  Frederick 
accompanied  his  army  in  a  close  carriage ;  and  yesterday,  as  he 
attempted  to  mount  his  horse,  he  was  so  weak  that  he  had  to  be 
helped  into  the  saddle ;  in  consequence  of  which  he  reviewed  liis 
troops  in  an  ill-humor,  cui'sed  the  war,  and  wished  Austria  to  the 
devil." 

"And  this  is  the  end  of  a  great  military  chieftain,"  said  Joseph 
sadly  ;  "  the  close  of  a  magnificent  career  !  May  God  preserve  me 
from  such  a  fate  ! .  Sooner  would  I  pass  from  exuberant  life  to  sud- 
den death,  than  drag  my  effete  manhood  through  years  of  weariness 
to  gradual  and  ignominious  extinction  ! 

"  But, "  continued  the  emperor,  after  a  pause,  "  these  are  idle 
musings.  Lacy.  Your  jjicture  of  the  great  Frederick  has  made  me 
melancholy  ;  I  cannot  but  hope  that  it  is  overdrawn.  It  cannot  be 
that  such  a  warrior  has  grown  vacillating  ;  he  will  surely  awake, 
and  then  the  old  lion  will  shake  his  mane,  and  his  roar — " 

At  this  moment  a  horseman  at  full  speed  was  seen  coming  toward 
the  house.  He  stopped  immediately  before  the  window.  A  little 
behind  came  another,  and  both  dismounting,  spoke  several  words  to 
the  soldiery  around,  which  evidently  produced  a  sensation. 

"  Lacy, "  said  Joseph,  "  something  has  happened  ;  and  from  the 
countenances  of  the  men,  I  fear  that  these  messengers  have  brought 
evil  tidings.     Let  us  go  out  and  see  what  has  occurred. " 

As  the  emperor  was  about  to  lay  his  hand  upon  the  door,  it 
opened,  and  one  of  his  adjutants  appeared. 

"Sire,"  said  he,  almost  breathless,  "  a  courier  has  arrived  from  the 
borders  of  Bohemia,  and  he  brings  startling  intelligence. " 

"  Tell  us  at  once  what  it  is, "  said  the  emperor. 

"  The  King  of  Prussia  has  left  the  county  of  Glatz  and  has  marched 
into  Bohemia." 

The  emperor's  face  brightened  instantaneously.  "That  is  glori- 
ous news !"  cried  he. 

"Glorious  news,  sire?"  exclaimed  the  astounded  adjutant.  "The 
courier  who  brings  the  intelligence  has  no  words  strong  enough  to 
depict  the  terror  of  the  inhabitants.  They  were  gathering  their 
effects  and  flying  to  the  interior,  while  the  Prussian  troops  occupied 
the  villages  without  opposition." 

"  The  count  is  correct, "  said  Lacy,  who  just  then  reentered  the 
room.  "I  have  spoken  with  the  man  who  brought  the  tidings.  He 
is  the  mayor  of  his  village,  and  he  fled  as  the  stafl'  of  the  king  en- 
tered the  place. " 


SECRET  NEGOTIATIONS  FOR  PEACE.       479 

"  I  must  speak  with  him  myself, "  cried  Joseph  quickly  ;  and  the 
adjutant  opening  the  door,  the  villager  was  introduced  into  the 
room. 

"Did  you  see  the  King  of  Prussia?"  asked  the  emperor. 

"Yes,  sire,  I  saw  him,"  replied  the  man,  gloomily.  "I  heard 
him  order  his  men  to  forage  their  horses  from  our  barns,  and  to  strip 
our  gardens  of  their  fruit  and  vegetables.  I  heard  him  give  orders 
to  spare  nothing  ;  for,  said  he,  'the  people  must  be  made  to  feel  that 
the  enemy  is  in  their  midst. '  "  * 

"I  shall  remember  the  king's  words,"  said  Joseph,  while  his  eyes 
flashed  with  anger.     "  How  did  he  look '?" 

"  Like  the  devil  in  the  likeness  of  an  old  man, "  said  the  peasant. 
"  His  voice  is  as  soft  as  that  of  a  bridegroom  ;  but  his  words  are  the 
words  of  a  hangman,  and  his  eyes  dart  fire  like  those  of  an  evil 
spirit.  Even  his  own  men  have  nothing  good  to  say  of  him.  His 
generals  call  him  a  selfish  old  man,  who  wants  to  do  eveiy  thing, 
and  knows  nothing.  He  has  not  even  appointed  a  general  staff,  and 
has  no  one  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  his  army. "  f 

"  Further,  further  !"  cried  Joseph,  as  the  man  paused. 

"I  have  nothing  further  to  tell,  sire.  As  the  king  and  his  people 
left  my  house,  it  was  growing  dark,  so  I  slipped  out.  The  curates 
were  in  the  churches  with  the  women  and  children,  and  we  men  ran 
to  the  next  village,  where  the  people  gave  us  horses  ;  and  I  have 
come  to  entreat  the  emperor  not  to  let  the  King  of  Prussia  take  us, 
as  he  did  Silesia. " 

"  I  give  you  my  word  that  you  shall  not  be  given  over  to  Prussia. 
Remain  true  to  your  country,  and  oppose  the  enemy  whenever  and 
wherever  you  can.  Go  back  to  your  village,  greet  j^our  friends  for 
me,  and  promise  them  my  protection.  Count,  be  so  good  as  to  see 
that  these  men  get  some  refreshment  before  they  start. " 

The  adjutant  bowed,  and,  followed  by  the  villager,  left  the  room. 

"  Lacy, "  cried  the  emperor,  "  the  time  for  deliberation  has  gone 
by.  The  hour  for  decision  has  struck,  and  I  am  free  to  give  battle. 
It  is  Frederick  who  has  thrown  down  the  glove,  and  I  too,  shall 
emerge  from  obscurity,  and  prove  to  the  world  that  others  besides 
the  King  of  Prussia  are  worthy  to  lead  their  men  to  victory.  It 
would  be  dishonorable  to  refuse  the  challenge  he  has  sent  through  his 
invasion  of  Bohemia.  Let  orders  be  given  to  march  to  Jaromirs. 
"We  shall  await  the  enemy  there  ;  and  there  at  last  I  shall  measuro 
swords  with  the  greatest  captain  of  the  age  !" 


CHAPTER    CXXIV. 

SECRKT  NEGOTIATIONS  FOR  PEACE. 

After  the  departure  of  the  emperor  for  the  seat  of  war,  the  court 
of  Vienna  became  supremely  dull.  All  the  state  apartments  were 
closed,  the  gentlemen  and  ladies  in  waiting  went  about  silent  as 
ghosts,  the  archduchesses  were  pale  and  sad,  and  the  empress,  dis- 
consolate, spent  all  her  days  in  the  solitude  of  her  own  apartments. 

Not  only  at  court,  but  in  the  city  were  all  sounds  of  joy  hushed 
into  speechless  anxiety.     Above  all,  since  it  had  become  known  that 

*  Frederick's  own  words.    Dohm's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  130. 
t  Historical.     See  Dohm,  vol.  i.,  p.  133. 


480  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Frederick  had  invaded  Bohemia,  the  Viennese  were  in  a  state  of 
painful  excitement,  convinced  as  they  were  that  the  warlike  king 
would  never  stop  his  marches  until  they  brought  him  to  the  gates  of 
Vienna. 

Finally  the  panic  reached  the  palace.  The  rich  were  conveying 
their  treasures  to  places  of  security,  and  the  archduchesses  and  ladies 
of  honor  were  importuning  the  empress  to  leave  Vienna,  and  remove 
the  court  to  Presburg.  * 

Maria  Tlieresa  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  these  entreaties.  Her  eyes, 
whicli  had  grown  dull  through  weeping,  flashed  with  defiant  cour- 
age as  she  replied :  "  I  remain  here  in  Vienna,  and  if  the  King  of 
Prussia  lays  siege  to  my  capital,  I  shall  die  like  an  empress  in  im- 
perial panoply.  I  have  never  known  what  it  was  to  fear  for  my  life, 
and  if  now  my  heart  throbs  with  uneasiness,  it  is  for  my  people,  it 
is  not  for  myself.  I  mourn  for  my  subjects,  should  Heaven,  in  its 
wrath,  permit  Frederick  to  prevail.  For  this  it  is  that  my  life  is 
spent  in  seclusion  and  prayer.  Come,  my  daughters,  come,  ladies  all, 
let  us  betake  ourselves  to  the  house  of  God. " 

And  leaning  upon  the  arms  of  the  Archduchesses  Elizabeth  and 
Christina,  the  empress  proceeded  to  the  chapel.  Behind  them,  with 
downcast  eyes  and  reluctant  steps,  came  the  ladies  of  the  court,  all 
of  one  mind  as  to  the  weariness  of  too  much  godliness  and  too  much 
praying. 

"When  will  the  empi-ess's  private  chapel  be  completed?"  whis- 
pered one  of  the  ladies  to  anotlier.  "When  will  this  daily  martyr- 
dom cease?  Is  it  not  too  bad  to  be  forced  to  church  five  times  a 
day?" 

"You  may  thank  fortune  for  your  headache  yesterday.     It  was 
my  turn  to  accompany  the  empress  to  the  chapel,  and  we  stayed  so 
long  that  the  Archduchess  Elizabeth  told  me  that  toward  the  end  her 
senses  began  to  fail  her,  and  she  was  scarcely  able  to  utter  the  re 
sponses.     How  is  the  Archduchess  Marianna  to-day?" 

"  Her  highness, "  whispered  the  first  lady,  "  is  too  sensible  to 
recover  in  a  Jiurry.  The  wound  in  her  cheek  has  reopened,  and  she 
really  suffers  a  great  deal  at  present.  But  she  bears  her  pain  with 
great  fortitiide.  Yesterday  the  English  ambassador  was  paying  her 
a  visit  of  condolence,  and  as  he  was  expressing  his  sympathy,  the 
archduchess  interrupted  him  with  a  lavigh.  'Believe  me, '  said  she, 
'for  a  princess  of  forty,  who  is  an  old  maid,  even  a  hole  in  her  own 
cheek  is  a  godsend.  Nothing  that  varies  the  dull  imiformity  of  my 
life  comes  amiss. '  "  f 

Both  ladies  tittered,  but  perceiving  that  the  empress  was  turning 
her  head,  they  resumed  their  sanctimonious  faces,  and  folded  their 
hands. 

"Was  it  you,  ladies,"  said  Maria  Theresa,  with  severity,  "who 
wei-e  interrupting  our  solemn  silence  by  friovlous  whisperings?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty,  "  replied  the  first  lady  of  honor.  "We  were 
preparing  ourselves  for  prayer  by  edifying  conversation." 

The  empress  smiled  kindly  upon  the  speaker.  "I  know  that  you 
are  inclined  to  religion, "  said  she,  "  and  I  am  glad  that  you  have 
had  so  good  an  influence  over  the  Countess  Julia,  for  she  is  not  wont 
to  be  too  zealous  at  prayer.     I  will  remember  you  both  for  your 

*  Dohm's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  137. 

tThe  archduchess's  own  words.  See  "  Courts  of  Europe  at  the  Close  of  the  Last 
Century,"'  by  Henry  Swinburne,  vol.  1.,  p.  342, 


SECRET  NEGOTIATIONS  FOR  PEACE.  481 

piety,  dear  childreu,  and  will  see  that  you  are  both  well  married. 
There  is  the  young  Baron  of  Palmoden  and  Count — " 

But  the  empress,  who,  in  her  darling  schemes  of  marriage,  had 
forgotten  for  a  moment  whither  they  were  going,  suddenly  crossed 
herself,  saying,  "  Forgive  me,  ladies  ;  let  us  hasten  our  steps. " 

On  this  day  the  empress  remained  for  three  hours  in  the  chapel, 
and  while  her  attendants,  worn  out  by  ennui,  were  some  sleeping, 
or  others  wliispering  to  keep  themselves  awake,  Maria  Theresa, 
before  the  altar,  was  on  her  knees,  praying  with  all  the  fervor  of 
her  honest  and  believing  soul.  As  she  prayed,  she  heaved  many  a 
sigh,  and  many  a  tear  fell  unheeded  from  her  eyes  upon  her  tightly- 
clasped  hands. 

Certainly  her  prayers  proved  consolatory,  for  when  they  were 
ended,  she  rose  from  her  knees,  calm  and  resolved.  As  she  reached 
the  door  of  her  own  room,  she  turned  to  her  favorite  daughter. 

"Is  your  heart  still  disconsolate,  Christina?"  said  she,  with  a  look 
of  supi'eme  tenderness. 

"How  can  it  be  otherwise,  my  mother?"  said  Christina,  sobbing. 
"  Has  not  my  cruel  and  avaricious  brother  forced  my  husband  into 
this  wicked  war?  Oh,  dearest  mother,  if  you  would  but  speak  the 
word,  Albert  might  be  relieved  from  the  disgraceful  contingency  of 
appearing  in  arms  against  his  native  land  !  He  has  no  alternative — 
lie  must  either  become  a  traitor  to  his  own  country,  or  perjure  him- 
self by  deserting  his  colors.  Oh,  your  majesty,  have  mercy  upon 
your  subjects,  and  force  the  rapacious  emperor  to  forego  his  unjust 
claims,  and  obey  your  imperial  commands  !" 

"Dry  your  tears,  my  daughter,"  replied  the  empress,  kissing  her 
tenderly;  "I  have  prayed  so  fervently  for  wisdom  in  this  matter, 
that  I  feel  as  if  my  prayers  had  been  answered.  What  He  has  com- 
manded I  will  do,  and  may  His  grace  strengthen  and  guide  me  ! 
Hope  for  the  best,  my  child,  and  do  not  speak  so  unkindly  of  your 
brother.  He  is  not  as  cruel  as  you  represent  him  ;  he  has  always 
been  a  dear,  obedient  son,  and  I  trust,  I  may  find  him  so  to  the  end. 
Go,  now,  Christina,  and  remember  that  God  directs  all  things.  " 

The  empress  dismissed  her  daughters,  and  entered  her  room,  pass- 
ing rapidly  to  the  place  where  hung  the  portrait  of  the  Emperor 
Francis.  For  a  long,  long  while  she  looked  at  it  without  any  thing 
but  a  vague  yearning  to  be  united  to  her  adored  husband.  Finally, 
as  was  her  custom,  she  began  to  speak  to  it. 

"Franz,  I  have  prayed  from  my  soul  for  light.  It  seems  to  me 
that  God  has  spoken,  but,  oh,  nay  darling,  if  what  I  am  about  to  do 
is  unwise,  whisper  me  one  word  of  warning,  and  I  shall  be  passive. 
Sometimes  I  think  that  you  visit  me,  beloved,  and  whisper  words  of 
angelic  sweetness  in  my  ear.  Speak  now,  my  Franz,  speak  if  I  am 
wrong— I  will  obey  your  voice." 

She  clasped  her  hands,  and  looked  imploringly  at  the  picture. 
Finally  she  sighed.  "  Your  dear  face  still  smiles  upon  me, "  mur- 
mured she,  "and  I  must  believe  that  I  have  decided  for  the  best.  I 
will  act. " 

So  saying,  she  rang  her  bell,  and  a  page  answered  the  summons. 

"Send  hither  my  private  secretary,  and  let  a  carriage  be  dis- 
patched for  Baron  Thugut.     I  v/ish  to  see  him  immediately." 

A  few  moments  afterward,  Koch  made  his  appearance,  and  in 
half  an  hour  after  a  page  announced  Baron  Thugut. 

"Baron,"  said  the  empress,  "I  wish  to  put  a  serious  question  to 


482  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS   COURT. 

you.     Remember  that  God  hears  you,  and  answer  me  without  reser- 
vation. " 

"  Your  majesty  has  forgotten, "  replied  Thugut.  "  that  I  have  been 
so  long  in  the  kingdom  of  unbelief  that  I  am  au  unbeliever  myself. 
I  do  not  know  whether  God  hears  me  or  not ;  but  as  I  know  that  your 
majesty  exacts  of  me  to  be  candid,  I  shall  obey  your  commands. " 

"  Then,  tell  me  what  is  your  opinion  of  the  war  of  the  Bavarian 
succession.     Do  you  think  it  an  equitable  one?" 

The  baron's  small  black  eyes  turned  from  the  empress  to  the  sec- 
retary.    Maria  Theresa  understood  the  glance. 

"  Speak  without  reserve  ;  Baron  Koch  is  loyal,  and  knows  all  my 
secrets.     Do  you  think,  then,  that  our  claims  to  Bavaria  are  just?" 

"Just,  your  majesty?"  repeated  Thugut,  in  his  sharp,  cutting 
tones.  "  Their  success  or  their  failure  must  decide  that  question. 
He  who  wins  will  have  proved  his  right.  If  we  succeed  in  holding 
Bavaria,  Germany  will  uphold  us — for  Germany  never  raises  her 
voice  against  a  fait  accompli.  Should  Frederick  unhappily  defeat 
us,  not  ouly  Germany,  but  all  Europe  will  cry  out  against  the  greed 
and  injustice  of  ambitious  Austria. " 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  expose  myself  to  this  contingency, "  replied  the 
empress.  "I  must  have  i^eace  with  God,  the  workl,  and  my  con- 
science, and  you  must  come  to  my  assistance,  Thugut. " 

An  ironical  smile  played  over  Thugut's  face.  "  With  God  and  your 
majesty's  conscience,  I  would  be  a  jxior  mediator,"  said  he,  "but 
toward  the  world  I  am  ready  to  serve  your  majesty  in  any  shape  or 
form." 

"Then  you  shall  mediate  between  myself  and  Frederick." 

"Between  your  majesty  and  the  King  of  Prussia  !"  said  Thugut, 
astonished. 

The  empress  nodded  her  head,  and,  just  then,  the  door  opened, 
admitting  a  page  who  handed  two  letters  on  a  golden  plate. 

"The  answer  of  Prince  Gallitzin,"  said  he,  bowing  atid  retiring. 

Maria  Theresa  opened  the  letters,  which  were  unsealed,  saying  : 

"  Now  we  have  every  thing  requisite.  Here  is  a  passport  for  you 
as  private  secretary  to  the  Russian  ambassador ;  and  here  is  a  letter 
which  you  are  to  bear  from  Gallitzin  to  the  king.  This  is  the  pre- 
text of  your  visit  to  Frederick." 

"  And  the  real  motive  is — " 

"  You  Avill  find  it  in  the  letter  which  I  shall  intrust  to  you  for  him. 
Read  my  letter  aloud,  Koch." 

The  secretary  read  as  follows : 

"  From  the  recall  of  Baron  von  Reidsel  and  the  marching  of  your 
majesty's  troops  into  Bohemia,  I  perceive  with  profoundest  son'ow 
that  we  are  on  the  eve  of  another  war.  My  age,  and  sincere  love  of 
peace,  are  known  to  all  the  world,  and  I  can  give  no  greater  proof  of 
this  love  than  I  do  by  writing  to  your  majesty.  My  maternal  heart, 
too,  is  sorely  grieved  with  the  thought  that  I  have  two  sons  and  a 
beloved  son-in-law  in  the  army.  I  have  taken  this  step  without  the 
knowledge  of  the  emperor,  and  whatever  its  result,  I  exact  that  it 
shall  remain  a  secret  between  us.  It  is  my  desire  to  resume  the 
negotiations  whicli  were  broken  off  by  my  son.  Baron  Thugut,  who 
will  deliver  this  into  your  majesty's  hands,  has  received  my  instruc- 
tions, and  is  empowered  to  treat  with  you.  I  trust  that  your  majesty 
may  deem  it  consistent  with  our  common  dignity  to  meet  my  wishes 


FRATERNAL  DISCORD.  483 

in  this  matter,  and  hope  that  you  also  correspond  to  the  earnest  de- 
sire which  I  cherish  for  a  continuation  of  friendly  relations  with 
your  majesty.     With  this  hope  I  remain, 

"Your  majesty's  affectionate  sister  and  cousin, 

"Maria  Theresa."* 

"Your  majesty  wishes  me  to  bring  about  a  peace.  But  what 
sort  of  peace  ?"  asked  Thugut.  "  A  conditional  one,  or  peace  at  any 
price?" 

Maria  Tlieresa's  eyes  flashed  fire. 

"Is  Austria  so  weak  that  she  should  crave  peace  at  any  price?" 
cried  she,  proudly. 

"No,  indeed,  your  majesty.  She  seems,  on  the  contrary,  so  pow- 
erful that  she  undertakes  war  at  any  price.  But  Bavaria  is  well 
worth  a  war  with  Prussia.  Allow  me  one  more  question.  What  is 
the  emperor  to  do  with  his  army,  while  we  negotiate?" 

"  They  must  await  the  result.  I  have  written  to  Leopold  to  use 
all  his  influence  to  reconcile  Joseph,  for  he  will  be  indignant  when 
he  hears  what  I  have  done.  But  imtil  it  becomes  evident  that  we 
cannot  ti'eat  with  Frederick,  the  emperor  and  his  generals  must  re- 
main passive.  Should  I  fail,  my  son  may  then  give  battle,  while 
his  mother  intercedes  for  him.  If  the  medicine  of  diplomacy  fails 
this  time,  we  shall  have  to  resort  to  the  knife  to  heal  our  political 
w^ounds. " 

"Your  majesty  is  right,"  said  Thugut,  with  a  heartless  laugh. 
"When  medicine  fails  we  use  the  cold  steel;  and  if  that  is  not 
enough,  fire  is  the  last  resort.  What  are  your  majesty's  conditions 
with  Prussia,  medicine,  iron,  or  fire?"  f 

"Balsam,  I  trust, "  replied  the  empress.  "Koch  has  drawn  out 
my  propositions.  And  now  go,  and  make  your  preparations  to  de- 
part, for  I  long  for  peace  with  the  whole  world. " 


CHAPTER    CXXV. 

FRATERNAL  DISCORD. 

Very  different  were  the  preparations  making  by  the  empress's 
warlike  son.  In  company  with  Lacy  and  his  staff,  he  had  i-evievved 
his  troops  for  the  last  time,  and  had  ridden  from  one  end  of  their  en- 
campment to  the  other,  that  he  might  personally  inspect  the  con- 
dition of  his  army.  He  had  found  it  cheerful,  spirited,  and  eager 
for  the  fray,  the  oflicers  assuring  him  that  their  men  were  impatient 
to  meet  the  enemy,  and  end  the  campaign  by  one  decisive  blow. 

Even  Lacy  himself  ceased  to  preach  caution.  He  saw  in  the 
triumphant  smile  and  flashing  eyes  of  Joseph  that  counsel  Avould  be 
worse  than  useless,  and  warning  would  only  drive  him  to  some  deed 
of  mad  daring,  which  might  peril  his  life,  or  the  safety  of  his  army. 
The  emperor  himself  had  planned  the  attack,  and  his  generals  had 
approved  his  strategy. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  Elbe  was  the  King  of  Prussia,  afraid  to 
cross,  lest  the  Austrian  army,  from  their  secure  heights  on  the  op- 

*This  letter  was  written  in  the  French  language,  and  is  to  be  found  in  Gross-Hof- 
finger's  "Life  and  History  of  the  Reign  of  Joseph  II.,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  39. 

t  Thugut's  own  aijplication  of  the  old-fashioned  method  of  cure.  See  Hormayer's 
"  Contributions  to  the  History  of  my  Fatherland." 


484  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

posite  shore,    should  annihilate  his  troops  as  they  attempted  the 
passage. 

But  what  Frederick  hesitated  to  undertake,  Joseph  was  resolved 
to  accomplish.  He  had  determined  to  cross  the  Elbe,  and  force  the 
king  to  give  him  battle.  His  columns  were  to  move  under  cover  of 
night,  to  ford  the  river  below,  and,  by  rapid  marches,  to  reach  the 
Prussian  army  at  break  of  day. 

"We  shall  be  victorious,  I  feel  it,"  said  the  emperor  to  Lacy,  on 
their  return  from  the  encampment.  "I  have  a  joy  within  my  heart 
that  is  the  forerunner  either  of  victory  or  of  death. " 

"  Of  death  !"  echoed  Lacy,  with  surprise.  "  Does  your  majesty 
mean  to  say  that  man  can  encounter  death  joyfully  V" 

"Why  notV"  said  the  emperor.  "When  a  man  dies,  has  he  not 
won  the  long  and  bloody  battle  of  life?" 

"These  are  disconsolate  words  to  fall  from  your  lips,  sire.  To 
you  life  must  present  a  bright  array  of  hopes  and  useful  deeds. 
None  but  an  old  and  decrepit  man  should  take  such  gloomy  views  of 
the  world." 

"  I  have  suffered  as  much  as  older  men.  Lacy, "  returned  the  em- 
peror, laying  his  hand  upon  his  friend's  shoulder  "But  all  my 
sufferings  are  forgotten  in  the  anticipated  joy  of  the  morrow.  Let 
the  dead  past  bury  its  dead — the  birth  of  my  hap2iiness  is  at  hand. 
I  shall  no  more  rest  my  title  to  the  world's  homage  upon  the  station 
to  which  I  was  born.  It  shall  know  at  last  that  I  am  worthy  to  be 
the  friend  of  Lacy  and  of  Loudon.  All  the  years  that  have  inter- 
vened have  never  yet  sufiflced  to  blot  out  the  remembrance  of  that 
fearful  day  on  which  the  empress  recalled  the  consent  slie  had  given 
for  me  to  meet  Frederick  in  the  field.  I  have  never  looked  upon  my 
mother  since  without  feeling  the  wound  reopen.  But  to-day  I  can 
forgive  her.  I  can  even  forgive  tlie  hated  priests  who  were  the  cause 
of  my  misfortune.     Lacy,  I  love  the  whole  world,  I — " 

The  emperor  interrupted  himself  to  stare  with  astonishment  at 
the  figure  of  a  man,  who  just  then  had  opened  the  door. 

"The  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  !"  exclaimed  Lacy. 

"  My  brother  Leopold, "  murmured  Joseph,  in  a  low,  tremulous 
voice,  but  without  rising  from  his  seat,  or  offering  his  hand. 

A  cloud  passed  over  the  pale,  sickly  face  of  the  grand  duke,  and 
the  smile  vanished  from  his  lips. 

"Your  majesty  does  not  invite  me  to  enter?"  asked  he,  reproach- 
fully.    "You  do  not  bid  me  welcome?" 

The  emperor  gazed  upon  his  brother  in  silence,  and  Leopold 
shrank  from  the  keen  and  searching  glances  of  Joseph's  inquiring 
eyes. 

"  My  brother, "  cried  the  emperor,  suddenly,  "  you  have  come 
hither  to  bring  me  some  evil  tidings." 

"  I  have  come  to  greet  your  majesty,  and  to  enjoy  a  few  hours  of 
family  intercourse  with  you,"  replied  the  grand  duke,  while,  with- 
out awaiting  the  courtesy  wliich  Joseph  would  not  extend,  he  closed 
the  door,  and  advanced  into  the  room. 

"  No,  no, "  cried  the  emperor,  "  that  is  false.  We  are  not  such  a 
pair  of  loving  brothers  that  you  should  seek  me  for  affection's  sake." 

And  approaching  Leopold  as  he  spoke,  he  stopped  just  before 
him,  and  continued : 

"  I  implore  of  you  be  generous  and  tell  me  what  you  want.  You 
have  letters  from  the  empress,  have  you  not  ?" 


FRATERNAL  DISCORD.  485 

"I  have.  I  have  not  only  letters  from  our  imperial  mother  to 
deliver  to  your  majesty,  I  am  also  the  bearer  of  verbal  messages, 
but — " 

"But  what?"  cried  Joseph,  as  Leopold  paused. 

"But  I  must  request  of  your  majesty  to  grant  me  a  private 
interview. " 

"With  his  majesty's  permission,  I  shall  withdraw,"  said  Lacy. 

Joseph  inclined  his  head,  and,  as  Lacy  disappeared,  he  turned 
his  eyes  once  more  upon  the  pale,  embarrassed  countenance  of  his 
unwelcome  relative. 

"Now  we  are  alone, "said  he,  breathing  fast.  "Now — but  no. 
Give  me  one  moment  to  collect  my  strength.  My  God !  what  evil 
has  the  empress  in  store  for  me  now,  that  she  should  select  you  as 
the  messenger  of  her  cruelty?  Peace — I  do  not  wish  to  hear  your 
voice  until  I  am  ready  to  listen  to  its  discordant  sounds." 

"  I  await  your  commands, "  replied  Leopold,  with  a  respectful 
inclination. 

The  emperor  crossed  the  room  several  times  forth  and  back.  His 
cheeks  were  blanched,  his  mouth  quivered,  while  quick  and  gasping 
came  the  breath  from  his  heaving  chest. 

"Air,  air!"  said  he  in  a  stifled  voice.  "I  shall  suffocate  !"  He 
approached  the  window,  and  leaning  far  out,  inhaled  the  cold 
winter  blast,  whose  icy  breath  was  welcome  to  his  hot  and  fevered 
head.  After  a  while,  he  closed  the  window  and  turned  to  his 
brother,  who,  witli  folded  arms,  still  stood  near  the  door. 

"Now,"  said  Joseph,  gloomily,  "I  am  ready  to  hear.  Speak  out 
your  infernal  errand  !" 

"  I  must  first  beg  pardon  of  your  majesty  if  the  intelligence  which 
I  am  compelled  to  communicate  is  unwelcome, "  began  Leopold,  in 
a  deprecating  voice. 

Joseph  cast  a  rapid,  searching  look  athwart  the  perplexed  face  of 
his  brother.  "You  are  forgiven,"  replied  he,  contemptuously.  "Your 
message  seems  to  be  punishment  enough  of  itself,  if  I  judge  by  your 
countenance.  Let  us  be  quick,  then,  and  be  done  with  one  another. 
Give  me  the  letter,  and  say  at  once  what  you  have  to  say. " 

The  grand  duke  took  from  his  coat-pocket  a  sealed  dispatch  which 
he  delivered  to  the  emperor. 

"  Here  are  the  letters  of  the  empress,  but  she  ordered  me  to  accom- 
pany them  with  a  few  words  explanatory  of  her  motives.  She  com- 
missioned me  to  tell  what  she  found  it  difficult  to  write." 

"She  was  afraid,"  muttered  Joseph. 

"Yes,  she  was  afraid  to  commit  an  injustice,"  returned  Leopold. 
"  She  was  afraid  to  offend  her  Maker  by  continuing  a  war  whose 
object  was  to  break  one  of  His  holy  commandments — " 

"Oh,  my  brother!"  interrupted  Joseph,  sarcastically,  "you  are 
yourself  again — I  recognize  the  dutiful  son  of  the  priests  who  de- 
nounce me  because  I  would  disturb  tliem  in  their  comfortable 
Bavarian  nest.  I  see  plainly  that  if  I  should  be  so  unfortunate  as  to 
fall  to-morrow  on  the  battle-field,  you  will  throw  yourself  iuto  the 
arms  of  Frederick  and  of  that  frantic  atuazon,  the  Duchess  Clemens, 
beg  pardon  for  my  sins,  and  hand  over  the  fairest  portion  of  Ger- 
many to  pope  and  Jesuits.  Oh,  what  a  favorite  you  would  become 
with  the  black-coats  !  Doubtless  they  would  give  you  absolution 
for  all  llie  si  us  you  are  accustomed  to  commit  against  your  wife. 
But,  my  virtuous  brother,  I  shall  outlive  the  morrow,  that  I  promise 


486  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

you,  and  shall  gain  such  a  victory  over  Frederick  as  will  astound 
you  and  the  whole  popedom." 

"You  were  about  to  give  battle  to  Frederick?" 

"  I  am  about  to  do  so, "  replied  Joseph,  defiantly. 

"  Then  it  was  time  for  me  to  come  !"  exclaimed  Leopold,  solemnly. 
"  The  mercy  of  God  has  sent  me  to  stop  the  carnage  !  My  brother, 
the  empress  earnestly  entreats  you,  by  the  tears  she  has  shed  for 
your  sake,  to  desist  from  fighting !  As  your  empress  she  com- 
mands you  to  sheathe  your  sword  until  you  hear  the  result  of  the 
negotiations  now  pending  between  herself  and  the  King  of  Prussia." 

The  emperor  uttered  a  crj^  of  rage,  and  the  angry  blood  darted  to 
his  very  brow.  "  The  empress  has  opened  negotiations  without  my 
consent !"  cried  he,  in  a  voice  of  mingled  indignation  and  in- 
credulity. 

"  The  empress  requires  the  consent  of  no  one  to  regulate  her  state 
policy.  In  the  supremacy  of  her  own  power,  she  has  reopened  nego- 
tiations ^vith  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  hopes  to  terminate  the  war 
honorably  without  bloodshed. " 

"It  is  false,  I  will  not  believe  it!"  again  cried  Joseph.  "My 
mother  would  not  offer  me  such  indignity,  when  she  herself  placed 
in  my  hand  the  sword  with  which  I  seek  to  defend  my  rights.  It 
is  a  priest's  lie,  and  you  have  been  commissioned  to  be  its  inter- 
preter. But  this  time  your  pious  frauds  will  come  to  naught. 
Take  back  your  packet.     It  is  not  the  empress's  handwriting. " 

"  It  is  that  of  her  private  secretary. " 

"  I  am  not  bound  to  respect  his  writing,  and  I  have  no  time  to 
listen  to  your  stupid  remonstrances.  Wait  till  day  after  to-morrow. 
When  a  man  is  flushed  with  victory,  he  is  generous  and  ready  to 
pardon.  When  I  have  beaten  Frederick,  I  shall  have  leisure  to 
inquire  into  the  authenticity  of  your  papers.  Remain  with  me,  not 
as  the  emissary  of  priests  and  Jesuits,  but  as  the  brother  of  the  em- 
peror, who  to-morrow  is  to  win  his  first  victory  and  his  first  budding- 
laurels.  Give  me  5'our  hand.  On  the  eve  of  a  battle,  I  am  willing 
to  remember  that  we  are  brothers. " 

"But  this  is  not  the  eve  of  a  battle,  your  majesty.  The  empress 
commands  you  to  await  the  result  of  her  efforts  to  end  the  war. " 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  see  through  yovu-  intrigues. " 

"  But  I  have  the  proofs  of  niy  veracity  in  these  papers.  You  will 
not  read  them  ?" 

"  No,  I  will  not !" 

"Then  I  shall  read  them  myself,"  returned  Leopold,  breaking  the 
seal.  "  The  empress  commands  you,  and  it  is  your  duty  as  her  sub- 
ject to  obey. " 

"  I  shall  obey  when  I  am  convinced  that  the  empress  commands. 
But  in  this  case  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  not  my  mother,  the  high- 
spirited  Maria  Theresa,  who  intrusts  you  with  such  an  abject  com- 
mission." 

"You  surely  will  not  deny  her  handwriting?"  returned  Leopold, 
extending  an  open  letter  to  his  brother. 

Joseph  looked  imploringly  at  his  brother's  calm  face. 

"You  are  resolved  to  show  me  no  mercy,"  said  he.  "You  will 
not  understand  my  refusal  to  believe.  Listen  to  me,  Leopold.  Show 
that  you  love  me  for  once  in  your  life.  Think  of  my  joyless  youth, 
my  sorrowing  manhood,  mj'  life  of  perpetual  humiliation,  and  give 
me  one  day  of  independent  action. " 


FRATERNAL  DISCORL.  487 

"  What  does  your  majesty  mean  ?"  asked  the  grand  duke. 

The  emperor  came  up  to  him,  and  putting  both  his  hands  upon 
Leopold's  shoulder,  he  said  in  a  voice  of  deep  emotion ;  "Majesty 
asks  nothing  of  you,  but  your  bi-other  entreats  you  to  serve  him  this 
day.  See,  Leopold,  it  is  too  late,  I  cannot  retract  upon  the  very  eve  of 
battle.  The  army  knows  that  we  are  about  to  engage  the  enemy, 
and  my  men  are  wild  with  enthusiasm.  The  presence  of  Frederick 
upon  Austrian  soil  is  an  indignity  which  I  am  pledged  as  a  man  to 
avenge.  If  I  allow  him  to  retreat  from  his  present  disadvantageous 
position,  my  name  is  gone  forever,  and  all  Europe  will  cry  out  upon 
my  incapacity  to  command.  Remember,  Leopold,  that  it  concerns 
not  my  honor  alone,  but  the  honor  of  Austria,  that  this  battle  should 
1)6  fought.  Rescue  us  both  by  a  magnanimous  falsehood.  Go 
back  to  the  empress.  Tell  her  that  you  lost  her  letters  and  that  I 
would  not  take  your  word.  Meanwhile,  I  shall  have  humiliated 
the  enemy,  and  Maria  Theresa  will  have  been  forced  to  submit  to  an 
event  which  she  cannot  recall.  Let  us  burn  these  papers,  Leopold," 
continued  Joseph,  passionately  clasping  his  hands,  "and  God  will 
forgive  you  the  innocent  deception  by  which  your  brother  shall  have 
won  fame  and  gloiy. " 

"God  will  never  pardon  me  for  sinning  so  deeply  against  my 
conscience,"  replied  Leopold,  unmoved.  "You  require  of  me  to 
burn  those  papers  and  consign  thousands  of  your  own  subjects  to 
death  and  worse  than  death — the  lingering  agonies  of  the  battle- 
field. Never  !  Oh,  my  dear  brother,  has^e  pity  on  yourself,  and  be- 
think you  that  you  peril  your  own  salvation  by  such  thirst  of  blood — " 

"  Peace  ! — and  answer  my  question, "  cried  Joseph,  stamping  his 
foot.     "  Will  you  do  what  I  ask  of  youV" 

"No,  Joseph,  I  will  not  do  it.  The  empress  desires  to  spare  the 
blood  of  her  people,  and  we  must  obey  her  just  demands. " 

"I  will  not  obey  !"  cried  Joseph  with  such  violence  that  his  face 
was  empurpled  with  passion.  "I  am  co-regent,  and  as  a  man  and 
a  commander,  it  is  my  right  to  defend  the  honor  of  the  crown.  I 
will  not  read  those  letters,  and  I  choose  to  assei't  the  superiority  of 
my  manhood  by  doing  that  which  they  forbid.  In  your  eyes  and 
those  of  the  empress,  I  may  be  a  rebel,  but  the  world  will  acquit  me, 
and  I  shall  be  honored  for  my  just  resistance.  You  will  not  destroy 
the  papers  as  I  implored  you  to  do? — then  give  them  to  me,  and  so 
satisfy  your  tender  conscience." 

"  No, "  replied  Leopold,  who  had  replaced  the  dispatches  in  his 
pocket,  "for  I  see  that  you  intend  to  destroy  them." 

"That  need  not  concern  you.     Give  me  the  letters." 

"  No,  Joseph,  I  will  not  give  them. " 

The  emperor  uttered  a  hoarse  cry,  and  darted  toward  his  brother 
with  uplifted  arm. 

"Give  me  the  papers  !"  said  he,  with  his  teeth  set. 

"What!  you  would  strike  me  !"  said  Leoj^old  retreating. 

"Give  me  the  papers!"  thundered  the  emperor,  "or  I  fell  you  to 
the  earth  as  I  would  a  beast !"  and  he  came  yet  nearer. 

Pale  and  panting,  their  eyes  flashing  with  anger,  the  brothers 
stood  for  a  moment  confronting  each  other. 

"  Refuse  me  once  again, "  hissed  Joseph  in  a  low,  unnatural  voice, 
"  refuse  me  once  again,  and  my  hand  shall  smite  your  cowardly  face 
and  disgrace  you  forever ;   for,  as  God  hears  me,  you  shall  never 
have  satisfaction  for  the  affront. " 
32 


488  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Leopold  was  silent,  bvit  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Joseph,  he  re- 
treated, farther  and  still  farther,  followed  by  the  emperor,  who,  still 
with  uplifted  hand,  threatened  his  brother's  face.  Suddenly  Leo- 
pold reached  the  door  and,  bursting  it  open,  rushed  into  the  ante- 
room. With  a  tiger-bound  he  sprang  forward  to  Lacy  who  had 
remained  there  in  obedience  to  the  emperor's  orders. 


CHAPTER    CXXVI. 

THE   DEFEAT. 

"Field -Marshal  Lacy, "said  the  grand  duke,  "I  claim  your 
protection — the  protection  of  a  man  whom  the  empress  has  honored, 
and  who  has  sworn  to  obey  her  as  his  lawful  sovereign. " 

"Even  unto  death,"  added  Lacy  solemnly. 

The  emperor  groaned  aloud,  and  his  upraised  arm  fell  po^^  erless 
to  his  side.  A  triumphant  smile  flickered  over  the  pale  features  of 
Leopold.  He  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  drew  forth  the  dis- 
patclies  of  the  empress. 

"  The  empress  charged  me, "  said  he,  "  in  case  the  emperor  refused 
to  read  these  letters,  to  deliver  them  to  you,  Marshal  Lacy,  and  to 
bid  you,  in  my  presence,  read  them  to  him.  Come,  then,  your  ex- 
cellency, let  us  obey  the  commands  of  our  sovereign. " 

Lacy  bowed,  and  followed  the  grand  duke  in  silence.  The  em- 
pei'or  retreated  to  his  cabinet,  and,  sinking  upon  a  sofa,  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands.  Nothing  interrupted  the  stillness  save  the  iiieas- 
ured  footsteps  of  Lacy  and  the  grand  duke,  who  entered  and  closed 
the  door  behind  them.  A  long  pause  ensued.  The  grand  duke 
retired  to  a  window,  where,  with  his  arms  folded,  he  awaited  the 
development  of  affairs  with  recovered  composure.  Joseph  still  sat 
with  liis  face  hidden  by  his  hands,  wliile  Lacy  with  military 
decorum  stood  at  the  door  with  his  letters,  silent  until  the  emperor 
should  signify  that  he  might  read.  Finding  that  Joseph  would  not 
speak.  Lacy  took  a  few  stejis  forward.  "  Does  your  majesty  allow 
me  to  read  tlie  letters  which,  in  the  name  of  the  empress,  his  im- 
perial highness,  the  grand  duke,  has  delivered  to  me?" 

"Read,"  said  Josepli  hoarsely,  but  without  removing  his  hands. 
Lacy  approached  the  table,  and  from  the  various  documents  which 
he  unfolded  and  examined,  selected  the  letter  which  was  in  the  em- 
press's own  hand — 

"  My  Dearest  Emperor  and  Son  :  As  co-regent  and  heir  to  my 
throne,  I  hasten  to  advise  you  of  the  negotiations  which  have  just 
been  renewed  between  the  King  of  Prussia  and  myself.  I  have  everj' 
hope  that  they  will  terminate  to  our  satisfaction,  and  thus  not  only 
save  the  lives  of  many  of  our  subjects,  but  relieve  my  heart  of  the 
pangs  it  has  endured  during  the  absence  of  my  beloved  son.  The 
King  of  Prussia  has  pi'omised  that,  pending  our  diplomatic  corre- 
spondence, he  will  not  attack  our  armies.  I  therefore  hope  tliat 
you,  my  son,  will  concede  as  much,  and  scrupulously  avoid  all  col- 
lision that  might  interrupt  our  negotiations.  I  send  you  copies  of 
our  correspondence,  and  will  continue  to  do  so  regularly.  Hoping 
that  God  in  His  goodness  will  restore  to  me  my  imperial  son,  I  re- 
main now  as  ever,  your  affectionate  mother  and  empress, 

"  Maria  Theresa.  " 


THE  DEFEAT.  189 

A  deep  sigh  that  was  almost  a  sob  was  heaved  by  the  emperor. 
Slowly  his  hands  fell  from  his  face,  while  with  tearful  eyes  he 
turned  to  Lacy,  and  said,  "Is  it  really  so?  Are  my  hopes  of  glory 
all  frustrated?" 

Lacj'  answered  with  another  sigh  and  a  slight  raising  of  the 
shoulder. 

"Read  on,  Lacy,"  continued  the  emperor,  mildly;  "my  eyes  are 
dim  and  I  cannot  see. " 

Lacy  continued  reading  the  correspondence  :  first  the  letter  of  the 
empress  ;  then  the  reply  of  the  king,  in  which  he  promised  that 
Maria  Theresa  should  have  nothing  to  fear  for  the  life  of  her  beloved 
son. 

When  tlie  emperor  heard  this  he  started  ;  the  color  mounted  to 
his  face,  then  faded  away  and  left  it  pale  as  before.  His  lips 
moved,  but  with  a  convulsive  twitch  he  closed  them  again,  and  lis- 
tened in  silence.  Two  more  letters  followed,  full  of  mutual  and 
distinguished  consideration  ;  then  came  the  propositions  of  the  em- 
press and  the  comments  of  the  king. 

Maria  Theresa  pledged  herself,  from  that  portion  of  Bavaria  of 
which  Austria  had  possession,  to  retain  only  so  much  as%vould  yield 
a  revenue  of  one  million,  offering  to  cede  the  remainder  to  the  elec- 
tor palatine,  or  to  exchange  with  him  for  territory  situated  else- 
where. 

Tlien  followed  Frederick's  conditions.  He  stipulated  that  Aus- 
tria should  renounce  all  pretensions  to  Bavaria,  contenting  herself 
with  a  small  portion  of  Upper  Bavaria,  and  recognizing  and  uphold- 
ing the  claims  of  Charles  Theodore,  as  well  as  those  of  his  heir,  the 
Duke  of  Zweibriicken. 

"Further,  further!"  exclaimed  Joseph,  as  Lacy  paused. 

"There  is  nothing  further,  sire;  the  correspondence  ceases 
there. " 

"And  to  these  disgraceful  propositions  we  are  not  permitted  to 
make  the  only  answer  of  which  they  are  deserving — that  is,  to  wipe 
them  out  with  blood  !  Oh,  Lacy,  Lacy,  is  it  not  fearful  to  be  com- 
pelled like  a  schoolboy  to  submit  to  the  punishment  which  my  tor- 
mentor judges  fit  to  inflict?" 

"  It  is  a  painful  duty,  sire ;  but  it  is  a  duty,  and  your  majesty 
must  submit. " 

"I  must  not  submit!"  exclaimed  Joseph  in  bitter  anguish,  while 
he  sprang  from  the  sofa.  But  suddenly  his  eager,  fluttering  glances 
were  turned  toward  the  window  where  stood  the  grand  duke  quietly 
surveying  his  movements. 

"Have  you  not  gone?"  asked  the  emperor.  "I  thought  that  your 
mission  being  fulfilled,  your  imperial  highness  had  nothing  more  to 
do  here. " 

"I  await  your  majesty's  answer,"  replied  the  gi-and  duke. 

"Oh,  you  wish  to  mock  me,  do  you?"  cried  Joseph,  ti-embling 
with  passion,  "for  well  you  know  there  is  but  one  answer  to  the 
empress's  commands,  and  that  is — obedience.  But  since  you  are 
anxious  to  take  a  message,  here  is  one,  and  mark  it  well.  Say  to 
the  empress  that  I  sumbit  as  becomes  her  subject,  and  so  long  as  it 
suits  her  without  my  knowledge  and  behind  my  back  to  hold  confer- 
ences with  the  enemy,  I  will  abstain  from  engaging  him  in  Ijattle, 
although  by  so  doing  I  shall  ruin  my  reputation  forever.  Tell  her 
furthermore  that  should  she  accept  the  dishonorable  proposals  made 


490  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

by  Frederick  and  conclude  a  peace  upon  the  basis  of  his  conditions, 
slae  need  never  expect  to  see  nie  again  in  Vienna.  I  never  shall  go 
near  her  so  long  as  I  live,  but  shall  take  up  my  abode  in  Aix  la 
Chapelle,  or  in  some  other  free  citj^  as  it  was  once  the  custom  of  the 
Emperors  of  Germany  to  do. "  * 

"Oh,  sire!"  exclaimed  Lacy,  shocked,  "retract  those  words,  I 
implore  of  you  !" 

"  I  will  not  retract  them, "  replied  Joseph,  imperatively  ;  "  I  order 
the  envoy  of  the  empress  to  repeat  them  faithfully. " 

"I  shall  obey  your  majesty,  the  co-regent  of  the  empress,"  said 
the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany.  "  Has  your  majesty  any  other  com- 
mands?" 

"Yes!"  shouted  the  emperor,  fiercely.  "When  you  shall  have 
accomplished  your  mission  in  "Vienna,  go  home  to  your  priests  in 
Tuscany,  and  bid  them  say  a  mass  for  the  repose  of  your  brother's 
soul,  for  from  this  day  you  have  lost  him  who  was  called  Joseph. 
He  is  dead  to  you  f  oi-ever. " 

The  grand  duke  returned  his  brother's  look  with  one  of  equal 
hatred.  "  I  can  scarcely  lose  that  which  I  have  never  possessed, "  re- 
plied he  with  composure.  "  Had  the  affront  which  your  majesty  has 
put  upon  me  to-day  come  from  a  brother,  we  should  have  measured 
swords  together  before  the  sun  had  set  upon  the  insult.  But  he  who 
stands  before  me  is  my  emperor,  and  of  him  I  am  prohibited  from 
demanding  satisfaction. " 

"  Our  paths  in  life  lie  apart,  and  I  trust  that  we  shall  never  be 
forced  to  look  upon  each  other  again, "  said  Joseph  in  reply. 

"  Since  we  can  never  meet  as  brothers,  I  am  compelled  to  echo  the 
wish,  "  returned  Leopold.     "  Farewell !" 

"Farewell — and  let  it  be  farewell  forever  !" 

The  grand  duke  crossed  the  room  and  opened  the  door,  while 
Joseph  watched  his  disappearance  with  glaring  eyes  and  stormy 
brow,  and  Lacy  in  anguish  of  heart  looked  first  at  one  brother,  then 
at  the  other.  The  door  closed,  and  the  jar  it  made  caused  Lacy  to 
start.     He  recovered  himself  and  hastened  to  the  emperor's  side. 

"Call  him  back,  sire, "  implored  he.  "Call  him  back.  He  is 
your  brother  and  the  son  of  your  mother.  He  is  also  the  hope  of 
those  who  tremble  with  apprehension  of  your  majesty's  reign." 

"  Oh,  yes — he  is  the  leader  of  my  enemies,  the  head  of  the  pious 
conspirators  who  have  cursed  my  life  by  their  diabolical  opjiosition. 
But  a  day  will  come  when  I  shall  crush  the  whole  brood  in  their 
owl's  nest,  and  put  my  house  in  order.  In  that  day  I  shall  remem- 
ber this  interview  with  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany. "  f 

"  Sire, "  insisted  Lacy,  "  I  entreat  of  you,  recall  him — if  not  as  your 
brother,  as  the  envoy  of  j^our  sovereign.  Before  it  is  too  late,  retract 
those  fearful  words,  which  in  a  moment  of — " 

"Lacy!"  interrupted  the  emperor,  in  a  loud,  angry  voice,  "I 
have  this  day  lost  a  brother  and  a  battle.  Am  I  also  to  lose  a 
friend?" 

The  tears  rose  to  Lacy's  eyes.     "Sire,"  said  he  in  a  voice  of 

♦Joseph's  own  words.    See  Dohm's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  143. 

t  The  two  brothers  never  met  apain.  Although  Leopold  was  next  heir  to  the 
crown,  Joseph  would  not  allow  him  to  receive  the  title  of  King  of  Rom*^,  but  be- 
stowed it  upon  Leopold's  son  and  heir,  Francis.  Even  upon  his  death-bed  the  em- 
peror refused  to  see  his  brother.  By  his  explicit  commands,  it  was  only  when  his 
death  had  taken  place,  that  a  courier  was  sent  to  inform  Leopold  of  his  accession  to 
the  throne. 


THE  DEFEAT.  491 

emotion,  "  forgive  your  truest  friend  if  he  has  presumed  to  oppose 
you.  I  hp  ve  no  kindred  to  love  ;  my  heart  is  bound  to  you,  and  if  I 
lose  your  regard,  I  am  desolate  and  alone  in  the  world  !" 

"You  shall  not  lose  it,  my  dear,  dear  friend, "  exclaimed  Joseph, 
throwing  his  arms  around  Lacy's  neck.  "O  God,  you  do  not  know 
how  I  suffer  !  I  feel  as  if  I  had  lost  some  beloved  friend.  And  is  it 
not  so?  Have  I  not  buried  to-day  the  hopes  of  a  whole  life?  The 
hopes  which  from  my  youth  I  had  cherished  of  winning  glory  and 
fame  through  Frederick's  humiliation! — I  would  give  years  of  my 
life  to  have  measured  swords  with  him,  for— let  me  tell  you  a  secret, 
Lacy — I  hate  that  man  as  much  as  I  once  fancied  that  I  loved  him. 
He  is  the  cause  of  every  misfortune  that  has  befallen  our  house  for 
forty  years  past.  His  fame  is  our  shame,  his  splendor  our  obscura- 
tion. I  might  forgive  him  his  robbery  of  Silesia,  but  that  he  has 
reduced  me  to  the  7'ule.  of  an  imitator,  I  can  never  forgive  !  Every 
thing  on  earth  that  I  imagine,  he  executes  before  me.  If  I  desire  to 
free  my  people  from  the  dominion  of  the  clergy,  he  has  already 
liberated  his  ;  if  I  seek  to  advance  art,  literature,  or  manufactures, 
he  has  just  afforded  them  protection  in  Prussia ;  if  I  recommend 
toleration,  lo  !  he  has  removed  the  disabilities  of  the  Jews,  and  has 
pronounced  all  sects  equal  before  the  law.  Would  I  excel  in  music, 
or  yearn  for  military  glorj',  the  world  has  long  since  pronounced 
him  a  hero,  and  his  flute  was  heard  before  I  learned  the  violoncello. 
Oh,  I  hate  him,  I  hate  him,  for  his  greatness  is  the  rock  upon  which 
my  originality  is  fated  to  split ;  and  his  shadow  projects  forever  be- 
fore me  and  my  unborn  deeds.  He  forces  me  to  pass  for  a  counter- 
feit of  his  true  coin,  and  yet  I  feel  that  my  individuality  is  as 
marked  as  his !  He  is  the  evil  genius  of  my  destiny,  vanquishing 
me  even  in  that  which  I  would  have  done  for  the  good  of  my  sub- 
jects and  the  advancement  of  the  world  !" 

"Your  majesty  goes  too  far,"  said  Lacy,  smiling.  "There  is  one 
thing  which  Frederick  has  never  dreamed  of  doing,  and  it  is  pre- 
cisely there  that  you  are  destined  to  eclipse  him.  He  has  never 
sought  to  do  any  thing  for  Germany.  A  German  prince,  the  ruler 
of  a  German  people,  he  is  the  patron  of  foreign  industry,  literature, 
and  art.  The  most  insignificant  writer  in  France  is  better  known 
to  him  than  Lessing  or  Winklemann  ;  and  while  he  is  perfectly 
familiar  with  the  composers  of  Italy,  he  has  blundered  into  depreci- 
ation of  Gluck's  inspired  music.  There  is  the  great  and  glorious 
contrast  which  your  majesty  presents  to  Frederick  of  Prussia  ;  and 
the  German  people,  whom  he  has  despised,  will  look  up  to  you,  sire, 
as  to  the  Messiah  of  their  decaying  greatness." 

"  He  will  foil  me  there  as  in  all  else, "  replied  Joseph,  discon- 
solately. "  Has  he  not  already  guessed  my  plans  in  Germany,  and 
has  he  not  torn  my  banner  from  my  hand  to  flaunt  it  above  his  own 
head,  as  the  defender  of  German  liberties !  And  Maria  Theresa, 
too,  is  deceived  by  his  infernal  logic.  Oh,  Lacy !  I  hate  him  be- 
yond expression.  I  hate  him  for  the  letter  wherein  he  promises  to 
spare  her  son,  a  man  whom  he  loves,  although  he  differs  with  him 
on  the  subject  of  German  nationality.*  The  cowardly  remnant  of  a 
warrior  !  He  takes  refuge  under  my  mother's  hooped  petticoat,  and 
whispers  in  her  credulous  ear  that  this  war  is  a  great  sin.  Do  you 
really  think  that  I  am  bound  to  sheathe  my  sword  at  the  ipse  dixit 
of  my  mother?" 

*  Gross-Hofflnger,  "  Records  of  the  Life  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  41. 


492  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Your  mother  is  the  reigning  empress,  sire,  a-nd  it  is  for  you  to  give 
to  her  other  subjects  an  example  of  loyalty  and  obedience." 

"Ah,"  sighed  Joseph,  "I  must  still  the  throbbings  of  my  bursting 
heart,  and  suffer  in  silence !  " 

For  a  while  he  2:)aced  the  room  with  hasty,  uncertain  steps,  murmur- 
ing inaudible  words,  and  darting  despairing  looks  toward  the  window, 
whence  gay  throngs  of  soldiery  were  to  be  seen  preparing  to  leave  the 
encampment,  while  they  sang  their  martial  songs,  and  speculated  to-, 
gether  upon  the  events  of  the  morrow.  Suddenly  the  emperor  turned 
his  head  toward  Lacy,  and  said : 

"Field-marshal,  I  withdraw  my  plans  of  battle.  The  empress- 
queen  has  spoken,  it  is  for  us  to  obey.  Apprise  the  army  of  the  change. 
We  remain  where  we  are. " 

"Sire,"  exclaimed  Lacy  enthusiastically,  "your  victory  has  been 
won  to-day.     A  victoi-y  over  self !  " 

The  emperor  raised  his  eyes  with  a  sad,  weary  expression,  and  shook 
his  head:  "It  was  harder  to  win  than  could  have  been  that  which 
I  contemplated  for  to-morrow.  Go,  Lacy,  go,  we  must  still  hope  and 
pray — pray  God  to  grant  that  at  some  future  day  we  may  be  revenged." 


CHAPTER    CXXVII. 

THE    REVENGE. 

Lacy  had  assembled  the  generals  and  the  staff -officers  to  communi- 
cate the  decision  of  the  emperor  ;  while  the  latter,  overcome  by  this 
supreme  disappointment,  was  pacing  his  cabinet  with  heavy  and  meas- 
ured step.  Then  he  stood  at  the  window,  and  watched  the  movements 
of  his  soldiers. 

"They  have  heard  it  now,"  thought  he,  "and  the  word  has  gone 
forth,  'The  emperor  is  afraid  to  meet  the  old  hero.'  Yes,  my  brave 
soldiers,  I  know  full  well  that  you  despise  me!  Your  songs  have 
ceased — your  spirit  is  crushed,  and,  ah,  mine  also!  This  unfought  bat- 
tle is  worth  a  victory  to  Frederick;  for  the  army  will  think  that  my 
courage  failed  mo,  and  the  Iving  of  Prussia  will  still  remain  in  their 
estimation  the  invincible  foe  of  Austria!  Oh,  when  will  the  hour  of 
retribution  sound  ?  " 

At  this  moment  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  an  adjutant 
announced  to  the  emperor  tliat  a  hussar,  belonging  to  a  Galician  regi- 
ment stationed  directly  opposite  to  the  Prussian  encampment,  wished 
to  communicate  .something  of  importance. 

"Admit  him,"  said  Joseph,  wearily. 

The  adjutant  bowed,  and  returned,  accompanied  by  a  stalwart  fig- 
ure, attired  in  the  fanciful  and  becoming  costume  of  a  Galician  hussar. 
The  emj)eror  returned  his  salute  with  a  slight  bend  of  the  head,  and 
motioned  him  to  approach.  The  adjutant  withdrew,  and  Joseph  was 
alone  with  the  man. 

"  Now  speak,"  said  the  emperor,  "and  if  you  have  important  tid- 
ings, let  me  hear  them." 

The  soldier  raised  his  head,  and  spoke.  "I  have  come  to  do  your 
majesty  a  .service,  but  first  you  must  promise  to  reward  me  as  becomes 
an  emperor." 

"  If  your  service  is  great,  your  reward  shall  be  in  proportion." 


THE   REVENGE.  493 

The  soldier  bowed.  "  I  am  on  picket  duty  immediately  on  the 
banks  of  the  Elbe.  As  I  have  lain  among-  the  bushes,  I  have  more 
than  once  seen  the  King  of  Prussia  just  opposite  to  me,  taking  a 
survey  of  our  strength.  Little  thinks  he,  as  he  reins  in  his  horse, 
that  a  sharpshooter's  ball  is  not  too  far  off  to  bring  him  down. 
But  I  have  thought  of  it." 

"You  have  thought  of  what?"  exclaimed  Joseph,  shocked. 

"  I  have  thought  that  my  ball  has  never  yet  missed  its  man,  and 
what  a  rich  man  I  might  become  if  I  were  to  free  Austria  from  its 
worst  enemy.  I  was  turning  this  over  in  my  mind  yesterday,  when 
here  comes  the  king  on  his  gray  horse,  and  halts  directly  in  front 
of  me.  He  held  a  cane  in  his  hand,  and  pointed  with  it  toward  our 
encampment,  and  beat  the  air  with  it,  as  though  he  were  showing 
his  officers  how  he  was  going  to  thrash  the  Austrian  army.  When 
I  saw  this,  my  blood  began  to  boil,  and  I  rose  half  up,  and  cocked 
my  gun.    Many  a  Bosnian  have  I  brought  down  with  it." 

"Goon,"  said  the  emperor,  as  the  soldier  paused,  and  threw  an 
admiring  glance  upon  his  musket. 

"  Yes,  sire,  I.  raised  my  gun,  and  took  aim,  when  I  began  to  re- 
flect that—" 

"That  what?"  exclaimed  Joseph,  upon  whose  forehead  great 
drops  of  sweat  had  begun  to  gather. 

•'  That  it  would  be  better  first  to  ask  the  emperor's  permission,  and 
get  the  promise  of  a  reward, "  said  the  hussar,  with  a  salute. 

"Ah!"  cried  the  emperor,  breathing  freely,  "that  was  a  lucky 
thought  of  yours !" 

The  soldier  bowed  low.  "  I  put  down  my  musket,  and  wdien  the 
hour  came  round  for  me  to  be  relieved,  I  asked  leave  of  my  captain 
to  come  here  to  see  an  old  acquaintance.  And,  indeed,  your  maj- 
esty, I  was  not  telling  a  lie,  for  you  once  slept  under  my  father's 
roof,  and  paid  him  so  well  for  the  night's  lodging,  that  he  was  able 
to  buy  some  land  to  settle  me  upon  it,  and  thereupon  I  married  my 
sweetheart.  So  that  I  did  come  to  see  an  okl  acquaintance ;  and 
now,  your  majesty,  I  have  a  firm  hand  and  a  sharp  eye,  and  if  you 
say  so,  Frederick  shall  bite  the  dust  before  this  day  w^eek." 

"What  said  your  captain  to  such  a  proposal?" 

"  Does  your  majesty  suppose  that  I  am  such  a  fool  as  to  give  an- 
other man  the  chance  of  stepping  in  my  shoes?" 

"  It  follows  thence  that  I  am  the  only  person  in  your  confidence, " 
said  Joseph,  much  relieved. 

"The  only  one,  sire,  and  I  believe  that  you  will  not  misuse  it." 

"  No,  I  will  not,  and  as  a  reward  for  your  trust  in  me,  here  are 
two  gold  pieces. " 

At  first  the  soldier  smiled  as  he  received  the  gold,  but  presently 
his  brow  darkened,  and  casting  a  dissatisfied  look  at  the  emperor 
from  behind  his  bushy  eyebrows,  he  said,  "Is  the  life  of  the  King  of 
Prussia  worth  but  two  ducats?" 

"It  is  worth  more  than  all  the  guld  in  my  imperial  treasury,"  re- 
plied the  emperor,  with  energy;  "and  no  man  on  earth  is  rich 
enough  to  pay  for  it.  I  gave  you  these  ducats  to  repay  what  you  spent 
in  coming  from  your  camp  hither.  But  I  shall  reward  you  still 
further  if  you  will  promise  not  to  divulge  what  you  have  confided  to 
me.  Not  only  that,  but  I  will  also  give  you  your  discharge  from  the 
army,  send  you  home,  and  give  you  a  situation  as  imperial  hunts- 
man.    If  you  break  your  promise,  I  will  punish  you  with  death. " 


494  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Sire,  I  promise,  and  I  shall  never  break  my  word. " 

"Swear  it  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  the  Blessed  Virgin." 

"  I  swear, "  said  the  soldier,  raising  his  right  hand  to  heaven. 
"  And  now,  your  majesty,  that  no  one  is  to  know  i '  except  us  two, 
when  shall  I  shoot  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  return  to  my  home?" 

The  emperor  looked  sternly  upon  the  unconscious  hussar.  "Sol- 
dier, "  said  he,  in  loud  and  solemn  tones,  "  keep  the  gold  ^  have  given 
you  in  remembrance  of  the  warning  which  your  good  angel  whis- 
pered, when  you  forbore  to  murder  the  King  of  Prussia.  I  hope  and 
believe  tliat  every  man  among  you  would  risk  his  life  in  battle  to 
take  him  prisoner,  but  God  forbid  that  a-^.y  me  of  you  should  stoop 
so  low  as  to  become  his  murderer  !" 

The  man  stared  at  the  empei'or  in  utter  bewilderment,  and  not 
a  word  of  reply  was  he  able  to  make  to  this  incomprehensible 
harangue. 

The  emperor  continued  :  "  I  pardon  your  evil  thought  because  it 
did  not  germinate  into  an  evil  deed.  But  had  you  followed  your 
impulse  to  murder  the  king,  I  would  have  hung  you  without  giving 
you  time  to  see  a  priest.  Thank  God  for  yovir  escape,  and  let  us  dis- 
miss the  disgraceful  subject  forever.  You  can  remain  here  for  the 
night. " 

"  But  I  have  only  six  hours'  leave  of  absence,  sire. " 

The  emperor  looked  distrustfully  at  the  soldier.  "I  have  dis- 
charged you  from  the  service,  and  will  see  that  you  are  not  molested. " 

"Ancl  I  am  really  to  go  home?"  cried  the  man,  overjoyed.  "And 
the  emperor  really  means  to  fulfil  his  promise  in  spite  of  the  dread- 
ful reprimand  I  have  received?" 

"Yes,  I  mean  to  fulfil  my  promise.  But  you  also  must  swear  to 
live  a  peaceful  life,  and  never  try  to  kill  another  man  save  in  open 
fight,  were  he  even  a  Bosnian. " 

"  From  my  heart,  I  swear, "  replied  the  soldier,  solemnly. 

"  Now  you  can  go. " 

The  emperor  then  rang  his  bell,  when  the  door  opened,  and 
Gimther  entered  the  room. 

" Giinther, "  said  he,  "give  this  man  his  supper  and  a  bed  in  your 
room,  and,  while  he  remains  hei'e,  see  that  his  wants  are  attended 
to." 

Giinther  bowed,  and  retired  with  the  hussar.  The  emperor  fol- 
lowed the  gigantic  figure  of  the  soldier  until  the  door  closed  upon 
him,  then  he  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  with  a  look  of  unspeakable 
gratitude. 

"  Lord, "  said  he,  "  I  have  suffered  cruelly  since  the  sun  rose  to- 
day, but  oh  !  how  I  thank  Thee  that  Thou  hast  preserved  my  name 
from  eternal  infamy  !  How  wovild  the  world  have  spurned  me,  if, 
refusing  to  give  him  battle,  I  had  taken  the  life  of  my  enemy 
through  the  hands  of  an  Austrian  soldier  !  My  God  !  my  God  !  the 
life  of  Frederick  has  become  more  precious  to  me  than  my  own — for 
his  life  is  one  with  my  honor. 

"But  what,  if  another  should  execute  what  this  Galician  has 
conceived?"  continued  the  emperor,  shuddering.  "What  if,  in  his 
ignorance,  another  one  of  these  wild  huntsmen  should  deem  it  his 
duty  to  take  the  life  of  Frederick?"  The  emperor  grew  pale  with 
the  thought,  and  his  liand  was  lifted  as  if  to  protest  against  the 
crime.  "I  must  find  means  to  shield  myself  from  such  disgrace,  for 
his  safety  and  my  honor  are  cast  on  tlie  same  die. " 


THE  REVENGE.  495 

Far  into  the  night  Giinther  heard  the  tread  of  his  imperial  master, 
and  he  waited  in  vain  to  be  called  in  to  attend  him.  He  watched 
until  the  dawn  of  day,  and  when,  at  last,  unable  to  contain  his 
anxiety,  he  opened  the  door  of  the  cabinet,  he  saw  the  emperor 
asleep  in  an  arm-chair.  He  was  in  full  uniform,  and  the  rays  of  the 
rising  sun  lit  up  his  pale  face,  which,  even  in  sleep,  wore  an  anxious 
and  painful  expression. 

Giinther  approached,  and  touched  him  lightly. 

"  Sire, "  said  he,  in  a  voice  of  tender  entreaty,  "  let  me  assist  you 
to  undress.  This  is  the  fourth  night  that  your  majesty  has  slept  in 
your  uniform.     You  must  lie  down,  indeed  you  must. " 

Joseph  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  at  Giinther. 

"Ah!"  sighed  he,  "during  three  of  these  nights  1  might  just  as 
well  have  slejjt  in  my  bed  as  any  respectable  burgher  who  has  noth- 
ing to  trouble  him  but  his  growing  corpulence.  But  last  night  I 
dared  not  undress,  for  I  have  much  to  do  this  morning.  Good 
Heaven  !  Giinther, "  continued  the  emperor,  suddenly  remembering 
the  hussar,  "  what  has  become  of  the  man  whom  I  gave  into  your 
custody  last  evening?" 

"Your  majesty's  second  valet  is  in  the  same  bed  with  him,  and 
they  are  both  asleep.  The  door  between  our  sleeping-room  and  the 
anteroom  has  been  open  all  night,  so  that,  while  I  sat  there  awaiting 
your  majesty's  call,  1  had  the  hussar  directly  under  my  eyes.  He 
seems  to  have  pleasant  dreams,  if  I  judge  by  his  smiles  and  snatches 
of  songs. " 

"Let  him  sleep,  Giinther,  and  when  he  awakes,  allow  no  one  to 
hold  any  conversation  with  him.  Now  give  me  a  glass  of  fresh 
water  for  my  breakfast. " 

Giinther  hastened  to  obey,  and  returned  in  a  very  few  minutes. 
The  emperor  emptied  the  glass  at  a  draught. 

"  Oh !"  exclaimed  he,  refreshed,  "  how  delightful  it  is !  I  have 
not  a  cook  in  my  palace  capable  of  brewing  me  such  a  beverage. " 

"And  yet  the  meanest  of  your  subjects,  sire,  would  grumble  if  he 
had  nothing  better  tlian  a  glass  of  water  for  breakfast. " 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  Giinther.  Men  set  no  value  upon  that  which  is 
easily  obtained.  If  I  were  to  close  up  the  fountains,  and  forbid 
them  to  drink  water  for  breakfast,  they  would  raise  a  howl,  and 
protest  that  they  could  drink  nothing  else.  And  if  I  desired  to  give 
them  a  taste  for  assafoetida,  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  but  forbid 
its  use.  Once  forbidden  to  the  multitude,  the  multitude  would  go 
mad  for  it.  But  see,  the  sun  has  sent  a  ray  through  the  window  to 
bid  us  good-morning,  and  to  warn  me  that  it  is  time  to  depart. 
Order  my  horse  to  be  saddled.  Tell  some  of  the  staff  to  prepare  to 
accompany  me,  and  then  go  to  Field-Marshal  Lacy,  and  request  him 
to  go  with  me  this  morning  on  a  tour  of  inspection." 

"Lacy, "said  the  emperor,  as  they  galloped  off  together,  "you 
must  prepare  yourself  for  a  long  ride.  We  had  anticipated  an  early 
start  to-day,  and  we  are  punctual.  To  be  sure,  we  are  minus  an 
army,  and  neither  our  hearts  nor  our  trumpets  are  sounding  trium- 
phant blasts  of  victory.  Ah,  friend,  what  miserable  puppets  we  are 
in  the  hands  of  Almighty  God  !  Yesterday  I  was  gazing  exultingly 
upon  the  heaven  of  the  future,  so  clear,  so  blue,  so  silver-bright— 
when  lo  !  the  rustling  of  a  woman's  dress  is  heard,  and  the  sky  of 
my  destiny  grows  black  as  night.  Yesterday  I  fancied  myself  a 
man — to-day  I  am  a  schoolboy  in  disgrace  upon  my  knees.     Oh, 


496  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COUET. 

Lacy,  those  weary  knees  ache  me  so,  that  I  could  sob  for  pain,  were 
it  not  laughable  for  a  commander-in-chief  to  put  his  handkerchief 
to  his  eyes. 

"  Good  God !  Lacy, "  shouted  the  emperor,  suddenly,  while  he 
reined  in  his  horse  until  the  animal  almost  fell  upon  his  haunches, 
"  why  do  you  not  laugh  ?  You  see  that  I  am  doing  my  best  to  divert 
you. " 

"  I  cannot  laugh,  sire,  when  you  yourself  are  suffering  almost  to 
madness !" 

The  emperor  made  no  reply,  but  rode  o-n,  relaxing  his  speed  until 
his  horse  ambled  gently  over  the  road.  "  I-^acy, "  said  he,  finally,  "  I 
am  unreasonable  when  I  murmur  against  destiny,  for  yesterday 
Providence  was  most  benign  toward  me.  Some  other  time,  you  shall 
hear  in  what  manner.  Let  us  quicken  our  pace,  for  to-day  I  must 
visit  all  the  outposts.  I  have  an  ^rder  to  promulgate  to  the  pickets, 
of  which  I  shall  explain  to  you  the  reason  when  we  return. " 

Shortly  after  the  emperor  had  spoken,  they  reached  the  front. 
Joseph  sprang  forward  to  the  very  edge  of  the  river-bank,  and  looked 
earnestly  toward  the  opposite  shore.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen,  save 
far  away  on  the  horizon,  a  few  black  specks  which  showed  the  out- 
posts of  the  enemy.  The  emperor  signed  to  the  officer  on  duty  to 
approach. 

"  Do  the  Prussians  ever  venture  any  nearer?"  asked  he. 

"Yes,  sire.  They  seem  to  be  ofiicers  of  high  rank  making  a 
reconnoissance,  probably  with  a  view  to  finding  a  crossing  for  their 
army.  They  sometimes  approach  so  close  that  the  sharpshooters, 
who  have  eyes  like  telescopes,  recognize  the  King  of  Prussia  in  the 
group. " 

"  It  is  quite  possible  that  in  the  excitement  of  a  survey,  the  king 
may  approach  the  shore.  In  the  event  of  such  an  accident,  I  have  a 
command  to  give  to  your  men.  As  soon  as  they  recognize  the  king, 
they  shall  present  arms,  and  remain  thus  until  he  is  entirely  out  of 
sight.  I  desire,  through  this  courtesy,  to  expess  the  respect  due  to 
a  crowned  head,  a  great  general,  and  a  personal  friend  of  my  own. 
This  order  must  be  strictly  enforced  by  the  officer  of  the  day. "  * 

The  emperor  tiieu  inclined  his  head,  and  rode  off  with  his  staff. 
At  each  outpost  the  order  for  presenting  arms  to  Frederick  was  re- 
peated, and  the  officers  charged  with  its  execution  to  the  letter. 

Late  in  the  day  Joseph  returned  from  his  long  and  tiresome 
visit  of  inspection.  But  si  far  from  suffering  fatigue,  he  sprang 
from  his  horse  with  a  light  bound,  and  his  countenance  was  as  free 
from  gloom  as  it  had  been  before  the  arrival  of  the  Grand  Duke  of 
Tuscany. 

"Lacy,  "said  he,  taking  the  arm  of  the  field -marshal,  "I  am 
about  to  explain  to  you  the  cause  of  my  over-politeness  to  my  ab- 
horred enemy.  You  must  have  been  astounded  at  the  orders  I  have 
been  giving  to-day." 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  surprised.  But  I  thought  that  in  the 
nobleness  of  your  lieart,  sire,  you  were  proving  to  me  that  you  had 
relinquished  all  thouglits  of  revenge. " 

"  Nevertheless,  Lacy,  my  hate  is  unappeased  and  I  have  kept  my 

word.     I  have  already  liad  my  revenge.     I  have  saved  the  King  of 

Prussia  from  the  bullet  of  an  assassin. "  f 

*Tlie  cniperor'.s  own  words.    See  Ciross-HoffiiiKer,  i.,  p.  431. 

tTliis  \v1k)U^  chapter  is  historical.    See  lliedler's  archives  for  1831,  and  Gross- 
Hoffln^er,  i.,  p.  427. 


A  LETTER  TO  THE  EMPRESS  OF  RUSSIA.  497 

CHAPTER    CXXYIII. 

A  LETTER  TO  THE  EMPRESS  OF  RUSSIA. 

With  flushed  face  and  panting  bosom,  Maria  Tlieresa  paced  her 
cabinet,  sometimes  glancing  with  angry  eyes  at  the  heaps  of  papers 
that  covered  her  escritoire;  then  wandering  hastily  to  and  fro,  per- 
fectly insensible  to  the  fatigue  which  in  her  advancing  years  gener- 
ally overwhelmed  her  wlienever  she  attempted  to  move  otherwise 
than  leisurely.  The  empress  had  received  bad  news  from  every 
quarter  ;  but  worst  of  all  were  the  tidings  that  came  from  Bohemia. 
For  more  than  a  year  the  Austrian  and  Prussian  armies  had 
threatened  one  another ;  and  yet  nothing  had  been  accomplished 
toward  the  settlement  of  the  Bavarian  succession. 

Maria  Theresa,  shocked  by  the  threat  which  Joseph  had 
made  to  her  through  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  had  broken  off  her 
negotiations  with  Frederick,  and  had  sacrificed  the  dearest  wishes 
of  her  heart  to  appease  the  fury  of  her  imperial  son.  Notwithstand- 
ing this,  no  battle  had  been  fought,  for  Frederick  was  quite  as 
desirous  as  the  empress  could  be,  to  avoid  an  engagement.  He  had 
declared  war  against  his  old  adversary  with  the  greatest  alacrity ; 
but  when  it  became  necessary  to  manoeuvre  his  army,  the  hero  of  so 
many  fights  was  obliged  to  confess  in  the  secrecy  of  his  own  heart 
that  his  gouty  hand  was  impotent  to  draw  the  sword,  and  his  totter- 
ing limbs  were  fitter  to  sink  into  an  arm-chair  than  to  bestride  a 
war-horse. 

Irritable,  crabbed,  and  low-spirited,  his  campaign  had  proved  a 
disastrous  failui-e.  Instead  of  planning  battles,  he  had  planned 
pillaging  and  foraging  expeditions,  and  his  hungry  and  disaffected 
army  had  converted  the  rich  fields  of  Bohemia  into  a  gloomy  and 
desolate  waste.  At  last  succoring  winter  came  to  the  help  of  the 
oppressed  Bohemians,  and  both  armies  went  into  winter  quarters. 

Maria  Theresa  had  employed  the  season,  which  forced  her  am- 
bitious son  to  inactivity,  in  new  negotiations  for  peace.  Count  von 
Mercy  had  sought  for  intervention  on  the  part  of  France,  and  Baron 
Thugut  had  made  new  proposals  to  Prussia.  Until  to-day  the  em- 
press had  indulged  the  hojje  of  terminating  this  unhappy  and 
ridiculous  war  ;  but  her  hopes  had  been  frustrated  bj-  the  dispatches 
she  had  just  received  from  France  and  Bohemia.  Count  von  Mercy 
wrote  that  so  far  from  accepting  the  role  of  mediator,  the  French 
king  expostulated  with  him  upon  the  injustice  of  the  claims  of  Aus- 
tria, and  earnestly  recommended  their  total  relinquishment  as  the 
only  road  to  peace. 

Another  courier  from  Joseph  announced  that  the  winter  season 
having  almost  closed,  he  hoped  that  he  might  now-  be  permitted  to 
]irosecute  the  war  with  firmness  and  vigor.  Circumstances  were 
favorable  to  Austria,  for  General  Wurmser  had  succeeded  in  sur 
])rising  the  Prince  of  Philippsthal,  and  in  driving  the  Prussian 
garrison  from  their  stronghold.  The  emperor,  therefore,  declared 
his  intention  of  giving  battle  to  Frederick,  that  he  might  at  one 
stroke  free  Bohemia  from  the  presence  of  a  tyrannical  and  merciless 
enemy. 

These  were  the  tidings  which  had  flooded  the  heart  of  the  empress 
with  anguish. 


498  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  I  must  have  peace, "  thouglit  she,  as,  perfectly  unconscious  of 
the  fact,  she  still  paced  the  floor  of  her  cabinet.  "I  cannot  go 
to  my  grave  burdened  with  the  crime  of  an  unrighteous  war. 
Peace  !  peace  !  Heavenly  Father,  send  us  peace  !  Something  I 
must  do,  and  that  at  once  ;  and  if  my  son  still  vituperates  his 
unhappy  mother,  I  know  that  my  subjects,  the  people  of  Germany, 
and  all  Europe,  will  sustain  me  by  their  approbation. " 

Filled  with  the  idea,  she  approached  her  escritoire,  and  again  her 
eyes  rested  upon  the  papers  and  pamphlets  that  lay  there.  Her 
cheeks  flushed  and  her  eyes  flashed  fire,  as  lifting  from  the  desk  a 
heavy  package,  she  threw  it  down  with  violence,  exclaiming  : 

"Has  that  Schrotter  been  printing  another  absurd  pamphlet, 
braying  to  the  world  of  our  rights  to  Bavaria?  I  must  stop  that 
man's  mouth,  and  teach  him  discretion  !" 

Here  the  empress  rang  and  gave  two  messages  to  the  page  who 
answered  the  summons.  "  Let  Prince  Kaunitz  be  informed  that  I 
would  be  happy  to  see  his  highness  as  soon  as  possible.  Send  a  mes- 
senger to  Counsellor  von  Schrotter,  and  let  him  be  here  in  an  hour. " 

So  saying,  the  empress,  who  at  last  began  to  feel  that  she  was 
exercising  her  limbs  beyond  all  power  of  endurance,  sank  into  an 
arm-chair  and  continued  her  reflections.  They  were  any  thing  but 
consolatory.  She  could  not  humble  herself  to  make  any  more  pro- 
posals to  Frederick.  He  was  so  arrogant  that  he  might  answer  in 
such  a  way  as  to  make  war  the  only  alternative  for  Austria.  But 
where  to  go  for  a  mediator?  France  had  refused,  and  Marie  Antoi- 
nette had  with  difficulty  obtained  from  her  husband  a  promise  not 
to  sustain  Prussia. 

"I  have  a  most  disobliging  son-in-law  in  Louis,"  thought  the 
empress,  "  and  if  ]\Iarie  Antoinette  were  not  in  a  condition  where 
anxiety  of  mind  might  be  fatal  to  her  life,  I  should  very  soon  speak 
plainly  to  the  king,  and  let  him  understand  distinctly  how  little  I 
care  for  his  approval  or  disapproval !  But  I  must  l)e  patient  for  my 
daughter's  sake  ;  and  if  she  gives  birth  to  a  dauphin,  I  shall  be  too 
happy  to  quarrel  with  her  stubborn  king.  I  had  reckoned  upon 
France,  however,  and  I  am  disappointed  and  grieved. " 

So  saying,  the  empress  bent  once  more  over  her  papers,  and  this 
time  she  opened  a  dispatch  from  her  ambassador  at  St.  Petersburg. 
She  began  to  read  : 

"  The  King  of  Prussia  is  asking  succor  from  Russia.  The  empress 
is  quite  ready  to  grant  it,  and  has  already  marched  an  auxiliary 
force  into  Galicia.  But  she  exacts  that  her  troops  shall  act  inde- 
pendently of  Frederick,  and  requires  of  him  for  the  prosecution  of 
her  war  with  Tvirkey,  a  subsidy  of  two  million  of  tlialers.  The  king 
is  indignant  at  her  exactions,  so  that  the  opportuuitj'  now  offers  to 
dissolve  this  dangerous  alliance.  If  the  empress-queen  could  bring 
herself  to  pen  a  letter  to  Catharine  requesting  her  intervention — " 

" No, "  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  interrupting  herself,  "to  such 
degradation  I  cannot  stoop !  It  would  be  too  base !"  She  threw 
down  the  letter,  and  frowning  leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand. 
"How,"  thought  she,  "could  a  virtuous  woman  write  to  that  aban- 
doned wretch  who  degrades  the  divine  birthright  of  royalty  by  a 
dissolute  life?  How  could  Maria  Theresa  so  humiliate  herself  as  to 
ask  succor  of  such  a  Messalina  !" 

The  entrance  of  a  pnge  interrupted  the  empress's  meditations. 
His  highness  Prince  Kaunitz  regretted  that  he  was  unable  to  obey 


A  LETTER  TO  THE  EMPRESS   OF  RUSSIA.  499 

her  majesty's  commands,  as  he  was  sick  and  not  able  to  leave  his 
room. 

The  empress  dismissed  the  page,  and  frowned  anew, 

"I  know  perfectly  well  the  nature  of  his  malady,"  thought  she. 
"Wlienever  he  desires  to  consult  with  the  emperor  before  seeing 
me,  he  falls  sick.  Whenever  danger  is  ahead  and  affairs  look 
stormy,  he  retreats  to  his  hole  like  a  discreet  fox.  I  wish  to 
Heaven  that  I  too  could  take  to  my  bed  and  shut  my  eyes  to  all  that 
is  transpiring  around  us  !  But  no, "  continued  the  empress  with  a 
pang  of  self-reproach,  "I  have  no  right  to  retire  from  the  post  of 
danger.  I  must  act,  and  act  quickly,  or  Joseph  will  be  before  me. 
Oh,  my  God,  help  me  in  my  great  need  !" 

She  re-read  the  dispatches  from  her  different  ambassadors,  and 
each  one  breathed  the  same  spirit.  From  every  court  in  Europe 
came  disapprobation  a.nd  blame.  Every  one  of  the  great  powers 
counselled  peace — speedy  peace,  lest  all  should  be  drawn  into  the 
strife,  and  Austria  left  to  the  humiliation  of  struggling  single-handed 
against  every  other  nation  in  Europe. 

The  tears  of  the  empress  flowed  fast.  She  could  see  no  help  on 
earth,  and  how  could  she  feel  otherwise  than  resentful  toward  the 
minister  and  the  son  who  had  brought  her  into  this  mortifying 
position?  Suddenly  she  dried  her  tears  and  once  more  took  up  the 
dispatch  from  St.  Petersburg.  The  silence  in  that  little  room  was 
broken  only  by  her  sighs,  and  the  rustling  of  the  papers  which  she 
held  in  her  hand.  She  paused,  and  those  trembling  hands  fell  into 
her  lap.  She  threw  back  her  head  as  if  trying  to  make  a  difficult 
resolve. 

"There  is  one  way — but  oh,  how  disgraceful!"  murmured  she. 
Again  the  gathering  tears  were  daslied  from  her  eyes,  and  she  tried 
to  read. 

"  It  must  be, "  sighed  she,  as  she  replaced  the  paper  on  the  desk  ; 
"and  if  so,  it  must  lae  done  quickly.  Oh,  my  Creator  !  Thou  alone 
knowest  how  fearful  to  my  heart  is  this  sacrifice  of  womanly  pride  ; 
but  thou  wiliest  my  humiliation,  and  I  submit !  Let  me  drink  the 
chalice !" 

Slie  took  up  her  pen  and  began  to  write.  Often  she  hesitated — 
threw  aside  her  sheet,  and  took  another.  Sometimes  she  read  aloud 
what  she  had  written  ;  then  starting  at  the  sound  of  the  words,  re- 
sumed her  writing  in  silence.  At  last  the  task  was  accomplished, 
and  her  eyes  scanned  the  concluding  paragraph  : 

"  With  the  conviction  that  my  honor  could  be  intrusted  to  no 
abler  hands,  I  leave  it  to  your  majesty,  in  conjunction  with  France, 
to  make  such  propositions  as  you  may  esteem  best  calculated  to  pro- 
mote peace.     In  this  trust  I  remain, 

"Your  majesty's  true  and  devoted  sister, 

"  Maria  Theresa.  "  * 

As  she  read  these  words,  the  cheeks  of  the  empress  crimsoned 
■with  shame,  and,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands,  she  sobbed  aloud. 
When  the  paroxysm  of  her  grief  was  over,  her  face  was  very  pale 
and  her  eyes  dim  and  swollen. 

*  This  letter  of  the  empress  is  yet  in  the  archives  of  St.  Petersburg.  Coxe,  who 
copies  it  word  for  word,  saw  it  there  himself.  See  Coxe's  "  History  of  the  House  of 
A.ustria,"  vol.  iv.,  page  392. 


500  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"I  must  complete  the  humiliation,"  thought  she;  then  folding 
the  letter,  it  was  directed  "To  Her  Majesty  the  Empress  of  Russia." 

She  took  up  a  tiuy  gold  hell,  and  ringing  it  so  that  it  gave  out  but 
a  few  strokes,  a  portiere  was  raised,  and  Koch  entered  the  room. 

"Take  a  copy  of  this  letter,  and  send  a  courier  with  it  to  St. 
Petersburg.  I  have  at  last  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  my  counsellors, 
and  have  written  to  the  Empress  of  Russia.  Peace,  Koch — 7iot  a 
word  ! — my  heart  is  not  yet  strong  enough  to  bear  the  grief  and 
shame  of  this  hour. " 

The  private  secretary  had  scarcely  left  the  room,  when  the  page 
reentered,  announcing  Counsellor  von  Schrotter. 

"  Ah,  "  said  the  empress,  "  he  comes  at  the  right  moment.  I  am 
just  in  the  mood  to  castigate  those  who  have  disjileased  me. " 


CHAPTER    CXXIX. 

THE  GRATITUDE  OP  PRINCES. 

The  message  of  the  empress  had  been  received  by  Counsellor  von 
Schrotter  with  rapture.  His  heart  throbbed  so  joyfully  that  its  every 
beat  sent  the  qviick  blood  bounding  throvigh  his  veins.  The  hour  for 
acknowledgment  of  his  long-tried  services  had  arrived.  For  years 
he  had  lived  a  life  of  labor,  research,  and  patient  investigation. 
Among  tlie  deeds,  parchments,  and  dusty  green  tables  of  the  chan- 
cery, his  youth  had  faded  to  middle  age,  and  of  its  early  hopes  had 
retained  but  one  single  earthly  ambition  :  it  was  that  of  taking  a 
place  ainong  learned  men,  and  becoming  an  autliority  of  some  weight 
in  the  judicial  world.  His  pamphlets  on  the  Bavarian  succession 
had  lifted  him  to  fume,  and  now  among  his  countrymen  his  name 
was  beginning  to  be  quoted  as  that  of  a  great  and  accomplished 
jurist.  Nothing  was  needed  to  complete  the  measure  of  his  simple 
joys,  save  the  ajiprobation  of  the  court,  and  some  acknowledgment 
on  the  part  of  his  sovereign  of  the  fidelity  with  Avhich  he  had  labored 
for  so  many  years  in  her  behalf. 

This  precious  tribute  he  was  called  upon  to  receive.  He  was  to 
speak  himself  with  the  Empress  of  Austria.  So  excited  was  he  by 
the  thought,  that  the  strong  man  trembled  from  head  to  foot ;  he 
was  even  more  agitated  than  he  had  been  twenty  years  before,  when 
lie  had  received  his  diploma  as  doctor  of  laws.  Pale,  but  inexpres- 
sibly happy,  he  stood  upon  the  threshold  of  the  empress's  cabinet, 
and  awaited  her  permission  to  approach  and  kiss  her  beloved  and 
honored  hand. 

Maria  Tlieresa  saw  him  and  spoke  not  a  word.  She  sat  immov- 
able in  her  arm-cliair,  darting  lightning  glances  upon  the  imcon- 
scious  counsellor,  and  growing  every  moment  more  enraged  at  tlie 
thought  of  his  impertinent  researches,  until  the  storm  burst  with  all 
its  fiu-y  upon  his  head.  The  empress  clutched  the  pamphlets  which 
lay  near  her  upon  the  table,  and  rising  from  her  chair,  strode 
through  the  room  to  the  door  wliere  the  imhappy  author  stood. 

"Did  you  write  these  hroehiives?"  asked  she. 

"Yes,  your  majesty,"  said  Von  Schrotter  with  a  happy  smile. 

"Read  the  title-page. " 

Von  Schrotter  read  :  "The  rights  and  measures  of  her  imperial, 
royal,  and  ai)Ostolic  majesty  in  reference  to  the  Bavarian  succession. " 


'       THE  GRATITUDE  OF  PEINCES.  501 

"  Now  read  the  title  of  your  first  pamphlet. " 

"  Impartial  thoughts  ou  the  various  questions  arising  from  the 
succession  of  Maximilian  Joseph.  " 

"  You  acknowledge  the  authorship  of  these  two  brochures  ?  " 

"  I  am  proud  to  acknowledge  them,  your  majesty. " 

"Whence  it  follows  that  you  are  proud  to  be  the  cause  of  the  un- 
holy war  which  now  rages  throughout  Germany, "  said  the  empress 
in  a  voice  of  indignation.  ''  It  is  you,  then,  whose  pen  has  meta- 
morphosed itself  into  a  sword  wherewith  to  take  the  lives  of  thou- 
sands of  good  and  honest  men  !  What  right  had  you  to  publish 
'impartial  thoughts  upon  the  Bavarian  succession?'  I  suppose  you 
had  an  idea  that  in  so  doing,  you  were  proving  to  the  world  what  an 
important  part  you  play  in  the  affairs  of  the  nation  !" 

"  Your  majesty, "  stamiiiered  Von  Schrotter,  utterly  at  a  loss  to 
understand  his  crime — "your  majesty,  through  Prince  Kaunitz,  con- 
veyed to  me  j'^our  entire  satisfaction  with  my  researches  into  the 
imperial  archives,  and  the  emperor  himself  requested  me  to  write 
the  second  pamphlet. " 

"  I  am  in  no  wise  indebted  to  you  for  your  complaisance, "  replied 
the  empress  ;  "  for  your  ink  has  changed  itself  into  blood,  and  your 
stupid  vagaries,  hatched  in  the  comfortable  quiet  of  your  own  room, 
have  driven  my  poor  soldiers  from  their  homes,  out  into  the  pitiless 
storm  of  hardship,  danger,  and  death.  What  right  had  you  to  med- 
dle with  the  difficulties  of  the  succession'?  Did  you  expect  that,  in 
gratitude  for  your  valuable  services  to  the  crown,  I  would  reward 
you  with  a  title  and  an  estate  in  Bavaria?" 

"No,  your  majesty,"  replied  Von  Schrotter,  blushing,  "I  was  but 
doing  my  duty  as  a  jurist  and  civil  officer  of  the  crown." 

"  And  do  you  suppose  you  have  succeeded  in  proving  any  thing 
with  your  rubbish?"  asked  the  empress,  scornfully.  "Do  you  im- 
agine that  any  one  woud  take  the  trouble  to  read  your  balderdash?" 

"In  defending  the  claims  of  the  crown,  I  was  performing  an  act 
of  sacred  duty  toward  my  country,"  replied  Von  Schrotter,  embold- 
ened to  reply,  by  a  just  sense  of  the  indignity  offered  him. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  something  of  the  vanity  of  authors,"  said  the 
empress.  "They  imagine  themselves  to  be  Atlas,  each  one  with  the 
world  ujDon  his  shoulders,  which  must  certainly  fall,  if  they  are  not 
there  to  uphold  it.  I,  however,  take  the  liberty  of  judging  that  if 
they  were  all  to  be  blown  to  atoms,  nobody  would  be  the  worse  for 
their  disappearance.  What  has  come  of  your  writings?  A  paper 
war  of  such  dimensions,  that  I  think  the  foul  fiend  must  have 
plucked  all  the  geese  in  Avernus,  and  have  thrown  their  quills  at 
your  heads.  What  with  your  imbecile  pens,  nobody  knows  who  is 
right !" 

"But,  your  majesty, "  remonstrated  Von  Schrotter,  "discussion  is 
indispensable  to  the  discovery  of  truth,  and  as  I  am  sure  that  I  have 
contributed  to  this  discovery,  I  cannot  regret  what  I  have  done." 

"Ah,  indeed  !"  exclaimed  the  enraged  empress.  "You  think  you 
have  contributed  to  the  discovery  of  truth  !  I  will  tell  you  to  what 
you  have  contributed,  sir  :  you  are  the  cause  that  the  emperor  be- 
came so  headstrong  on  the  subject,  that  sooner  than  give  up  Bavaria, 
he  has  involved  me  in  war  ;  you  are  the  cause  that  the  whole  world 
has  had  something  to  say  on  the  sul^ject  of  our  claims  ;  whereas,  had 
you  held  your  tongue,  they  might  have  passed  for  what  they  are  not 
—just.     You  are  the  cause  that  my  days  are  spent  in  sorrow,  and  my 


502  JOSEPH    II.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

nig-hts  are  sleepless;  that  in  the  despair  of  my  heart,  I  have  been 
reduced  to  write  to  a  woman  whom  I  despise !  Yes,  of  all  this  you 
are  the  cause,  and  more  than  this — you  will  be  guilty  of  mydea'th; 
for  I  repeat  to  you  that  this  war  has  broken  my  heart,  and  will  be 
the  last  nail  in  my  coffin.*  When  my  people,  then,  mourn  for  my 
death  (and  I  hope  that  they  will  regret  me), you  may  boast  of  hav- 
ing compassed  it  yourself;  and  from  my  grave  I  shall  arise  to—" 

"  No  moi-e,  your  majesty,  no  more!  Spare  me,  in  mercy," 
sobbed  he,  "  if  you  would  not  see  me  die  at  your  feet!" 

"  And  I  presume  you  would  consider  it  a  great  misfortune  for 
Austria  if  you  were  no  longer  able  to  unsheathe  your  goose-quill 
in  her  defence.  There  is  no  danger  of  your  dying  from  the 
wounds  inflicted  by  my  tongue;  but  I  am  resolved  that  you  shall 
carry  their  marks  to  the  g-rave  with  you.  This  is  all  I  had  to  say 
to  you;  you  are  dismissed." 

"  But,  your  majesty,"  replied  Von  Schrotter,  "  I  have  some- 
thing to  say— I  must  defend  myself." 

"You  must  defend  yourself!"  cried  Maria  Theresa,  surveying 
him  witli  a  look  of  ineffable  disdain.  "  Defend  yourself  to  God — I 
am  not  disposed  to  listen  to  your  defence. " 

"  But,  your  majesty — " 

"Peace!"  thundered  the  empress.  "Who  dares  speak  when  I 
have  ordered  him  from  my  presence?  Go  home,  and  ponder  my 
words. " 

So  saying,  she  walked  back  to  her  seat.  But  seeing  that  Von 
Schrotter's  lips  were  parted  as  if  in  an  attempt  to  say  something, 
she  snatched  her  bell,  and  rang  it  so  loud  that  in  its  clang  his  words 
were  lost. 

"  Counsellor  Von  Schrotter  is  dismissed, "  said  she  to  the  page. 
"  Open  the  doors,  that  he  may  pass. " 

Von  Schrotter  gasped  out  a  convulsive  sigh,  and  scarcely  knowing 
what  he  did,  turned  one  last  sad  look  upon  his  cruel  sovereign,  and 
bowing  his  head,  left  the  room. 

When  his  tall,  majestic  form  had  disappeared  from  her  sight,  the 
empress  said : 

"  Ah  ! — that  outburst  has  done  me  good.  And  now  that  I  have 
driven  away  humiliation  by  anger,  I  shall  go  and  pray  to  God  to  bless 
the  sacrifice  I  have  made  to-daj^  for  the  good  of  my  people. " 

She  rang  the  bell,  assembled  her  ladies  of  honor,  and  with  them 
entered  the  private  chapel  which  had  lately  been  added  to  her  own 
apartments.  Slie  knelt  before  the  first  xiHe-Dieu  that  presented 
itself,  and  her  attendants  knelt  around  her. 

Whilst  the  empress  was  praying,  Von  Schrotter  returned  to  the 
home,  which  an  hour  sooner,  he  had  left  witli  a  heart  so  full  of  hope 
and  ecstasy.  He  had  not  a  word  for  his  old  house-keeper,  who 
opened  the  door  to  admit  him  ;  and  motioning  away  the  servant  who 
would  have  shown  him  into  the  dining-room,  he  ascended  tlie  stair- 
case with  slow,  uncertain  steps,  his  hands  clinging  to  the  balustrade, 
his  head  so  heavy  tliat  he  scarce  could  bear  its  weight.  The  servants 
stood  below  in  sorrowful  amazement.  Tliey  had  never  seen  their 
master  so  agitated  in  liis  life  before;  they  could  scarcely  believe 
that  this  ghastly  being  was  the  dignified  and  stately  man  "who  had 
left  them  but  an  hour  before.  Suddenly  they  started,  for  surely 
they  heard  a  loud  laugli  froni  tlie  study,  but  what  a  laugh  ! — so  wild, 

*  Maria  Theresa's  own  words. 


FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  503 

so  unearthly,  that  it  sounded  like  the  dreadful  mirth  of  a  madman  I 
— Then  all  was  silent.  Presently  there  came  the  sound  of  a  heavy 
fall. 

"That  is  our  master  !  Some  misfortune  has  befallen  him,"  cried 
the  servants,  hurrying  vip  the  stairs  and  bursting  into  the  room. 

On  the  floor,  surrounded  by  the  books  vehich  had  been  the  pride 
and  solace  of  a  harmless  life,  lay  the  counsellor  weltering  in  his 
blood. 

"He  has  broken  a  blood-vessel!"  cried  the  house-keeper,  with  a 
sob,  while  the  other  servant  ran  for  a  physician.  The  old  woman 
raised  her  dear  master's  head,  and  his  bloody  lips  parted  with  a 
ghastly  smile. 

•'Thii:  is  the  gratitude  of  princes!"  murmured  he  almost  inau- 
dibly.     "  Such  is  the  reward  of  him  who  loves  his  country  !" 

"What  is  it,  my  dear,  dear  master  ?"  faltered  the  faithful  servant, 
in  vain  seeking  to  penetrate  the  meaning  of  his  words.  "Why  do 
you  stare  at  me  so  horribly?    What  has  distressed  you?" 

He  moved  as  though  he  would  have  raised  his  head.  "This  is 
Austria's  gratitude  !"  cried  he  in  a  loud  voice  ;  then,  forth  from  his 
lips  gurgled  the  purple  stream  of  life,  and  his  words  died  into  hoarse, 
inaudible  mutterings. 

The  physician  came  in,  followed  by  the  valet,  and  together  they 
raised  the  sufferer  and  placed  him  upon  his  bed.  The  doctor  then 
felt  his  pulse  and  his  chest,  and  bent  down  to  catch  his  breathings. 
He  shook  his  head  mournfully  and  called  to  tlie  weeping  servants. 

"  He  is  dying, "  said  he.  "  Some  fearful  shock  that  he  has  received 
has  induced  a  hemorrhage,  which  in  a  few  hours  will  end  his  life. " 

Maria  Theresa  rose  from  her  i:)rayers,  comforted  and  light  of 
heart.  And  as  she  left  the  chapel,  the  man  whom  she  had  crushed 
to  the  earth  by  her  unjust  anger,  drew  his  last  sigh.* 


CHAPTER    CXXX. 

FREDERICK     THE     GREAT. 

King  Frederick  and  his  Prussians  were  still  encamped  at  Wild- 
sclii'itz.  His  army  was  weary  of  inactivity,  and  every  morning  the 
longing  eyes  of  his  soldiers  turned  toward  the  little  gray  house  at 
the  end  of  the  village  where  the  king  and  his  staff  were  quartered, 
vainly  hoping  to  see  their  Fritz  in  the  saddle,  eager,  bold,  and  dar- 
ing as  he  had  ever  been  until  now.  The  men  were  destitute  of  every 
thing.  Not  only  their  food  was  exhausted,  but  their  forage  also. 
Bohemia  had  been  plundered  until  nothing  remained  for  man  or 
beast.  The  inhabitants  had  fled  to  the  interior,  their  villages  and 
farms  were  a  waste,  and  still  the  King  of  Prussia  insisted  that  his 
army  should  subsist  upon  the  enemy. 

The  men  were  in  despair,  and  the  officers  began  to  apprehend  a 
mutiny,  for  the  former  were  surly,  and  no  amount  of  conciliatory 
words  could  ai:ipease  their  hunger  or  feed  their  horses. 

"We  must  see  the  king,  we  must  speak  to  old  Fritz!"  cried  the 
malcontents  ;  and  with  this  ciy  a  crowd  of  artillerymen  made  their 
way  to  headquarters. 

*  This  whole  chapter  is  historical.    Hormayer   "  Austrian  Plutarch,"  vol.  vi. 
33 


504  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  We  must  see  the  king  !  Where  is  old  Fritz?  Has  he  ceased  to 
care  for  his  soldiers?"  repeated  the  crowd. 

"No,  friends,  I  am  ready  to  listen,"  said  a  soft  voice,  which, 
nevertheless,  was  heard  above  the  din,  and  the  king,  clad  in  his 
well-known  uniform,  appeared  at  the  window. 

The  soldiers  received  him  with  a  cheer,  and  at  the  sight  of  the 
well-beloved  countenance,  they  forgot  their  need,  and  shouted  for 

joy. 

"What  is  it?"  said  Frederick,  when  the  tumult  had  died  away. 

One  of  the  men,  as  spokesman,  stepped  forward.  "  We  wanted  to 
see  our  old  Fritz  once  more ;  we  can  scarcely  believe  that  he  sees 
our  wants  and  yet  will  do  nothing  to  relieve  them. " 

"  You  see  7jmie, "  said  Frederick,  smiling,  "and,  as  you  perceive, 
I  am  scarcely  better  off  than  yourselves.  Do  you  think  this  a  fit 
residence  for  a  king?" 

"It  is  a  dog-kennel !"  cried  the  soldiers. 

"And  is  that  all  you  have  to  say  to  me?" 

"No,  sire,  it  is  not.  If  our  king  can  do  nothing  for  us,  at  least 
let  him  rescue  our  horses  from  starvation.  We  are  men,  and  our 
reason  lielps  us  to  bear  privations  ;  but  it  is  a  sin  to  keep  our  horses 
here  witliout  food.  We  beseech  your  majesty,  give  us  forage  for 
our  horses  !"  And  the  others  repeated  in  chorus  :  "  Forage,  forage, 
give  us  forage  for  our  horses  !" 

Meanwhile,  the  king  had  closed  his  window  and  had  retired  to 
the  other  end  of  his  house.  This  made  the  soldiers  frantic,  and  they 
screamed  and  shouted  louder  than  ever  : 

"  Give  us  forage  for  our  horses  !" 

Suddenly  the  voice  which  had  so  often  led  them  to  victory,  was 
aeard  at  the  door  : 

"  Peace,  you  noisy  rebels,  peace,  I  say  !" 

And  on  the  steps  before  his  wretched  cabin,  stood  Frederick,  sur- 
rounded by  the  principal  officers  of  his  army. 

"Sire,""  said  one  of  the  king's  staff,  "shall  we  disperse  them?" 

"Why  so?"  replied  Frederick,  curtly.  "Have  my  poor  soldiers 
not  the  right  to  appeal  to  me  for  help?  Speak,  my  children,  speak 
without  fear  !" 

"  Forage,  sire,  forage— our  horses  are  dying  like  flies  ! 

"You  see,"  said  the  king  to  his  officers,  "these  poor  fellows  ask 
nothing  for  themselves.    Why  is  it  that  they  have  no  forage  for  their 

horses?" 

"  Sire, "  replied  the  officers,  deprecatingly,  "  as  long  as  tliere  re- 
mained a  hay-stack  or  a  storehouse  in  this  part  of  Bohemia,  your 
majesty's  army  was  fed  by  the  enemy.  But  the  country  is  stripped 
of  every  thing.  The  inhabitants  themselves  liave  been  obliged  to 
fly  from  starvation. " 

"  Starvation  !"  echoed  the  king.  "  I  will  warrant  that,  while  the 
horses  of  the  privates  are  suffering  for  food,  those  of  the  officers  are 
well  provided." 

"Your  majesty !" 

"Do  not  interrupt  me,  but  let  all  the  forage  belonging  to  the  chief 
officers  of  the  army  be  brought  at  once,  and  placed  before  these  men. 
They  can  wait  here  until  it  comes,  and  then  divide  it  between  them. 
Are  you  satisfied,  my  children?" 

"Yes.  yes,"  cried  the  men,  shouting  for  joy  at  the  prospect  of  the 
abundance  about  to  be  vouchsafed  to  them. 


FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  505 

The  officers,  on  the  contrary,  were  deeply  humiliated,  and  beheld 
the  proceedings  with  gloomy  discontent. 

Frederick  pretended  not  to  perceive  their  dissatisfaction.  He 
stood  with  his  hat  drawn  down  over  his  brows,  leaning  for  support 
upon  the  crutch-cane  which,  of  late,  had  been  his  inseparable 
companion. 

Occasionally,  when  a  soldier  came  up  with  his  bundle  of  hay,  the 
king  glanced  quickly  around,  and  then  looked  down  again.  The 
artillerymen  gradually  ceased  their  noisy  demonstrations,  and  now, 
with  anxious,  expectant  faces,  they  looked  at  the  king,  the  officers, 
and  then  at  the  very  small  amount  of  forage  which  was  being  placed 
before  tliem. 

Just  then  an  adjutant  bowed  to  the  king,  and  announced  that  the 
last  bundle  of  hay  had  been  set  before  his  majesty. 

Frederick  raised  his  eyes,  and  sadly  contemplated  the  miserable 
little  heap  of  forage  which  betokened  with  so  much  significance  the 
destitution  of  his  brave  army. 

"Is  this  all?"  said  he. 

"Yes,  sire,  all—" 

"  It  is  well.  Now, "  continued  he  to  the  artillerymen,  "  divide 
this  between  you.  Had  my  officers  been  more  selfish,  your  horses 
would  have  fared  better.  But  you  see  that  my  generals  and  adjutants 
are  as  noble  and  self-sacrificing  as  yourselves  ;  and  unless  you  man- 
age to  forage  for  us  all,  we  shall  all  starve  together.  I  have  called 
for  this  hay  to  prove  to  you  that  your  officers  were  not  revelling  in 
plenty  while  you  were  suffering  for  want.  Take  it,  and  do  not  ask 
for  that  which  I  cannot  give  you." 

The  artillerymen  looked  almost  ashamed  of  their  clamor,  while 
the  faces  of  the  officers  brightened,  and  their  eyes  turned  with  love 
and  admiration  upon  the  man  whose  tact  had  so  entirely  justified 
them  to  their  men. 

The  king  pretended  to  see  their  delight  as  little  as  he  had  feigned 
to  see  their  mortification.  He  seemed  wholly  absorbed  watching  the 
soldiers,  who  were  now  striving  together  as  to  who  was  to  have  the 
remnants  of  forage  that  was  far  from  being  enough  to  allow  each 
man  a  bundle.* 

Finally  Frederick  withdrew  to  his  cabin,  and,  once  alone,  he  fell 
into  the  leathern  arm-chair  which  was  the  only  piece  of  furniture 
in  the  room  besides  a  bed  and  a  table. 

"  This  will  never  do, "  thought  he,  sorrowfully.  "We  must  either 
retreat  or  advance.  This  war  is  a  miserable  failure — the  impotent 
efi'ort  of  a  shattered  old  man  whose  head  is  powerless  to  plan,  and 
his  hand  to  execute.  How  often  since  I  entered  upon  this  farcical 
campaign,  have  I  repeated  those  words  of  Boileau  : 

'  Malheureux,  laisse  en  paix  ton  cheval  vieillissant 
De  peur  que  tout  a  coup  essoufle,  sans  haleine, 
II  ne  laisse  en  tombant,  son  niaitre  sur  rarene.''t 

Why  did  I  undertake  this  war?     Why  had  I  not  discretion  enough 
to  remain  at  home,  and  secure  the  happiness  of  my  own  people  ?" 

The  king  sighed,  and  his  head  sank  upon  his  breast.  He  sat  thus 
for  some  time  in  deep  discouragement ;  but  presently  he  repeated  to 
himself : 

*  Dohm's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  158. 
t  Frederick's  own  words. 


506  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Why  did  I  undertake  this  war — why?"  echoed  he  aloud.  "For 
the  honor  and  safety  of  Germany.  How  sorely  soever  war  may  press 
upon  my  age  and  infii-mities,  it  is  my  duty  to  check  the  ambition  of 
a  house  whose  greed  has  no  bounds,  save  those  which  are  made  for 
it  by  the  resistance  of  another  power  as  resolute  as  itself.  I  am, 
therefore,  the  champion  of  German  liberties,  and  cannot,  must  not 
sheathe  my  sword.  But  this  inactivity  is  demoralizing  my  army, 
iind  it  must  come  to  an  end.  We  must  retreat  or  advance — then  let 
us  advance !" 

Here  the  king  rang  his  bell.  A  valet  entered,  whoin  he  ordered 
to  go  at  once  to  the  generals  and  staff -officers  and  bid  them  assemble 
at  headquarters  in  fifteen  minutes  from  that  time. 

"Gentlemen, "  said  the  king,  "we  cross  the  Elbe  to-morrow." 

At  these  words  every  countenance  there  grew  bright,  and  every 
voice  was  raised  in  one  long  shout : 

"  Long  live  the  king  !     Long  live  Frederick  the  Great !" 

The  king  tried  his  best  to  look  unmoved. 

"  Peace  !  peace  !  you  silly,  old  fellows, "  said  he.  "  What  do  you 
svippose  the  boj^s  will  do  out  there,  if  you  raise  such  a  clamor  in- 
doors?   Do  you  approve  of  the  move  ?    Speak,  General  Keller. " 

"  Sire,  while  out  on  a  reconnoissance  yesterday,  I  discovered  a 
crossing  where  we  may  go  safely  over,  without  danger  from  the 
enemy's  bullets." 

"  Good.     Are  you  all  of  one  mind?" 

A  long  shout  was  the  answer,  and  when  it  had  subsided,  the  king 
smiled  grimly  and  nodded  his  head. 

"We  are  all  of  one  mind,  then.  To-morrow  we  engage  the 
enemy.  And  now  to  horse !  We  must  reconnoitre  the  position 
which  General  Keller  has  chosen,  and  part  of  our  troops  must  cross 
to-night. " 


CHAPTER    CXXXI. 

"the  darkest  hour  is  before  day." 

A  few  moments  later  the  officers  were  mounted,  and  the  king's 
horse  stood  before  his  door.  Frederick,  coming  forward,  with  some- 
thing of  his  youthful  elasticity,  tried  to  raise  himself  in  the  sad- 
dle ;  but  he  stopped,  and  with  an  expression  of  great  suffering 
withdrew  his  foot  from  the  stirrup. 

The  old  hero  had  forgotten  that  the  gout  was  holding  him 
prisoner.  His  face  flushed  with  disappointment,  as  he  called  his 
lackeys  to  his  help.  But  once  in  the  saddle,  the  king  struck  his 
spurs  with  such  violence  into  his  horse's  flanks,  that  the  animal 
leaped  into  the  air,  and  bounded  ofi"  in  a  swift  gallop. 

Whether  Frederick  had  intended  to  prove  to  his  officers  that  he 
was  as  bold  a  horseman  as  ever,  or  whether  he  had  yielded  to  a 
momentary  impulse  of  anger,  he  suffered  kee"nly  for  his  bravado ; 
for  at  every  bound  of  the  horse,  his  agony  increased.  Finally  he 
could  endure  no  more.  He  came  to  a  complete  stand,  and  requested 
his  suite  to  slacken  their  pace.  They  rode  on  in  perfect  silence, 
the  officers  casting  stolen  glances  at  the  king,  whose  lips  quivered, 
while  his  face  grew  every  moment  paler  with  suppressed  anguish. 
But  he  boro  it  all  without  a  sigh,  until  they  had  reached  the  iioint 


"THE  DARKEST  HOUR  IS  BEFORE  DAY."  507 

for  which  they  started.  Having  accurately  surveyed  it,  Frederick 
turned  his  horse's  head,  and  rode  back  to  his  quarters. 

This  time  lie  had  not  only  to  be  lifted  from  his-  horse,  but  to  be 
carried  to  his  room.  Once  there,  he  signed  to  his  attendants  to  leave 
him.  He  felt  the  imperious  necessity  of  being  alone  with  his 
afflicted  mind  and  body.     He  leaned  his  head  back,  and  murmui'ed  : 

"  Malheureux,  laisse  en  paix  ton  cheval  vieillissant ! " 

Then,  closing  his  eyes,  he  quoted  the  sacred  Scriptures  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  without  irreverent  intention. 

"The  spirit  is  willing,"  sighed  the  wretched  unbeliever,  "but  the 
flesh  is  weak." 

He  remained  pondering  over  those  truthful  words  for  several  mo- 
ments ;  then  casting  liis  eyes  over  the  various  objects  that  lay  upon 
his  table,  they  lit  upon  the  little  leather- covered  box,  which  con- 
tained his  flute.  For  some  time  past  his  perplexities  had  been  so 
great  that  he  had  held  no  intercourse  with  this  object  of  his  life-long 
affection  ;  but  now  he  felt  as  if  its  tones  would  be  consolatory. 
And  with  trembling,  eager  hands  he  unfastened  the  case,  and  raised 
the  instrument  to  his  lips.  But  alas  !  the  flute,  like  its  adorer,  was 
superannuated.  Wearily  came  its  feeble  notes  upon  the  air,  each 
one  hoarse  as  the  wind  whistling  through  a  ruined  abbey.* 

Frederick  had  played  but  a  few  bars  of  his  adagio  when  his  hands 
fell  slowly,  and  the  flute  rolled  upon  the  table.  He  contemplated  it 
for  a  while,  then  his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  which  fell  rapidly  down 
his  cheeks.     A  mournful  smile  flickered  over  his  countenance. 

"  Well, "  said  he,  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  dis- 
graceful in  the  tears  of  an  old  man  over  the  last,  faithful  friend  of 
his  youth. " 

With  these  words  he  replaced  the  flute  in  the  case,  and  locked  it, 
murmuring  : 

"  Farewell,  forever,  my  life-long  solace  !" 

Just  then,  a  thousand  voices  shouted  : 

"  Long  live  the  king  !     Long  live  old  Fritz  !" 

"They  are  rejoicing  over  the  approaching  battle,"  thought  Fred- 
erick. "But  their  hopes,  like  mine,  are  destined  to  be  crushed. 
Instead  of  crossing  the  Elbe,  we  must  retire  to  Silesia.  Old  age  has 
vanquished  me — and  from  such  a  defeat  no  man  can  ever  rally. 

"Well,  well !  We  must  take  the  world  as  it  comes,  and  if  I  can 
neither  fight  nor  play  on  the  flute,  I  can  still  talk  and  write.  My 
eulogy  on  Voltaire  is  not  yet  completed — I  must  finish  it  to-day,  that 
it  may  be  read  before  the  Academy  at  Berlin,  on  the  anniversary  of 
his  death. "  f 

Selecting  from  among  his  papers  the  manuscript  he  wanted, 
Frederick  took  up  his  pen  and  began  to  write. 

Gradually  the  songs  and  shouts  of  the  soldiers  ceased,  and  the 
king  was  consoling  himself  for  the  loss  of  music  by  flinging  himself 
into  the  arms  of  poetry,  when  a  knock  was  heard  at  his  door,  and 
his  valet  announced  the  secretary  of  Count  Gallitzin. 

Frederick's  heart  throbbed  with  joy,  and  his  great  eagle  eyes  were 
so  strangely  lit  up,  that  the  valet  could  not  imagine  what  had  caused 
such  an  illumination  of  his  royal  master's  features. 

*  It  was  during  the  war  of  the  Bavarian  Siiccessiou  tliat  Frederick  found  himself 
compelled  to  give  U))  the  flute.  His  embouchure  had  been  destroyed  by  the  loss  of 
his  front  teeth,  and  his  hands  trembled  so  that  he  could  scarcely  hold  the  instnmient 

t  Voltaire  died  in  May,  1778,  and  Frederick,  while  in  camp  in  Bohemia,  wrote  a 
poem  ou  liib  death. 


508  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Thugut, "  cried  the  king;  "is  Thugut  here  again?  Admit  him 
immediately." 

By  the  time  .that  Baron  Thugut  had  appeared  at  the  door,  Fred- 
erick had  so  forced  down  his  joy,  that  he  received  the  envoy  of  the 
empress-queen  with  creditable  indifference. 

"Well,  barou,"said  he,  with  a  careless  nod,  "you  come  again. 
When  tlie  foul  fiend  comes  for  the  third  time,  he  must  either  bag  a 
man's  soul,  or  give  it  up  forever." 

"I  feel  flattered,  sire,  by  tlie  comparison  your  majesty  makes  of 
me  to  so  great  and  powerful  a  potentate,"  replied  the  baron, 
laughing. 

"You  believe  in  the  devil,  then,  although  you  deny  the 
Lord. " 

."  Certainly,  sire,  for  I  have  never  yet  seen  a  trace  of  the  one,  and 
the  other  I  meet  everywhere. " 

"  For  an  ambassador  of  Maria  Theresa,  your  opinions  are  tolerably 
heterodox, "  said  Frederick.  "But  tell  me  what  brings  you  hither? 
You  must  not  expect  me  to  continue  our  interrupted  negotiations. 
If  the  empress-queen  sends  you  to  claim  ever  so  small  a  portion  of 
Bavaria,  I  tell  you,  beforehand,  that  it  is  useless  to  say  a  word. 
Austria  must  renounce  her  pretensions  or  continue  the  war." 

"Sire,  I  come  witli  new  propositions.  Here  are  my  credentials, 
if  your  majesty  is  at  leisure  to  examine  them,  and  here  is  a  letter 
from  the  hand  of  my  revered  sovereign. " 

"  And  what  is  that?"  asked  Frederick,  pointing  to  a  roll  of  papers, 
tied  up  with  twine. 

"  Those  are  my  documents,  together  with  the  papers  relating  to 
the  past  negotiations. " 

"I  think  that  I  have  already  refused  to  go  over  these  negoti- 
ations," said  Frederick,  sharply  ;  and  without  further  ceremony,  he 
broke  tlie  seal  of  the  empress's  letter.  While  the  king  read, 
Thugut  busied  liimself  untying  his  roll  and  spreading  his  papers 
out  vipon  the  table. 

"This  is  nothing  but  a  letter  of  credentials,"  observed  the  king, 
putting  it  down.  "The  empress  refers  me  to  you  for  verbal  explan- 
ations.    I  am  ready  to  hear  them." 

"Sire,  the  empress-queen,  animated  by  a  heartfelt  desire  to  re- 
stoi'e  peace  to  Germany,  has  called  upon  France  and  Russia  to  settle 
the  diificulties  which,  to  her  sincere  regret,  have  arisen  between 
herself  and  your  majesty.  These  two  powers,  having  responded 
favorably  to  my  sovereign's  request — " 

"Say,  rather,"  interrupted  Frederick,  "that  these  two  powers 
having  given  to  her  majesty  of  Austria  the  somewhat  pereruptory 
advice  to  relimiuish  her  pretensions  to  Bavaria — " 

Baron  Thugut  bowed,  and  resumed  :  "  That  the  two  powers  may 
have  the  opportunity  of  conducting  their  negotiations  without  any 
new  complications  from  military  movements,  her  maji^sty,  the 
empress,  proposes  an  armistice,  to  begin  from  to-day." 

Up  to  tliis  moment  the  king's  eyes  had  been  fixed  upon  Thugut ; 
but  as  lie  heard  these  few  last  words,  he  dropped  them  suddenly. 
He  was  so  overjoj^ed,  that  he  was  afraid  to  betray  his  raptures  to  the 
diplomatist.  He  recovered  himself  in  time.  "Did  you  come 
through  my  camp?"  said  he  to  the  baron. 

"Yes,  sire." 

"  You  heard  the  shouts  and  songs  of  my  brave  Prussians.     Were 


THE  EMPEROR  AND  HIS  MOTHER.  509 

you  told  that  I  intend  to  cross  the  Elbe,  and  offer  battle  to  your  em- 
peror to-morrow?" 

"  Yes,  sire,  I  was  told  so. " 

"And  at  the  very  moment  when  I  am  prepared  to  fight,  you  come 
to  me  with  proposals  of  armistice  !  You  i^erceive  that  I  could  only 
be  brought  to  consent  to  a  truce  through  my  consideration  for  the 
empress,  provided  she  oiiered  sound  guaranties  for  the  conclusion 
of  an  honorable  peace.     Let  us  hear  yovir  proposals. " 

The  interview  between  the  king  and  the  secret  envoy  of  the  em- 
press was  long  and  animated.  When  the  latter  was  about  to  take 
leave,  Frederick  nodded  condescendingly,  saying  : 

"Well!  I  consent  to  make  this  sacrifice  to  the  wishes  of  the 
empress.  You  can  inform  her,  that  instead  of  giving  battle  to  the 
emperor,  as  I  had  hoped  to  do  on  the  morrow,  I  shall  retreat  to 
Silesia,  and  retire  into  winter  quarters. " 

"And  your  majesty  promises  equitable  conditions,  and  will  con- 
sult with  the  Russian  ambassador?" 

"I  promise,  and  the  empress-queen  may  rely  upon  me.  Fare- 
well. "  The  envoy  turned  to  depart,  but  before  he  reached  the  door 
the  king  called  him  back. 

"Baron,"  said  he  with  a  significant  smile,  "you  have  forgotten 
something. "  Here  he  pointed  to  the  twine  which  had  fallen  on  the 
floor,  and  lay  near  the  baron's  chair.  "Take  what  belongs  to  you  ; 
I  never  enrich  myself  with  the  possessions  of  others. " 

When  the  door  closed,  the  king  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven.  "Is  it 
chance,  or  Providence,  that  has  succored  me  to-day?"  thought  he. 
"Which  of  the  two  has  vouchsafed  me  such  honorable  deliverance 
in  my  extremity?" 


CHAPTER    CXXXII. 

THE  EMPEROR   AJJD  HIS  MOTHER. 

It  was  a  day  of  double  rejoicing  in  Vienna,  at  once  the  celebra- 
tion of  peace,  and  of  Maria  Theresa's  sixty-second  birthday.  For 
three  months  the  seven  envoys  of  Austria,  Prussia,  Rvissia,  France, 
Bavaria,  Zweibriicken,  and  Saxony,  had  been  disentangling  the 
threads  of  the  Bavarian  succession.  For  three  months  Joseph  had 
hoped  and  prayed  that  the  debates  of  the  peace  congress  might  come 
to  naught,  and  its  deliberations  engender  a  veritable  war.  But  he 
was  destined  to  new  disappointment.  The  love  of  peace  had  pre- 
vailed. Austria  had  renounced  all  her  inheritance  in  Bavaria,  save 
the  Innviertel,  and  had  declared  her  treaty  with  Charles  Theodore 
to  be  null  and  void. 

The  people  of  Vienna  were  overjoyed.  They,  like  their  empress, 
preferred  peace  to  increase  of  domain  ;  and  tliey  hastened  to  offer  her 
their  sincerest  congratulations.  All  the  European  ambassadors  were 
in  full  uniform,  and  Maria  Theresa  was  seated  on  a  throne,  in  all 
her  imperial  regalia. 

She  was  radiant  with  smiles,  and  happiness  flashed  from  her  still 
bright  eyes  ;  but  on  this  day  of  rejoicing  there  was  one  void  that 
pained  the  empress — it  was  the  absence  of  her  eldest  son.  Since  his 
return  to  Vienna,  three  months  before,  there  had  never  yet  been  a 
word  of   explanation   between  Joseph  and   his  mother.     He  had 


510  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

studiously  avoided  being  alone  with  her,  had  never  made  his  appear- 
ance in  council,  and  when  documents  had  been  presented  to  him  for 
signature,  he  had  no  sooner  perceived  the  sign-manual  of  the  em- 
press, than  he  had  added  his  own  without  examination  or  com- 
ment. 

It  was  this  cold  submission  which  tortured  the  heart  of  Maria 
Theresa.  She  would  have  preferred  recrimination  to  such  com- 
pliance as  this  ;  it  seemed  so  like  aversion,  so  like  despair  ! 

When  the  ceremonies  of  the  day  were  over,  the  empress  sent  a 
messenger  to  request  the  presence  of  her  son,  in  her  own  private 
apartments.  The  messenger  returned,  and  a  few  moments  after,  was 
followed  by  the  emperor. 

He  entered  the  room,  and  his  mother  came  eagerly  forward,  her 
two  hands  outstretched  to  greet  him.  "Thank  you,  my  dearest 
child, "  said  she,  affectionately,  "  for  coming  so  promptly  at  my  re- 
quest. My  heart  has  been  yearning  for  my  son,  and  I  have  longed 
all  day  to  see  my  co-regent  and  emperor  at  my  side. " 

She  still  held  out  her  hands,  but  Joseph,  affecting  not  to  see 
them,  bowed  with  grave  ceremony.  "  I  am  neither  emperor  nor  co- 
regent, "  replied  he  ;■  "I  am  but  the  son  and  subject  of  the  empress, 
and  as  such  I  have  already  congratulated  your  majesty  with  the 
rest. " 

"  Were  your  congratulations  for  my  birthday,  or  for  the  restora- 
tion of  peace,  my  son?" 

"  The  birthday  of  my  empress  is,  above  all  others,  a  day  of  gratu- 
lation  for  me, "  replied  Joseph,  evasively. 

"Then  peace  is  not  agreeable  to  you?" 

"  Pardon  me,  I  have  every  reason  to  be  satisfied.  Have  we  not 
•exchanged  compliments  with  all  the  powers  of  Europe,  and  have  not 
ihe  people  of  Vienna  sung  ninety-nine  thousand  Te  Deiims  in  honor 
of  the  peace  of  Teschen  ?"  * 

"I  see  that  you  do  not  approve  of  it,  Joseph,"  said  the  empress, 
who  was  anxious  to  come  to  an  understanding  on  the  subject. 

"I  was  under  the  impression  that  I  had  signed  all  your  majesty's 
acts  without  giving  any  trouble  whatever, "  was  the  cold  reply. 

"But  you  did  it  unwillingly,  I  fear,  and  thought  of  your  mother 
as  a  weak  and  timid  old  woman.     Is  it  not  so,  my  son?" 

"  When  I  signed  the  treaty  I  thought  of  my  ancestor,  Charles  V. 
After  a  disastrous  campaign  in  Africa,  he  was  obliged  to  return 
with  his  fleet  to  Spain.  He  sailed,  it  is  true,  but  he  was  the  last 
man  to  go  on  board.  So  with  me — I  signed  the  articles  of  peace, 
but  was  the  last  one  who  signed. "  f 

"  Have  you  nothing  more  to  say  on  the  subject?  Are  you  not  glad 
that  there  is  to  be  no  bloodshed?" 

"A  son  and  subject  has  no  right  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  ac- 
tions of  his  mother  and  empress." 

"  But  you  are  more  than  a  subject,  you  are  an  emperor. " 

"  No,  your  majesty  ;  I  am  like  the  Venetian  generals.  In  war, 
they  commanded  the  armies,  and  received  their  salaries  from  the 
republic.  When  their  campaigns  wei"e  over,  their  pensions  were 
paid,  and  they  sank  back  into  obscurity." 

"Oh,  my  son,  these  are  hard  and  bitter  words,"  exclaimed  the 
empress,  pressing  her  hands  upon  her  heart.     "  I  see  plainly  that  you 

♦Joseph's  own  words, 
tibid. 


THE   EMPEROR  AND  HIS  MOTHER.  511 

are  displeased  because  I  have  exchanged  a  doubtful  war  for  an  honor- 
able peace." 

"I  am  not  so  presuming  as  to  be  displeased  with  your  majesty's 
acts,  and  if  you  have  obtained  an  honorable  peace,  I  wish  you  joy 
of  it. " 

Maria  Theresa  sighed  heavily.     "  I  perceive, "  said  she,  disconso 
lately,  "  that  you  are  resolved  not  to  let  me  see  into  your  heart. " 

"Oh,  your  majesty, "  cried  Joseph,  with  a  bitter  smile,  "I  have 
no  heart.  Where  my  heart  once  was,  there  stands  an  open  grave  ; 
and,  one  by  one,  my  hopes  have  all  been  buried  there. " 

"I  think  it  strange  that  the  future  Emperor  of  Austria  should 
speak  of  buried  hopes." 

"I  said  nothing  of  an  emperor,  your  majesty,  I  spoke  of  poor 
Joseph  of  Hapsburg  and  of  his  personal  wishes.  As  regards  the 
future  emperor,  he  of  course  has  many  hopes  for  Austria.  First 
among  them  is  the  wish  that  the  epoch  of  his  reign  may  be  very  far 
off  !  Second,  is  his  desire  to  serve  his  country.  As  we  are  now  to 
enjoy  the  blessings  of  peace,  and  I  am  on  the  list  of  your  majesty's 
pensioned  officers,  I  should  like,  if  it  do  not  conflict  with  your 
views,  to  receive  an  appointment  as  minister  to  some  foreign  power. " 

"  Oh, "  exclaimed  Maria  Theresa,  sorrowfully,  "  would  you  leave 
me  so  soon  again?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  I  desire  a  long  leave  of  absence. " 

"Whither  would  you  then  journey,  my  dear  child?" 

"I  desire  to  visit  the  Empress  Catharine." 

"The  Empress  Catharine!"  echoed  Maria  Theresa,  starting  and 
coloring  violently.     "You  would  visit  that  woman?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty.  I  would  visit  that  woman  as  Baron  Thugut 
did  the  King  of  Prussia ;  with  this  exception,  that  I  do  not  go 
secretly — I  first  consult  your  majesty. " 

Maria  Theresa  would  not  notice  this  thrust  of  her  son.  She  con- 
tented herself  with  replying  :  "  What  object  can  you  have  in  going 
on  a  mission  to  Russia?" 

"  I  propose  to  win  the  friendship  of  the  empress. " 

"The  friendship  of  that  degraded  woman  !     I  do  not  covet  it." 

"  And  yet  your  majesty  was  the  first  to  request  her  mediation  in 
our  affairs  with  Germany.  As  you  have  raised  the  foul  fiend,  and 
lie  has  come  at  your  call,  you  must  abide  the  consequences,  and 
accept  him  as  a  friend.  Since  Russia  is  to  have  a  voice  in  German 
politics,  it  is  better  that  she  speak  for  us,  than  sustain  our  enemy, 
Prussia. " 

"  But  she  has  long  been  the  ally  of  Prussia, "  objected  the  empress. 

"So  much  the  more  incumbent  is  it  upon  us  to  disturb  the 
alliance.  To  do  this,  is  the  purpose  of  my  journey  to  Russia.  I 
repeat  my  request  for  your  majesty's  consent." 

For  some  moments  Maria  Theresa  contemplated  her  son  with 
inexpressible  tenderness.  At  length  she  said  with  a  sigh,  "You 
really  desire,  then,  to  go  to  Russia?" 

"Such  is  my  wish,  your  majesty." 

"Well,  my  child,  since  you  desire  it,  I  consent;  but  I  do  it  un- 
willingly. I  wish  to  prove  to  my  son  how  gladlj'  I  gratify  him, 
when  I  can  do  so  without  conflicting  with  my  duties  as  a  sovereign. " 

The  emperor  bowed,  but  spoke  not  a  word.  Maria  Theresa 
sighed  again,  and  an  expression  of  deep  pain  crossed  her  face. 

"When  do  you  expect  to  start?"  said  she,  sadly. 


512  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  As  soon  as  possible  ;  for  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  the  time  is  now 
propitious  for  stepping  in  between  Prussia  and  her  beloved  ally. " 

"  Then  I  am  to  lose  my  dear  son  at  oncef  asked  the  mother,  with 
tearful  eyes.  "I  fear  he  leaves  me  without  a  pang  ;  and  will  seldom 
bestow  a  thought  upon  the  mother  whose  anxious  heart  follows  his 
every  movement  with  love. " 

"  I  shall  bestow  my  thoughts  upon  my  sovereign,  and  remember 
that  I  am  pledged  to  obtain  for  her  a  powerful  ally.  But  I  have 
much  to  do  before  I  start.  Above  all  things  I  must  see  Prince 
Kaunitz.     I  beg  therefore  of  your  majesty  the  permission  to  retire. " 

"  As  the  emperor  pleases, "  said  Maria  Theresa,  with  quivering  lip. 

Joseph  bowed,  and  without  a  word  or  look  at  his  mother's 
sorrowing  countenance,  turned  toward  the  door.  Up  to  this  moment 
the  empress  had  controlled  her  distress,  but  she  could  master  her 
grief  no  longer.  She  looked  at  the  emperor  with  dimmed  eyes  and 
throbbing  heart ;  and  in  the  extremity  of  her  maternal  anguish,  she 
cried  out, 

"  Oh,  my  son,  my  precious  boy  !" 

The  emperor,  who  was  opening  the  door,  turned  around .  He  saw 
his  mother,  her  tears  falling  like  rain,  standing  close  by  with  out- 
stretched arms.  But  he  did  not  respond  to  the  appeal.  With 
another  ceremonious  bow,  he  said,  "I  take  leave  of  your  majesty, " 
and  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

Maria  Theresa  uttered  a  loud  cry  and  sank  to  the  floor.  "  Oh, " 
sobbed  she,  "  I  am  a  poor,  desolate  mother.  My  child  loves  me  no 
longer !" 


CHAPTER    CXXXIII. 

PRINCE  POTEMKIN. 

Prince  Potemkin  was  just  out  of  bed.  In  front  of  him,  two 
pages,  richly  dressed,  bowed  down  to  the  floor  as  they  opened  the 
door  for  him  to  pass  into  his  cabinet.  Behind  Jiim,  two  more  pages 
held  up  the  train  of  his  velvet  dressing-gown,  which,  all  bedecked 
with  jewels,  came  trailing  behind  his  tall,  graceful  figure.  Behind 
the  pages  were  four  valets  with  breakfast  and  Turkish  pipes. 

And  in  this  wise  Prince  Potemkin  entered  his  cabinet.  He 
threw  himself  upon  an  ottoman  covered  with  India  cashmere  sliawls, 
and  received  from  a  kneeling  page  a  cup  of  chocolate,  which  was 
handed  to  his  highness  upon  a  gold  waiter  set  with  pearls.  Then, 
as  if  the  cup  had  been  too  troublesome  to  hold,  he  replaced  it  on  the 
waiter,  and  ordered  the  page  to  pour  the  chocolate  down. 

The  page,  apparently,  was  accustomed  to  the  order,  for  he  rose 
briskly  from  his  knees,  and  approaching  the  cup  to  Potemkin 's  lips, 
allowed  the  chocolate  to  trickle  slowly  down  his  princely  throat. 
Meanwhile  the  three  pages,  four  valets,  and  six  officers,  who  had 
been  awaiting  him  in  his  cabinet,  stood  around  in  stiff,  military 
attitudes,  each  one  uncomfortably^  conscious  that  he  was  momen- 
tarily exposed  to  the  possible  displeasure  of  the  mighty  favorite  of 
the  mighty  Czarina. 

Potemkin,  meanwhile,  vouchsafed  not  a  look  at  any  one  of  them. 
After  he  had  sipjied  his  chocolate,  and  the  page  had  dried  his  mouth 
with  an  embroidered  napkin,  he  opened  his  lijis.     The  valet  whose 


PRINCE  POTEMKIN.  513 

duty  it  was  to  present  it,  stepped  forward  with  the  Turkish  pipe,  and 
depositing  its  magnificent  golden  bowl  upon  the  Persian  carpet  by 
the  ottoman,  placed  the  amber  mouth-piece  between  the  lips  of  his 
master. 

Again  a  dead  silence  ;  and  again  those  stiff  forms  stood  reveren- 
tially around,  while  Potemkin,  with  an  air  of  ennui  and  satiety, 
watched  the  blue  wreaths  that  rose  from  his  pipe  to  the  ceiling. 

"What  o'clock  is  itV"  asked  he  moodily. 

"  Mid-day,  your  highness, "  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"How  many  people  in  the  anteroom?" 

"  A  nudtitude  of  nobles,  generals,  and  lesser  petitioners,  all  await- 
ing your  highness's  appearance." 

"How  long  have  they  been  there?" 

"Three  hours,. your  highness." 

His  highness  went  on  smoking,  impelled  probably  by  the  reflec- 
tion that  three  hours  was  too  short  a  time  for  the  court  of  Russia  to 
wait  for  the  ineffable  blessing  of  his  presence. 

After  a  while  he  became  weary  of  the  pipe,  and  raised  his  head. 
Three  valets  rushed  forward,  each  witli  an  embroidered  suit,  to 
inquire  whether  his  highness  would  wear  the  uniform  of  a  field- 
marshal,  that  of  a  lord-chamberlain,  or  the  magnificent  costume  of 
a  Russian  prince.  Potemkin  waved  them  off,  and  rose  from  the 
ottoman.  His  long  brown  hair,  which  flowed  like  the  mane  of  a 
lion  around  his  handsome  face,  bore  here  and  there  the  traces  of  the 
down  pillow  upon  which  he  had  slept ;  his  open  dressing-gown  ex- 
posed to  view  his  slovenly  undergarments  ;  and  his  pearl-embroid- 
ered slippers  were  worn  over  a  pair  of  soiled  stockings  which, 
hanging  loosely  arovmd  his  legs,  revealed  his  powerful  and  well- 
shaped  calves. 

In  this  neglige,  Potemkin  approached  the  door  of  his  anteroom. 
As  soon  as  he  had  been  announced,  a  hundred  weary  faces  grew 
bright  with  expectation;  and  princes,  dukes,  and  nobles  bowed 
before  tlie  haughty  man  who  was  even  mightier  than  the  empress ; 
for  he  bent  before  no  mortal,  while  she  was  the  slave  of  one  will — of 
Potemkin's. 

Silent  and  disdainful,  Potemkin  walked  through  the  lines  of 
obsequious  courtiers  that  fell  back  as  he  passed,  here  and  there  con- 
descending to  greet  sonie  nobleman  of  wealth  or  influence.  As  for 
the  others  who  raised  their  imploring  eyes  to  his,  he  affected  not  to 
know  of  their  insignificant  presence,  and  returned  to  his  cabinet 
without  having  vouchsafed  a  word  to  anybody. 

"  Is  the  jeweller  there?"  asked  he  of  the  officer  at  the  door,  and  as 
the  latter  bowed  his  head,  Potemkin  added,  "Admit  him,  and  after 
him  the  minister  of  police." 

With  these  words  he  passed  into  his  cabinet,  and  his  valets  began 
to  dress  him.  While  his  long  mane  was  being  combed  into  order, 
Potemkin  amused  himself  playing  like  a  juggler  with  three  little 
golden  balls,  while  the  pale  and  trembling  jeweller  stood  wondering 
what  new  robbery  awaited  him  now. 

"Ah,  Artankopf,  you  are  there?"  said  the  prince,  when  his  toilet 
liad  been  completed.     "I  have  an  order  for  you." 

The  jeweller  made  a  salam,  and  muttered  some  unintelligible 
words  of  which  Potemkin  took  no  notice. 

"I  saw  a  magnificent  service  of  gold  yesterday  in  your  show- 


514  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"It  is  an  order,  your  highness,"  said  Artaukopf,  quickly. 

"Then  I  cannot  buy  it?" 

"  Impossible,  your  highness. " 

"Then  I  order  one  exactly  like  it,  above  all  in  weight.  The 
statuettes  which  ornament  that  sei-vice  are  exquisitely  moulded. 
How  much  gold  is  there  in  it?" 

"  Sixty  thousand  rubles,  your  highness. " 

Potemkin's  eyes  sparkled.  "  A  considerable  sum, "  said  he,  strok- 
ing his  mane.  "  I  order  two  services  of  the  same  value.  Do  you 
hear?    They  mvist  be  ready  on  this  day  week. " 

"And  the  payment?"  Artankopf  ventured  to  inquire. 

"  I  shall  pay  you  in  advance, "  replied  Potemkin,  with  a  laugh. 
"  I  appoint  you  first  court- jeweller  to  the  empress. " 

The  jeweller  did  not  appear  to  appreciate  the  mode  of  payment ; 
he  seemed  terrified. 

"Oh,  your  highness,"  said  he,  trembling,  "I  implore  you  not  to 
make  such  fearful  jests.  I  am  the  father  of  a  large  family,  and  if 
you  exact  of  me  to  furnish  you  a  service  worth  a  fortune,  the  outlay 
for  the  gold  alone  will  ruin  me." 

"You  will  be  irretrievably  ruined  if  you  do  not  furnish  it," 
laughed  Potemkin,  while  he  went  on  throwing  his  balls  and  catch- 
ing them.  "  If  those  two  services  are  not  here  on  the  day,  you  take 
a  journey  to  Siberia,  friend  Artankopf. " 

"I  will  be  punctual,  your  highness."  sighed  the  jeweller.  "But 
the  payment — I  must  buy  the  gold. " 

"  The  payment !  What,  the  devil — you  are  not  paid  by  the  ap- 
pointment I  give  you  !  Go  ;  and  if  you  venture  to  murmur,  think 
of  Siberia,  and  that  will  cure  your  grief. " 

With  a  wave  of  his  hand,  Potemkin  dismissed  the  unhappy 
jeweller,  who  left  that  i^rincely  den  of  extortion  a  broken-hearted, 
ruined  man. 

The  robber,  meanwhile,  was  counting  his  gains  and  donning  his 
field -marshal's  uniform.  "One  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
rubles'  worth  of  gold!"  said  he  to  himself.  "I'll  have  the  things 
melted  into  coin — it  is  more  portable  than  plate. " 

The  door  opened,  and  Narischkin,  the  minister  of  police,  entered. 

"Out,  the  whole  gang  of  you!"  cried  Potemkin;  and  there  was 
a  simultaneous  exodus  of  officers,  pages,  and  valets.  When  the 
heavy,  gold-bordered  silken por^ie/-e  had  fallen,  the  tyrant  spoke. 

"  Now  let  us  hear  your  report, "  said  he,  seating  himself  before  his 
toilet-mirror,  where  first  he  cleaned  his  dazzling  white  teeth,  and 
then  pared  his  nails. 

The  minister  of  police,  in  an  attitude  of  profound  respect,  began 
to  go  over  the  occurrences  of  the  past  two  days  in  St.  Petersburg. 

Potemkin  listened  with  an  occasional  yawn,  and  finally  inter- 
rupted him.  "You  are  an  old  fool.  What  do  I  care  for  your  bur- 
glars and  bankrupts  !  You  have  not  so  much  as  a  murder  to  relate  to 
me.  Can  you  not  guess  that  there  are  other  things  of  which  I  wish 
to  hear?" 

"  Doubtless  your  highness  wishes  me  to  report  the  doings  of  the 
Emperor  of  Austria. " 

"You  are  not  quite  such  a  dunce,  then,  as  you  seem  to  be.  Well, 
what  has  the  emperor  been  about  these  two  days  past?" 

"He  leads  tlie  same  life  as  he  did  in  Moscow,"  said  Narischkin. 
"He  goes  about  as  Count  Falkeustein." 


PRINCE  POTEMKIN.  515 

"He  comes  as  his  own  ambassador, "  cried  Potemkin,  lavighing, 
"  and  he  could  not  have  chosen  a  worse  one  than  Count  Falkenstein.* 
What  a  wretched  country  Austria  must  be  when  its  emperor  travels 
about  like  an  ordinary  Russian  gentleman  !" 

"He  arrived  in  St.  Petersburg  with  one  servant  carrying  his 
portmanteau,  and  engaged  two  rooms  at  a  hotel. " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  have  heard  of  his  passion  for  living  at  hotels.  It  all 
proceeds  from  avarice.  Were  he  the  guest  of  the  empress,  he  would 
be  obliged  to  make  some  imperial  presents  here  and  there.  When 
our  great  czarina  invited  him  to  Sarskoe-Selo,  he  accepted,  on  con- 
dition that  he  should  be  allowed  to  lodge  at  an  inn.  Now  there 
happens  to  be  no  inn  at  Sarskoe-Selo  ;  so  the  imperial  gardener  has 
hung  out  a  sign,  and  the  liitle  Count  of  Falkenstein  is  to  take  up  his 
lodging  with  him.  He  never  will  be  the  wiser,  and  will  fancy 
himself  at  an  inn.  So  that  in  trifles,  as  in  matters  of  state,  the 
czarina  shall  befool  Austria,  and  lead  him  by  the  nose.  Tell  me 
something  more  of  his  eccentricities.  Have  you  dazzled  him  with 
a  sight  of  our  wealth  ?" 

"He  is  not  to  be  dazzled,  your  highness.  Even  the  homage  he 
has  received  seems  to  give  him  no  pleasure." 

"Ah  !     Has  he,  then,  been  the  object  of  so  much  consideration?" 

"  Her  majesty  ordered  it,  and  she  has  even  devised  some  delicate 
compliments  wherewith  to  surprise  him." 

"  Ah  ! — she  seems  to  be  inclined  toward  this  little  emperor, " 
muttered  Potemkin.  "  She  indulges  in  fanciful  projects  of  aggran- 
dizement with  him,  and  forgets—.  Well— what  were  the  surprises 
which  the  czarina  prepared  for  his  countship?" 

"  Day  before  yesterday,  he  visited  the  Academy  of  Sciences.  An 
atlas  was  presented  to  him  ;  and  when  he  opened  it,  he  found  a  map 
of  his  own  journey  from  Vienna  to  St.  Petersburg,  with  engravings 
illustrating  the  various  details  of  the  journey. "  f 

"Pretty  good,"  sneered  Potemkin,  "but  unfortunately  not  origi- 
nal, for  the  little  count  received  a  similar  compliment  in  Paris. 
Go  on. " 

"  Then  the  emperor  visited  the  Academy  of  Arts,  and  there  he 
found  a  portfolio  of  engravings,  among  which  was  an  excellent 
portrait  of  himself  with  this  inscription  :  '  Multorum  providus  urbes 
et  mores  hominum  inspexit. '  " 

"Who  wrote  the  inscription?"  asked  Potemkin,  hastily. 

"Her  majesty's  self, "  replied  Narischkin,  with  a  deep  inclination 
at  the  name.  "  But  the  emperor  greets  every  thing  with  a  qviiet 
smile.  When  he  visited  the  mint  and  saw  the  enormous  piles  of 
bullion  there,  he  merely  said  :  'Have  you  always  as  much  silver  in 
the  mint  as  there  is  to-day?'  " 

Potemkin  laughed  aloud.  "  That  was  a  sly  question,  and  shows 
that  little  Falkenstein  has  been  peeping  behind  the  scenes  and  has 
discovered  that  we  were  prepared  for  his  coming. " 

"Yes,  your  highness.  It  would  appear  that  Count  Falkenstein 
does  not  quite  believe  in  our  enormous  wealth  ;  for  after  seeing  the 
mint,  he  put  on  that  mocking  smile  of  his,  and  asked  whether  the 
Imperial  Bank  was  in  a  condition  to  redeem  its  issue." 

"What  was  the  answer?" 

"'Yes,'  of  course,  your  highness." 

*  Potemkiu's  own  words. 

+ Theodore  Mundt,  "Conflicts  for  the  Black  Sea,"  p.  141. 


516  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"It  was  a  masterpiece  of  effrontery  then,  ami  I  shall  take  the 
opportunity  of  testing  its  truth.  Go  to  the  bank,  Narischkin,  and 
say  that  I  need  one  hvxndred  thousand  rubles  for  an  entertainment  I 
propo.se  to  give  to  the  czarina.  I  must  have  it  in  coin.  Quick — 
begone. " 

"  I  fly,  your  highness,  but  first  be  so  kind  as  to  give  me  the  im- 
perial order.  You  well  know  that  no  coin  can  leave  the  bank  with- 
out the  signature  of  the  empress. " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  whether  they  will  dare  to  return  my  signa- 
ture," cried  Potemkin,  fiercely. 

He  wrote  the  order,  and  handing  it  to  Narischkin,  said:  "Take 
this  to  the  bank  directors  ;  and  if  they  ask  for  the  signature  of  the 
empress,  tell  them  she  will  send  it  to-morrow,  but  I  must  have  the 
money  to-day." 

Narischkin  bowed  lower  than  he  had  ever  been  seen  to  do  toward 
the  son  of  the  empress  himself,  and  left  the  room  on  reverential 
tiptoes. 


CHAPTER    CXXXIV. 

THE      PRUSSIAN      AMBASSADOR. 

When  Potemkin  felt  himself  quite  alone,  he  leaned  back  in  his 
arm-chair  with  an  ugly  frown. 

"Something  is  going  on  to  my  disadvantage  here,"  muttered  he. 
"I  saw  it  yesterday  in  Panin's  exulting  countenance.  How  I  hate 
that  man  !  Almost  as  much  as  I  do  Orloff  !  It  is  a  blessing  for  me 
that  both  are  not  here  to  plot  together.  Singly,  I  do  not  fear  them  ; 
Ijut  together — Orloff  is  the  loaded  cannon,  and  Panin  the  lighted 
match,  and  if  I  am  not  wary—" 

Here,  as  though  he  had  felt  the  shock  of  the  ball,  Potemkin 
sprang  from  his  seat,  and  swung  his  hands  above  his  head.  But 
l^resently  he  sank  back  into  his  chair,  and  continued  his  medita- 
tions. "I  must  spike  Orloff  before  he  destroys  me.  But  to  spike  a 
cannon,  one  must  be  able  to  reach  it ;  and  Orloff  is  far  away  on  his 
estates,  like  a  spider  iu  her  wicked  web.  Oh,  if  I  could  but  reach 
it,  I  would  soon  tear  it  to  pieces  !  But  where  are  its  threads?  How 
shall  I  find  them? — Panin,  too,  is  getting  intimate  with  the  grand 
duke,  and  so,  is  currying  favor  with  the  empress.  Yesterday  when 
I  entered  the  parlor  without  saluting  him,  Paul  called  after  me  with 
an  oath,  and  turned  to  his  mother  with  a  complaint  of  my  in- 
solence. And  the  empress  did  not  utter  one  word  of  reproof, 
although  she  saw  me  near  enough  to  hear.  That  is  significant — it 
means  that  Catharine  fears  me  no  longer.  But,  by  the  eternal  God  ! 
she  shall  learn  that  she  has  a  master,  and  that  her  master  is  Potem- 
kin I 

"How  dare  she  take  Panin  into  her  confidence?  He  it  is  who 
inclines  her  to  the  King  of  Prussia.  This  fancy  for  Prussia  is  the 
only  thing  she  has  in  common  with  the  grand  duke.  Love  of  Fred- 
erick is  the  bridge  which  Panin  has  built  to  unite  them.  I  must  try 
to  lead  her  into  another  road  of  policy,  and  so  remove  Orloff  and 
Panin.  Orloff  hates  Austria,  and  if— pshaw  !  Why  is  that  Joseph 
so  niggardly  that  one  cannot  feel  the  slightest  interest  in  him?  If 
after  refusing  all  other  invitations  he  had  paid  me  the  compliment 


THE  PRUSSIAN  AMBASSADOR.  517 

of  accepting  mine — but,  no  ! — this  haughty  Austrian  treats  me  with 
as  little  consideration  as  he  does  the  rest  of  the  world  ;  and  forces 
me,  in  spite  of  myself,  to  the  side  of  Frederick.  But  there  I  find 
Orloff  and  Panin,  and  we  cannot  v/ork  together.  They  must  be  dis- 
graced, and  Catharine  made  to  follow  me.  How  shall  I  commence? 
What  shall  I  do?" 

A  knock  at  the  door  put  an  end  to  his  communings. 

"  His  excellency  the  Count  von  Gortz,  ambassador  of  his  majesty 
the  King  of  Prussia, "  said  the  officer,  who  announced  the  visitors  of 
Potemkin. 

"  Show  his  excellency  into  the  little  parlor, "  said  the  latter,  care- 
lessly, "and  tell  him  that  I  will  receive  him  there." 

"Ah! — Count  von  Gortz, "  thought  Potemkin.  "That  signifies 
that  my  enemies  have  not  yet  triumphed,  and  that  the  King  of 
Prussia  thinks  me  powerful  enough  to  conciliate.  Well — I  must 
have  time  for  reflection." 

And  without  the  slightest  regard  to  the  station  of  his  visitor, 
Potemkin  sat  for  half  an  hour,  revolving  in  his  mind  what  sort  of 
reception  he  should  give  to  Frederick's  overtures.  In  spite  of  the 
slight,  Count  von  Gortz  came  forward  with  a  gracious  smile,  as 
Potemkin,  slightly  nodding,  passed  on  to  a  seat,  and  waved  his  hand 
for  the  count  to  take  another. 

"  I  am  commissioned  by  my  sovereign,  the  King  of  Prussia,  to 
request  an  interview  of  your  highness,"  began  Von  Gortz. 

Potemkin  nodded,  but  said  nothing. 

"His  majesty  has  intrusted  me  with  a  most  flattering  commis- 
sion," continued  the  ambassador. 

"Let  us  hear  it,"  replied  Potemkin,  with  indifference. 

Count  von  Gortz  bowed,  rose,  and  drew  from  his  bosom  a  rich 
velvet  etui  which  he  handed  to  the  prince. 

"  His  majesty,  my  august  sovereign,  in  acknowledgment  of  your 
highness's  great  and  glorious  deeds,  wishes  to  convey  to  j^ou  a  token 
of  his  admiraticm  and  friendshii), "  said  Count  von  Gortz,  solemnly. 
"  He  has  bestowed  upon  your  highness  the  order  of  the  Black  Eagle, 
and  I  have  the  honor  to  present  it  to  you  with  the  insignia. " 

Potemkin  took  the  etui  and  without  opening  it  laid  it  on  the 
table  beside  him.  "Ah,"  said  he,  with  a  shrug,  "his  majesty  sends 
me  the  Black  Eagle.  I  am  much  obliged  to  him,  but  really  I  have 
so  many  orders  that  I  have  nowhere  left  to  wear  them,  and  how  to 
dispose  of  this  new  one  I  scarcely  know.  See  for  yourself,"  contin- 
ued he  smiling,  and  pointing  to  his  breast,  which  indeed  was 
covered  with  crosses,  "do  I  not  look  like  a  vender  of  orders,  carry- 
ing about  his  samples?"  * 

"If  I  may  be  allowed  to  use  your  excellency's  woi-ds,  you  carry 
about  samples,  not  only  of  your  treasures,  but  of  your  heroism  and 
statesmanship.  It  would  be  a  pity  if  among  them,  you  should  not 
wear  a  decoration  of  my  august  sovereign." 

"  Very  well,  then,  to  oblige  the  King  of  Prussia,  I  will  wear  the 
cross,  and  I  beg  you  return  him  my  thanks.  Have  you  any  thing 
more  to  say,  count?" 

Count  von  Gortz  cast  a  searching  glance  around  the  apartment, 
especially  upon  the  heavy  velvet  window-curtains. 

"  Get  up  and  look  for  yourself,  if  you  suspect  the  presence  of  any* 
body, "  said  the  prince. 

*  All  Potemkin's  own  words.    Dohm's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  413. 


518  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS   COURT. 

"Your  highness's  word  is  sufficient.  Allow  me  then  to  speak 
openly  and  confidentially. " 

"  In  the  name  of  your  sovereign  ?" 

"Yes,  your  highness.  You  know  that  the  treaty,  which  for 
eight  years  has  allied  Russia  and  Prussia  is  about  to  expire. " 

"Is  it?"  said  Potemkin,  carelessly.  "I  was  not  aware  of  it,  for 
I  take  no  interest  in  minor  politics. " 

"  Your  highness  has  in  view  the  great  whole  only  of  the  field  of 
diplomacy, "  replied  the  complaisant  minister.  "  But  for  Prussia 
this  alliance  is  a  most  important  one,  and  my  sovereign  has  nothing 
more  at  heart  than  the  renewal  of  his  alliance  with  Russia.  He 
knows  how  much  his  interests  here  are  threatend  by  the  visit  of  the 
Emperor  Joseph  ;  and  he  desired  me  to  ask  of  your  highness  whether 
it  would  be  advisable  for  him  to  send  Prince  Henry  to  counteract 
it." 

Potemkin  replied  to  this  question  by  a  loud  laugh.  "  What  a  set 
of  timid  people  you  are  !"  said  he,  "What  formalities  about  noth- 
ing !  When  the  emperor  was  about  to  visit  us,  the  czarina  must 
know  whether  it  was  agreeable  to  the  King  of  Prussia  ;  now  the  king 
wishes  to  know  from  me  whether  the  visit  of  Prince  Henry  is 
expedient." 

"Yes.  His  majesty  wishes  advice  from  your  highness  alone, 
although  there  are  others  who  would  gladly  be  consulted  by  him." 

"Others?  you  mean  Panin — have  you,  then,  asked  counsel  of  no 
one,  count?" 

"  Of  no  one.  My  sovereign  wishes  to  consult  with  no  one  except- 
ing your  liighness." 

For  the  first  time  Potemkin  betrayed  his  satisfaction  by  a  trium- 
phant smile.  "  If  your  king  comes  to  me  exclusively — mark  me 
well,  exclusively — for  advice,  I  am  willing  to  serve  him. " 

"  Your  highness  may  see  that  my  sovereign  addresses  himself  to 
you  alone, "  replied  the  minister,  handing  him  a  letter  in  Frederick's 
own  handwriting. 

Potemkin,  without  any  api^earance  of  surprise,  took  it  and  broke 
the  seal.  The  king  began  by  saying  that  he  had  every  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  the  object  of  Joseph's  visit  to  Russia  was  to  alienate  Rus- 
sia from  her  old  ally.  Then  he  went  into  ecstasies  over  the  genius 
and  statesmanship  of  Potemkin,  and  besought  him  to  uphold  the 
intei'ests  of  Prussia.  Furthermore  he  promised  his  interest  and  in- 
fluence to  the  prince,  not  only  for  the  present,  but  for  the  futiu-e, 
when  it  was  probable  that  he  (Frederick)  could  serve  Potemkin 
substantially.* 

A  long  pause  ensued  after  the  reading  of  this  letter.  Potemkin 
threw  himself  back,  and  in  an  attitude  of  thoughtfulness  raised  his 
eyes  to  the  rich  pictured  ceiling  above  him. 

"  I  do  not  entirely  understand  the  king, "  said  he,  after  some 
time.  "  What  does  he  mean  by  saying  that  he  will  try  to  make  that 
possible  which  seems  impossible?" 

"  His  majesty  has  learned  that  your  highness  is  desirous  of  being 
created  Duke  of  Courland.  He  will  use  all  his  interest  with  Stanis- 
laus to  this  effect,  and  indemnify  the  Duke  deBiron,  who  would  lose 
Courland,  by  augmenting  his  possessions  in  Silesia.  The  king  also 
means  that  he  is  readj^  to  find  a  bride  for  the  future  Duke  of  Cour- 
land among  the  princesses  of  Germany." 

*  This  letter  is  historical,  and  is  to  be  found  in  Dohm's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  412. 


( 


THE  PRUSSIAN  AMBASSADOR.  519 

"Really,"  said  Potemkin,  laughing,  "the  mysterious  phrase  is 
significant.  But  the  king  lays  too  much  sti-ess  upon  that  little  duchy 
of  Courland  ;  if  I  wanted  it,  I  could  make  it  mine  without  troubling 
his  majesty  in  the  least.  As  to  the  bride,  I  doubt  whether  it  would 
be  agreeable  to  the  czarina  for  me  to  marry,  and  this  matter  I  leave 
to  herself.  What  does  the  king  mean  by  a  proffer  of  friendship  for- 
the  future?" 

Count  Gortz  leaned  forward  and  spoke  scarcely  above  his  breath. 
"  His  majesty  means  to  promise  his  influence  with  the  grand  duke, 
so  that  in  the  event  of  his  mother's  death,  your  highness  would  be 
secure  of  your  person  and  property. "  * 

This  time  the  prince  was  unable  to  suppress  his  real  feelings  ;  he 
started,  and  a  deep  flush  overspread  his  face. 

"How?"  said  he,  in  a  whisper,  "has  the  king  the  power  to  read 
my  thoughts — " 

He  did  not  conclude  his  sentence,  but  sprang  from  his  seat  and 
paced  the  room  in  hurried  excitement.  Count  vou  Gortz  also  had 
risen  and  contemplated  him  in  anxious  silence. 

"Did  the  courier  from  Berlin  bring  any  letters  to  the  czarina?" 
asked  Potemkin,  as  he  ceased  walking  and  stood  before  Von  Gortz. 

"Yes,  your  highness,  and  I  shall  deliver  them,  as  soon  as  I  re- 
ceive the  assurance  of  your  influence  with  the  empress. " 

"Very  well,  you  have  it.  I  will  go  to  her  at  once.  Meanwhile 
go  to  Count  Panin,  to  whose  department  this  affair  belongs,  and 
induce  him  to  lay  before  the  czarina  a  proposition  for  the  renewal 
of  the  Prussian  alliance.  Then  ask  an  audience  of  the  empress  and 
present  your  credentials.  You  see  that  I  am  in  earnest,  for  I  work 
in  conjunction  with  my  enemy  ;  but  before  I  make  one  step,  you 
must  write  out  the  king's  last  promise  to  me,  adding  that  you  are 
empowered  to  do  so  by  his  majesty  of  Prussia  and  having  signed  the 
promise,  you  must  deliver  me  the  paper. " 

"  May  I  inquire  the  object  of  these  papers?" 

Potemkin  approached  the  count,  and  whispered  in  his  ear.  "It 
is  a  matter  of  life  and  death.  If  the  grand  duke  should  come  to  the 
throne,  from  the  unbounded  regard  w^hich  he  has  for  the  King  of 
Prussia,  I  know  that  this  paper  will  protect  me  from  his  vengeance. " 

"  Your  highness  shall  have  it. " 

"At  once?  For  you  understand  that  I  must  have  some  guaranty 
before  I  act.     Your  king's  words  are  not  explicit." 

"  I  shall  draw  up  the  paper,  and  send  it  to  your  highness  before  I 
ask  an  audience  of  the  czarina." 

"  Then  the  King  of  Prussia  may  reckon  upon  me,  and  I  sliall  serve 
him  to-day,  as  I  hope  that  in  future  he  will  serve  me.  Go  now, 
and  return  with  the  paper  as  soon  as  it  is  ready." 

"  I  believe  that  Prussia  means  fairly, "  said  Potemkin,  when  he 
found  himself  once  more  alone.  "  But  that  only  means  that  Prussia 
needs  me,  and  that,"  cried  he,  exultiugly,  "means  that  I  am 
mightier  than  Panin,  mightier  than  the  grand  duke — but  am  I 
mightier  than  Orloff?— Oh,  this  Orloff  is  the  spectre  that  forever 
threatens  my  repose  !  He  or  I  must  fall,  for  Russia  is  too  small  to 
hold  us  both.     But  which  one?     Not  I— by  the  Eternal— not  I !" 

Just  then  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Potemkin,  who  was 
standing  with  his  fist  clinched  and  his  teeth  set,  fell  back  into  his 
seat. 

*Raumer's  Contributions,  etc.,  vol.  v.,  p.  485. 

34 


520  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  How  dare  you  disturb  me?"  cried  he,  savagely. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  highness,  but  this  is  your  day  for  receiring 
the  foreign  ambassadors,  and  his  excellency  of  Austria  craves  an 
audience?" 

"Cobenzl?    Is  he  alone?" 

"  Yes,  your  highness. " 

"  In  ten  minutes,  admit  him  here. " 


CHAPTER    CXXXV. 

THE     AUSTRIAN     AMBASSADOR. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  door  was  opened,  and  Count  Cobenzl,  on 
the  point  of  his  toes,  tipped  into  the  room.  Potemkin,  on  the  sofa, 
was  looking  the  picture  of  indifference  ;  his  eyes  half -shut  and  his  tall 
form  stretclied  out  at  full  length,  he  seemed  just  to  have  awakened 
from  sleep.  But  during  those  ten  minutes  he  had  been  doing  any 
thing  but  sleejiing.  He  had  been  decorating  himself  with  tlie  cross 
of  the  Black  Eagle,  and  had  allowed  tlie  broad  ribbon  to  which  it 
was  attached  to  trail  upon  the  carpet. 

"It  is  well,  Count  Cobenzl,"  said  Potemkin,  greeting  the  minis- 
ter, "that  you  did  not  come  five  minutes  later,  for  you  would  not 
have  met  me  at  all. " 

"  Pardon  me,  I  should  then  have  had  but  five  minutes  to  wait  in 
your  anteroom, "  replied  Cobenzl.  "  I  detest  anterooms,  and  wish 
that  I  had  come  ten  minutes  later,  that  I  might  have  been  introduced 
to  your  presence  at  once. " 

"  You  would  not  have  seen  me  at  all,  I  tell  you  ;  for  I  am  about 
to  have  an  audience  of  the  empress." 

"Ah,  indeed!"  cried  Cobenzl.  "That  accounts  for  all  these 
brilliant  decorations,  then." 

"  You  certainly  did  not  suppose  that  I  was  wearing  them  in  honor 
ot  your  Yisit,  did  you?"  asked  Potemkin,  with  quiet  insolence. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  tliought  it  a  mere  mise  en  scene. " 

"  Ah,  Count  Cobenzl  is  still  mad  on  the  subject  of  the  drama, " 
replied  Potemkin,  laughing.  "  What  new  comedy  are  you  about  to 
get  up  at  the  Austrian  embassy,  eh?" 

"A  very  pretty  thing,  just  from  Paris,  yoiu-  higlmess.  It  is 
called,  'The  Disgraced  Favorite,  or  the  Whims  of  Fortune. '  " 

Potemkin's  eyes  flashed  fire,  but  he  controlled  liimself,  and  said, 
'  Where  is  the  scene  of  the  drama  laid?" 

"  I  do  not  precisely  remember.     In  Tartary,  or  Mongolia,  or — " 

'■  Or  in  the  moon,  "  interrupted  Potemkin,  laughing.  "  But  come 
—be  seated,  and  let  us  be  serious."  So  saying,  Potemkin  threw 
himself  back  again  upon  the  divan,  and  pointed  to  an  arm-chair, 
wliich  Cobenzl  quietly  accepted.  The  chair  happened  to  be  close  to 
the  spot  where  the  ribbon  of  the  Black  Eagle  was  lying.  Cobenzl 
seeing  that  it  was  under  his  feet,  picked  it  up,  and  presented  it  to 
the  prince. 

"  You  know  not  what  you  do,  count.  You  raise  your  enemy  when 
vou  raise  that  ribbon.  It  has  just  been  sent  to  me  by  the  King  of 
I'nissia.  I  am  ((uite  in  despair  at  being  obliged  to  wear  it,  for  it 
1  ik(^s  up  so  much  room.  The  star  of  the  Black  Eagle  is  very  la/ge. 
Do  you  not  think  so?" 


THE  AUSTRIAN  AMBASSADOR.  521 

"  Yes,  your  highness,  and  I  congratulate  you  upon  its  possession, 
for  the  close  King  of  Prussia  does  not  often  give  away  his 
diamonds. " 

"  It  would  appear  that  diamonds  lo  not  abound  in  Prussia, "  re- 
plied Potemkin,  with  a  gesture  of  slight  toward  the  cross  on  his 
breast.     "  These  brilliants  are  rather  yellow. " 

"  Do  you  prefer  Austrian  diamonds?"  asked  Cobenzl,  significantly. 

''I  have  never  seen  any,"  answered  Potemkin,  with  a  yawn. 

"Then  I  am  happy  to  be  the  first  to  introduce  them  to  your 
notice, "  said  Cobenzl  rising,  and  taking  from  his  pocket  a  turkey- 
morocco  case.     "  My  august  emperor  has  commissioned  me  to  pre 
sent  to  you  this  little  casket. " 

"Another  order  !"  said  Potemkin,  with  affected  horror. 

"No,  your  highness.  Orders  are  toys  for  grown-up  children. 
But  you  are  a  great  man,  and  a  toy  for  you  must  have  some  scientific 
significance.  My  emperor  has  heard  that  your  highness  has  a  costly 
collection  of  minerals  and  precious  stones.  His  majesty,  therefore, 
with  his  own  hand  has  selected  the  specimens  which  I  have  the 
honor  to  present  in  his  name." 

Potemkin,  whose  indiff^erence  had  all  vanished  as  he  listened, 
opened  the  casket  with  some  eagerness ;  and  an  exclamation  of 
rapture  fell  from  his  lips,  as  he  surveyed  its  costly  contents.  There 
were  Indian  diamonds  of  unusual  size  and  brilliancy  ;  Turkish  rubies 
of  fiery  crimson  ;  magnificent  sapphires  ;  turquoises  of  purest  tint ; 
large  specimens  of  lapis-lazuli,  all  veined  with  gold ;  and  translu- 
cent chrysoprase  of  bright  metallic  green. 

"This  is  indeed  a  princely  gift,"  cried  the  covetous  Potemkin, 
perfectly  dazzled  by  the  magnificence,  and  intoxicated  by  the  pos- 
session of  all  these  riches..  "  Never  have  I  seen  such  jewels.  They 
blaze  like  the  stars  of  heaven  !" 

Cobenzl  bowed.  "And  this  sapphire!"  continued  the  prince, 
"the  empress  herself  has  nothing  to  compare  to  it !" 

"  The  czarina  looks  upon  your  highness  as  the  brightest  jewel  in 
her  crown — as  her  incomparable  sapphire.  But  observe  this  tur- 
quoise ;  it  is  one  of  the  greenish  hue  so  prized  by  connoisseurs,  and 
its  like  is  not  to  be  purchased  with  money." 

Suddenly  Potemkin,  ashamed  of  his  raptures,  closed  the  casket 
with  a  click  and  pushed  it  aside. 

"You  can  tell  your  emperor,"  said  he,  "th^t  you  were  an  eye- 
witness of  the  gratification  I  have  received  from  this  superb 
addition  to  my  scientific  collections.  And  now,  count,  without 
circumlocution,  how  can  I  serve  you,  and  what  does  the  emperor  de- 
sire of  me?    Such  gifts  as  these  indicate  a  request." 

"Frankly,  then,  the  emperor  seeks  your  highness's  friendship, 
and  wishes  you  to  further  his  majesty's  plans." 

"  What  are  these  plans?" 

"  Oh,  your  highness  is  too  shrewd  a  statesman  not  to  have  guessed 
them,  and  not  to  understand  that  we  merely  shift  the  scene  of  the 
war.  We  pitch  our  tents  at  St.  Petersburg  with  the  object  of  win- 
ning Russia  to  our  side. " 

"  But  here  Prussia  holds  the  battle-field  ;  you  will  have  to  fight 
against  superior  numbers. " 

"Not  if  Prince  Potemkin  be  our  ally, "  replied  Cobenzl,  courte- 
ously.    "True,  Prussia  has  Orloff',  Pauin,  and  the  grand  duke — " 

"And  who  tells  you  that  Prussia  has  not  Potemkin  also?"  cried 


5-33  JOSEPH   II.   AND   HIS   COURT, 

the  prince,  laughing.     "  Do  you  not  see  that  I  wear  the  Black 
Eagle?" 

"  Yes;  but  your  highness  is  too  wise  to  be  the  ally  of  Prussia. 
You  are  too  great  a  statesman  to  commit  such  a  Mvue.  Orloff, 
who  has  never  forgiven  you  for  succeeding  him  in  Catharine's 
favor,  Orloff  asks  no  greater  triumph  than  that  of  harnessing 
your  highness  to  the  car  of  Iris  political  proclivities." 

"  He  sliall  never  enjoy  that  triumph,"  muttered  Potemkin. 

"  Not  if  the  emperor  can  prevent  it;  and,  therefore,  his  majesty 
hopes  that  your  highness  will  siistain  Austria." 

"But  Avhat  are  Austria's  plans?" 

"  Austria  wishes  to  occupy  the  place  which  Prussia  now  enjoys 
as  the  ally  of  Russia.  Prussia,  while  wooing  the  czarina,  ogles  the 
grand  duke,  and  it  is  her  interest  to  bring  them  together.  I  know 
that  the  matter  was  thoroughly  disciissed  yesterday  between 
Count  Panin  and  the  Prussian  ambassador." 

"The  Prussian  ambassador  was  yesterday  in  conference  with 
Panin?" 

"Not  only  yesterday,  but  to-day,  I  met  him  coming  from  Panin 's 
with  his  order  of  the  Black  Eagle,  and  a  letter  for  your  highness 
from  the  king. " 

"  Truly  your  spies  are  great  detectives, "  cried  Potemkin. 

"They  are  well  paid,"  was  the  significant  reply. 

"And  what,  for  example,  were  the  proposals  of  Von  Gortz?" 

"VonGortz  stated  that  as  Panin,  the  grand  duke,  and  himself 
were  not  a  match  for  the  emperor  and  yovir  highness,  you  were  to 
be  won  over  by  flattery,  orders,  and  promises." 

"  True  !"  cried  Potemkin.     "  Y'our  spies  are  right.     What  else?" 

"Another  powerful  friend  of  Prussia  has  been  recalled  from  his 
estates,  and  summoned  to  Petersburg. " 

Potemkin  sprang  from  the  sofa  with  a  howl  of  rage. 

"What !     Orlolf  summoned  by  Von  Gortz  ;  he  who — " 

"  WIio  was  enticing  your  highness  with  vain  promises,  had  sug- 
gested to  the  czarina  the  imperative  necessity  of  recalling  Orloff, 
with  the  express  intention  of  holding  you  in  check." 

"What  an  infernal  plot!  But  it  bears  the  stamp  of  Panin's 
treachery  upon  its  face,"  nmttered  Potemkin,  while  with  hasty 
strides  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 

Cobenzl  watclied  him  with  a  half  smile,  and  takiug  up  the  rib- 
bon of  the  Black  Eagle,  he  passed  it  through  his  hands  by  way  of 
pastime. 

After  much  going  to  and  fro,  Potemkin  stopped,  and  his  counte- 
nance was  expressive  of  courage  and  resolve. 

"  Count  Cobenzl,  I  know  what  are  the  plans  of  Austria,  and  they 
shall  be  sustained.  Your  interests  are  mine,  for  it  is  no  longer 
a  question  of  Austria  or  Prussia,  but  of  Potemkin  or  Orloff !  You 
see,  therefore,  that  I  am  sincere  ;  but  Austria  must  sustain  me,  and 
we  must  tread  our  pol^'^ical  path  together." 

"Austria  will  go  hand  and  heart  with  your  highness." 

"Austria  must  sustain  me,  I  say,  and  ovir  password  shall  be, 
'The  Conquest  of  Turkey.  '  That  is  the  spell  by  which  I  rule  the 
czarina.  My  enemies  oft(»n  fill  her  mind  with  distrust  of  me,  but 
tliat  great  project  shields  me  fi-om  their  weapons.  Still  I  am  in 
danger ;  for  here  in  Russia,  we  look  neither  to  the  past  nor  to  tlie 
future  ;  the  excitement  of  the  hour  reigns  absolute.     A  good  subject 


THE  AUSTRIAN  AMBASSADOR.  523 

never  knows  ho^v  to  regulate  his  conduct.  If  I  were  sure  of  blame 
for  doing  evil,  or  of  approbation  for  doing  good,  I  might  know  what 
to  expect  from  the  czarina.  But  when  a  sovereign  is  the  slave  of 
her  passions,  all  ordinary  modes  of  deducing  effect  from  cause  fall 
to  the  ground.*  I  live  in  a  whirlpool,  from  which  I  can  devise  no 
means  of  escape  ;  but,  by  the  grave  of  my  mother,  this  life  shall 
cease  !  I  shall  resume  my  power  over  the  empress,  and  I  shall  tram- 
ple my  enemies  underfoot,  were  they  to  take  shelter  under  the  throne 
itself !" 

While  Potemkin  spoke  thus,  he  clinched  his  fist,  and  his  hercu- 
lean arm  was  raised  as  if  to  fell  his  invisible  enemies. 

"Whosoever  be  the  foe,  Austi-ia  will  be  at  your  side,"  said 
Cobenzl. 

"I  believe  you,"  replied  Potemkin,  with  returning  calmness,  "for 
it  is  your  interest  to  be  there.  I  know  what  you  desire.  First 
you  supplant  Prussia  with  Russia,  and  that  entails  a  coolness  with 
France,  Prussia's  dearest  friend.  Then  you  also  dissolve  with 
France,  and  we  both  court  the  alliance  of  England,  so  as  to  isolate 
France  and  Prussia  from  European  politics.  The  plan  is  good,  and 
will  succeed  if  you  are  discreet. " 

"How  discreet?" 

"  You  must  weigh  well  your  behavior  toward  the  czarina.  I  dare 
not  advise  the  emperor,  but  let  me  advise  you.  You  have  often 
occasion  to  see  the  empress.  Before  you  see  her  consult  with  me  as 
to  the  topics  of  your  discourse  with  her,  and  so  we  shall  always  be 
enabled  to  act  in  concert.  Avoid  all  dissimulation  ;  let  her  perceive 
that  you  leave  craft  to  the  lovers  of  Prussia.  Flatter  as  often  as  you 
see  fit ;  flatter  Catharine,  however,  not  for  what  she  is,  but  what  she 
ought  to  be.f  Convince  her  that  Austria  is  willing  to  further  her 
ambition,  not  to  restrain  it,  as  Prussia  has  always  done.  Do  this, 
and  in  a  few  months  Austria  will  have  changed  Indies  with  Pnissia, 
and  your  enemies  and  mine  shall  be  overthrown  together." 

A  knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  an  officer  entered. 

"How  dare  you  interrupt  me  V"  cried  Potemkin,  stamping  his  foot. 

"  Pardon,  your  highness.  The  private  secretary  of  the  Emperor 
of  Austria  has  orders  from  his  sovereign  to  hand  a  note  to  Count 
Cobenzl  in  your  highness's  presence." 

"A  very  singular  order.  But  we  will  gratify  the  emperor. 
Admit  his  majesty's  messenger." 

Giinther  was  introduced,  who  bowed  low  to  Potemkin,  passed  on, 
and  delivered  his  note. 

"From  his  majesty's  hand, "  said  he.  "Yoiu*  excellency  is  to 
read  it  at  once.  It  requires  no  answer. "  Then,  bowing  deeply,  the 
secretary  backed  out  of  the  room,  and  the  discreet  portiere  fell,  pre- 
venting the  transmission  of  the  slightest  sound. 

"Read,"  said  Potemkin,  "for  doubtless  the  emperor  has  good 
reason  for  his  haste. " 

Count  Cobenzl  broke  the  seal ;  but  instead  of  a  note  for  himself, 
a  sealed  dispatch  within,  bore  the  address  of  the  prince.  The  count 
presented  it  at  once,  and  Potemkin  eagerly  tore  it  open.  He  seemed 
electrified  by  its  contents  ;  so  much  so  that  Cobenzl  started  forward 
to  his  assistance,  exclaiming:  "Gracious  Heaven,  what  has  hap- 
pened?    Your  highness  is  ill !" 

*  PotemkiQ''s  own  words.     Raumer,  vol.  v.,  p.  573. 
tibid. 


524  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS  COURT. 

"No,  no,"  said  Potenikin,  "but  read  this,  that  I  maybe  sure  I 
do  not  dream. " 

Cobenzl  took  the  letter  and  read  : 

"'My  Dear  Prince:  To  win  your  friendship,  I  have  neither 
flattery,  decorations,  duchies,  princesses,  nor  promises  for  the 
future  ;  convinced  as  I  am  that  your  higliness  is  able  to  reach  the 
summit  of  your  desires  without  help  from  other  mortals.  But  I 
have  something  to  impart  which  will  prove  the  sincerity  of  my  in- 
tentions toward  you.  An  hour  ago.  Count  Orloff  arrived  in  St. 
Petersburg,  and  he  is  now  iu  secret  conference  with  the  czarina. 

"'Joseph.'" 

"  I  was  right ;  it  was  not  my  secret  apprehensions  which  conjured 
those  spectral  letters, "  cried  Potemkin  ;  "  they  are  really  the  writing 
of  the  emperor,  and  Gregory  OrlofT  is  here. " 

He  sprang  forward  like  a  bull  rushing  to  the  attack. 

"  Gregory  Orloff  is  with  Catharine,  and  I  cannot  slay  him  at  her 
feet !  But  staj^  "  exclaimed  he,  exultingly,  and  then  his  words  re- 
solved themselves  back  into  thought.  "My  key — my  key — I  will 
force  her  to  hear  me.  Count, "  continued  he  aloud,  "  I  beg  of  you  to 
excuse  me,  for  I  must  go  at  once  to  the  empress.  Tell  the  emperor 
that  if  I  weather  the  storm  that  is  bursting  over  my  head,  I  will 
prove  to  him  my  eternal  gratitude  for  the  service  he  has  rendered  me 
this  day.  Farewell !  Pray  for  me  ;  or  if  you  like  better,  go  home 
and  get  up  a  fine  drama  for  the  day  of  my  burial. " 

"  Nothing  less  than  Voltaire's  '  Death  of  Julius  Caesar  '  would  suit 
such  an  occasion  ;  but  God  foi-bid  that  your  highness  should  come  to 
harm  !     I  hasten  to  do  your  bidding. " 

Potemkin,  trembling  with  impatience,  stood  watching  Count 
Cobenzl,  as  with  his  mincing  gait  he  tripped  out  of  the  room,  and 
turned  again  at  the  door  to  make  his  last  bow.  Scarcely  had  the 
portiere  fallen  when  he  sprang  across  the  room,  and  darted  toward 
his  sleeping-chamber.  Near  his  bed  stood  an  escritoire.  He  flung 
it  open  and  taking  thence  a  casket  filled  with  gold  chains,  diamonds, 
and  other  jewels,  \\e  turned  out  the  contents  with  such  violence  that 
they  flew  over  the  room  in  every  direction.  He  found  what  he 
sought ;  it  was  a  little  secret  compartment.  He  pressed  the  spring 
and  it  opened,  revealing  nothing  but  a  key  !  But  Potemkin  snatched 
it  up,  and,  unheeding  the  treasures  worth  a  million,  that  lay  scat- 
tered about  the  room,  he  passed  into  a  little  dark  anteroom,  thence 
into  a  corridor,  up  and  down  staircases,  forward,  forward,  rapidly 
forward  ! 

Finally  he  reached  the  end  of  a  long,  narrow  corridor.  Nothing 
here  was  to  be  seen  save  a  blank,  white  wall,  which  separated 
Potemkin's  dwelling  from  the  palace  of  the  czarina.  But  in  the 
corner  of  this  wall  was  a  scari-ely  perceptible  recess.  He  pressed  it 
with  his  finger,  wlien  the  wall  parted,  revealing  a  door — the  door 
which  led  to  Catharine's  own  private  apartments.  Potemkin's  key 
unlocked  it,  and  he  darted  through  the  opening — on,  on,  until  he 
reached  another  door,  which  also  yielded  to  his  key ;  and  then, 
breathing  freely,  he  looked  around  the  cabinet  of  the  czarina,  and 
exclaimed,  "I  am  saved  !" 


THE  EMPRESS  CATHARINE.  525 

CHAPTER    CXXXVI. 
THE     EMPRESS     CATHARINE. 

The  magnificent  state-apartments  of  the  empress  were  silent  and 
empty,  for  she  had  given  out  that  slie  needed  solitude  to  work,  she 
would  hold  no  levee  to-day.  But  she  was  not  alone  ;  she  was  in  a 
cabinet  which  led  to  her  bedchamber ;  and  with  her  was  Count 
Orloff,  her  former  lover  and  the  murderer  of  her  husband. 

The  enipi-ess  lay  half  buried  in  the  depths  of  a  crimson  velvet 
couch ;  and  her  large  blue  eyes  were  fixed  with  an  expression  of 
tenderness  upon  Orloff,  who  sat  opposite  to  her.  In  spite  of  her  fifty 
years,  Catharine  was  a  very  handsome  woman.  Age  had  respected 
her  fair,  imperial  brow,  and  the  fingers  of  time  had  relented  as  they 
passed  over  it.  Her  eyes  were  as  bright  and  beautiful  as  ever  ;  her 
lips  as  red,  and  their  smile  as  fascinating,  as  in  the  days  of  her 
youth  ;  and  in  her  bosom  beat  the  passionate,  craving,  restless  heart 
of  a  maiden  of  seventeen.  This  heart  was  as  capable  of  love  as  of 
hate  ;  and  her  graceful  person  as  fitted  to  inspire  love  as  it  had  ever 
been.  Just  now  Catliarine  was  anxious  to  please.  She  thought  over 
the  golden  hours  of  her  youthful  passion,  and  tried  to  win  a  smile 
from  Orloff 's  stern  face.  She  forgot  in  him  the  man  who  had  placed 
a  bloody  crown  upon  her  head  ,  she  saw  but  the  paramour  who  had 
wreathed  her  brow  with  tlie  myrtles  and  roses  of  requited  love. 

They  had  spoken  of  indifferent  things,  but  Catharine  had  grown 
silent,  and  the  silence  was  becoming  embarrassing  to  Orloff. 

"Your  majesty  commanded  my  presence,"  began  he. 

Catharine  raised  her  beautiful  white  arm  from  the  cushion  where 
it  lay,  and  motioned  him  to  approach. 

"Hush,  Orlofi","  said  she,  in  a  low  voice.  "No  one  hears  us,  do 
not  call  me  majestj\" 

"My  revered  sovereign,"  stammered  Orloff,  "I—" 

"Sovereign  !  Do  I  look  as  if  I  were  your  sovereign,  Orloff?  No, 
no,  I  am  here  as  the  woman  who  is  not  ashamed  of  the  love  we  once 
cherished  for  each  other.  The  world  says  tliat  I  am  not  pious,  and 
verily  I  believe  tliat  Voltaire  has  corrupted  me  ;  but  I  have  one 
steadfast  faith,  and  I  cling  to  it  as  fanatics  do  to  Christianity.  My 
religion  is  the  religion  of  memory,  Gregory  ;  and  you  were  its  first 
hierophant. " 

Orloff  muttered  some  unintelligible  words ;  for  truth  to  tell,  he 
did  not  quite  comprehend  the  vagaries  of  his  imperial  mistress.  He 
was  a  man  of  deeds,  fit  for  action  and  strife  ;  but  there  was  neither 
imagination  nor  poetry  in  his  nature.  He  saw,  however,  that  Cath- 
arine smiled  and  beckoned.  He  hastened  forward,  and  bending  the 
knee,  kissed  her  hand. 

"  Gregory, "  said  she,  tenderly,  "  I  sent  for  you  to  talk  of  the  pros- 
pects of  your  son. " 

"Your  majesty  speaks  of  Basil  Bobinsky?"  asked  Orloff,  with  a 
smile. 

"Yes,"  replied  Catharine,  "of  your  son,  or  rather,  if  you  prefer 
it,  of  oxn'  son. " 

"Your  majesty  acknowledges  him,  and  yet  you  have  thrust  his 
father  from  your  heart.  You  sacrificed  me  to  a  man  whom  I  hate — 
not  because  he  is  my  successful  rival,  but  because  he  does  not  deserve 


526  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

the  love  of  my  empress  ;  because  he  is  a  heartless  spendthrift,  and  a 
wretch  who  is  ready  to  sell  his  sovereign's  honor  at  any  moment, 
provided  the  price  offered  him  be  worth  the  treachery.  Oh  !  it  mad- 
dens me  when  I  think  that  Gregory  Orloii  was  displaced  for  a 
Potemkin !" 

Catharine  laid  her  jewelled  hand  vipon  Orloff's  lips.  "Hush, 
Orloff,  do  not  vituperate.  I  have  called  for  you  to-day  to  give  me 
peace.  I  do  not  wish  the  two  men  who  share  my  heart  to  stand  for- 
ever glaring  at  each  other  in  implacable  hatred.  I  wish  to  unite  you 
through  the  sweet  influences  of  a  young  couple's  love.  I  beseech 
you,  Gregory,  do  not  refuse  me  the  boon  I  crave.  Give  your  con- 
sent for  Basil  to  marry  the  Countess  Alexandra,  Potemkin's  niece." 

"Never!"  thundered  Orloff,  starting  to  his  feet,  and  retreating 
like  an  animal  at  bay.  "Never  will  I  consent  for  my  bastard  to 
many  the  wench  of  such  a  contemptible  fool  as  Potemkin  !"  * 

Catharine  rose  from  her  couch  with  a  look  of  tender  reproach. 
"You  will  not  grant  my  heart's  dearest  wish?"  said  she. 

"I  cannot  do  it,  Catharine, "  cried  Orloff,  wildly.  "My  blood 
boils  at  the  very  thought  of  being  connected  to  Potemkin.  No, 
indeed !  No  tie  shall  ever  bind  me  to  him,  that  hinders  my  hand, 
should  you  one  day  ask  of  me,  to  sever  his  head  from  his  body. " 

Catharine  again  put  her  hand  before  Orloff's  mouth.  "Hush, 
you  fulminating  Jove!"  said  she.  "Must  you  be  forever  forging 
thunderbolts,  or  waging  war  with  Titans?  But  you  know  too  well 
that  in  your  godlike  moods  you  are  irresistible.  What  a  triumph  it 
is  to  win  a  boon  from  such  a  man !  Invest  me  with  this  glory, 
Orloff ;  and  I  give  up  my  plan  for  a  marriage  between  Basil  and 
Potemkin's  niece." 

"  Niece, "  echoed  Orloff,  " say  his  mistress !" 

"Not  so,"  exclaimed  Catharine.  "So  treacherous,  I  will  not 
believe  Potemkin  to  be  !" 

"  Nev^-theless,  Alexandra  is  his  mistress,  and  the  whole  court 
knows  it." 

"  If  I  find  it  so,  Potemkin  shall  feel  the  weight  of  my  vengeance, 
and  nothing  shall  save  him  !"  cried  Catharine,  her  eyes  darting  fire. 
"But  I  tell  you  it  is  not  so.  He  has  his  faults,  but  this  is  not  one  of 
them." 

"Then  you  confess  that  the  great  Potemkin  has  faiilts,  do  you?" 

"  It  was  precisely  because  of  his  faults  that  I  sent  for  you  !" 

"  3^6 ! " 

"  You — Gregory  Orloff,  the  truest  of  the  true  !  You  have  done  me 
good  service  in  your  life  ;  to  you  I  am  indebted  for  my  crown,  and 
you  are  its  brightest  jewel.  But  I  have  a  favor  now  to  ask  of  j'ou 
which  concerns  my  happiness  more  than  any  thing  you  have  ever 
done  for  me  before,  my  Gregory. " 

"  Speak,  my  empress,  speak,  and  I  will  die  to  serve  you  ;"  replied 
Orloff,  inspired  by  Catharine's  earnestness. 

She  laid  her  white  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and  said  in  her  most 
enticing  tones :  "  Be  the  friend  of  Potemkin.  Let  him  learn  by 
your  example  to  be  more  careful  of  the  great  trusts  which  he  holds 
from  me  ;  more  conciliating,  and  more  grateful.  For,  indeed,  in 
return  for  all  the  favors  I  bestow  upon  him,  he  makes  my  life  one 
long  martyrdom.  For  God's  sake,  Orloff,  be  friendly  with  Potem- 
kin, and  try  to  rescue  me  from  the  tempests  which  daily  and  hourlj'^ 
♦Orloff's  own  words.    Raumer's  Contributions,  etc.,  vol.  v.,  p.  412. 


THE  EMPRESS   CATHARINE.  527 

burst  over  my  devoted  head."*  She  leaned  her  head  upon  his 
bosom,  and  looked  imploringly  into  his  face. 

"  Your  majesty, "  said  Orloff,  warmly,  "  you  know  that  I  am  your 
slave.  If  Potemkin  is  obnoxious  to  you,  speak  the  word,  and  I 
annihilate  him.  But  my  reputation  will  not  permit  me  to  consort 
with  a  man  whom  I  despise,  and  whom  I  should  be  forced,  neverthe- 
less, to  regard  as  the  first  subject  of  the  empire.  Pardon  me  if  I 
cannot  grant  your  majesty's  petition." 

"  Go,  then,  cruel  man,  and  leave  me  to  my  fate, "  said  Catharine 
in  tears. 

"  Since  your  majesty  desires  it,  I  retire. "  And  Orloff  bowing, 
turned  to  leave  the  room,  but  Catharine  threw  herself  upon  the  sofa 
with  a  sob  and  he  returned. 

"  Do  you  weep  for  Potemkin  ?"  said  he.  "  Spare  your  tears.  He 
loves  no  one  but  himself,  and  his  only  aim  in  life  is  to  enervate  and 
weaken  yoiw  mind,  that  he  may  reign  in  your  stead. " 

■'  Oh,  Orloff,  be  merciful !"  said  Catharine,  clasping  her  hands. 

But  Orloff  continued:  "Potemkin  has  essentially  damaged  your 
fleet ;  he  has  ruined  your  army  ;  and  what  is  worse,  he  has  lowered 
you  in  the  estimation  of  your  subjects,  and  of  the  world.  If  you  are 
willing  to  be  rid  of  so  dangerous  a  man,  my  life  is  at  your  disposal ; 
but  if  you  must  temporize  with  him,  I  can  do  notliing  to  further 
measures  which  are  to  be  carried  out  by  flattery  and  hyi)ocrisy. " 

"  I  believe  you,  unhappily  I  believe  you, "  said  Catharine,  weep- 
ing. "Potemkin  deserves  all  that  you  say  of  him,  but  I  have  not 
the  heart  to  punish  him  as  he  deserves.  I  cannot  bid  you  destroy 
the  giant  whose  shadow  darkens  my  throne.  You  see,  Orloff,  that  I 
am  a  poor,  weak  woman,  and  have  not  the  strength  to  punish  the 
guilty. " 

"  I  see  that  your  majesty  prizes  the  oppressor  of  my  country  far 
more  than  that  countiy's  self;  and  since  it  is  so,  I  have  nothing 
more  to  do  here.  Farewell,  Catharine — I  must  return  to  Gatz- 
china. " 

He  kissed  the  hand  of  the  empress,  and  passed  into  the  adjoining 
apartment.  He  went  slowly  through  the  magnificent  state-rooms, 
through  which  he  had  to  pass  to  the  corridor,  and  with  weeping 
eyes  Catharine  followed  his  tall  form  from  door  to  door.  She  would 
have  leaned  for  support  upon  that  strong  man,  but  he  refused  to 
shelter  her,  and  she  felt  a  sense  of  desolation  which  seemed  to  her  a 
presentiment  of  evil. 

"Orloff,  Orloff  !"  cried  she,  imj^loringly  ;  and  she  hastened  after 
him.  He  was  passing  out  into  the  corridor,  when  he  heard  her 
voice,  and  saw  her  coming  fleet  as  a  dove  toward  him. 

"  Orloff, "  said  she,  panting  for  breath,  "  do  not  leave  St.  Peters- 
burg to-day.  Remain  for  three  days,  and,  perhaps,  in  that  time  I 
may  gather  corn-age  to  accept  your  help,  and  rid  myself  of  this 
man. " 

"I  will  await  your  majesty's  decision,"  replied  Orloff;  "and  if 
then  my  sword  is  not  required  in  your  service,  I  shall  leave  St. 
Petersburg  forever. " 

He  bowed,  and  the  heavy  portiere  fell  behind  him  as  he  paesed 
from  the  czarina's  sight.  Slowly  she  returned  to  her  cabinet,  mur- 
muring, "Three  days  he  will  wait  to  know  if — " 

But  suddenly  she  started,  appalled  at  the  sight  of  an  apparition 
*  Catharine's  own  words. 


528  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

that  occupied  the  divan  on  which  she  was  about  to  repose  her  weary- 
limbs.  She  uttered  a  wild  scream  of  terror,  for  on  this  divan  sat — 
Potemkin. 


CHAPTER    CXXXVII, 

•   THE  CZARINA  AND  HER  MASTER. 

With  flashing  eyes,  folded  arms,  and  pale,  stern,  face,  sat  Po- 
temkin, and  his  glance  seemed  about  to  anniliilate  the  terrified 
woman,  who  had  neither  strength  to  call  for  help  nor  self-possession 
to  greet  her  unwelcome  visitor.  He  rose,  however,  and  came  for- 
ward. Catharine  trembled  and  shuddered  as  he  passed  her  by, 
locked  the  door  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket. 

The  empress  looked  around,  and  in  deadly  fear  saw  that  there  was 
no  hope  of  rescue.     She  was  alone  with  Potemkin,  entirely  alone  ! 

Not  a  word  had  yet  been  spoken,  but  this  fearful  silence  afifrighted 
her  more  than  a  tempest  of  angry  words  would  have  done. 

At  last  Potemkin  stood  directly  before  her,  and  spoke.  "If 
Potemkin  is  obnoxious  to  you,  speak  the  word,  and  I  annihilate 
him." 

"  Oh  !"  screamed  Catharine,  "  he  knows  all. " 

"Yes,  I  know  all— I  heard  Orloff  oflFer  to  be  my  executioner. 
Pray,  why  did  you  not  accept  the  offer  at  once?" 

He  had  come  so  near,  tliat  Catharine  felt  his  hot  breath  upon  her 
brow,  like  the  blast  from  a  furnace. 

"I  ask  you  again, "  said  he,  stamping  his  foot  with  fiuy,  "why 
do  you  not  let  the  axe  of  your  executioner  fall  upon  my  neck?  An- 
swer me !" 

Catharine  was  speechless  with  fright,  and  Potemkin,  exasperated 
at  her  silence,  raised  his  clinched  hand,  and  looked  so  fierce,  that 
the  czarina  fell  backward  almost  upon  her  knees,  murmuring  — 

"Potemkin,  would  you  kill  me  !" 

"And  if  I  did,"  cried  he,  grinding  his  teeth,  "would  death  not 
be  the  just  punishment  of  your  treachery?  Your  treachery  to  me, 
who  have  given  you  my  heart,  my  soul,  my  life,  while  you— betray 
and  accuse  me,  rot  face  to  face,  as  would  an  honorable  woman,  but 
behind  my  back  as  becomes  a  coward  and  a  hypocrite  !  Look  at  me, 
and  answer  my  question,  I  command  you  !" 

Again  he  raised  his  hand,  and  his  deep  voice  rolled  like  angry 
thunder  in  her  ear.  Catharine,  against  her  will,  obeyed  his  voice, 
and  raised  her  eyes  to  his.  She  saw  his  lofty  brow,  like  that  of  an 
angry  demi-god,  his  dark,  dangerous,  fiery  eyes,  his  glistening 
teeth,  his  magnificent  frame,  lithe,  athletic,  and  graceful  as  that  of 

"The  statue  that  enchants  the  world," 

and  a  sensation  of  shuddering,  ecstasy  flooded  her  whole  being. 
Forgotten  were  her  fears,  her  terror,  her  dream  of  vengeance  ;  and, 
regardless  of  the  hand  which  was  still  raised  to  threaten  her,  she 
cried  out,  in  tones  of  mingled  love  and  anguish  : 

"Oh.  Alexandrowitsch,  how  preter-human  is  your  beauty  !  You 
stand,  like  an  avenging  god,  before  me  ;  and  I— I  can  only  worship 
and  tremble !" 

With  faltering  steps  she  ap]iroached,  and  folding  her  arms  around 
his  stalwart   form,  she  laid  her  head  upon   his  breast,  and  wept. 


THE  CZARINA  AND  HER  MASTER.  529 

"  See, "  murmured  she,  "  I  am  here  to  receive  the  stroke.  Let  me 
die  by  your  liand,  Gi-egory  Alexandrowitsch,  for  since  you  love  me 
no  longer,  I  am  weary  of  life  !" 

Potemkin  heaved  a  sigh,  and  freeing  himself  from  Catharine's 
arms,  fell  back  upon  the  sofa,  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and 
sobbed  convulsively. 

"  Why  do  you  weep,  Potemkin?"  said  Catharine,  hastening  to  his 
side. 

"Why  I  weep!"  exclaimed  he.  "I  weep  because  of  my  own 
crime.  Despair  had  well-nigh  made  of  me  a  traitor.  Why  does  not 
this  hand  wither,  which  was  uplifted  to  touch  the  anointed  of  the 
Lord  !  Wliy  does  not  Heaven  smite  the  wretch  wliose  misery  had 
tempted  him  to  such  irreverence  of  his  sovereign  !" 

And  Potemkin  flung  himself  at  Catharine's  feet,  crying  out : 

"  Kill  me,  Catharine,  that  I  may  not  go  mad  for  remorse  of  my 
treason  !" 

Catharine  smiled,  and  tried  to  raise  him  up. 

"No,"  said  she,  tenderly,  "live,  and  live  for  me." 

But  Potemkin  still  clung  to  her  feet. 

"  No,  let  me  lie  here  as  the  sinner  lies  before  the  altar  of  the  Most 
High  !  I  am  a  traitor — but  despair  has  made  me  criminal.  As  I 
stood  behind  the  tapestry,  and  heard  how  my  empress  accused  me,  I 
felt  that  the  spectral  hand  of  madness  was  hovering  above  my  brain. 
Oh,  Catharine,  it  is  you  whom  I  adore,  you  who  have  made  of  me  a 
lunatic  !" 

Again  he  buried  his  face  in  Catharine's  robes,  and  wept.  She, 
perfectly  disarmed,  leaned  over  him,  caressing  him  with  her  hands, 
and  imploring  him  to  be  comforted. 

"  Let  me  lie  here  and  weep, "  continued  her  Alexandrowitsch, 
"  not  for  me,  but  for  my  Catharine — the  star  of  my  life  !  She,  whom 
my  euemies  would  deceive ;  that  deceiving  they  might  ruin  her, 
when  her  only  friend  is  lost  to  her  forever  !" 

"Of  whom  do  you  speak?"  asked  the  czarina,  frightened. 

"  I  speak  of  those  who  hate  me,  because  I  will  not  join  them  in 
their  treachery  toward  my  empress — of  those  wlio  hold  out  to  me 
gold  and  diamonds,  and  who  hate  me  because  I  will  not  sell  my 
loyalty  for  pelf.  Oh,  I  was  flattered  with  orders  and  honors,  prom- 
ises and  presents.  But  I  would  not  listen.  What  cared  I  for  future 
security?  What  mattered  it  to  me  that  I  was  to  be  the  victim  of 
Paul's  vengeance?  I  thought  of  you  alone  ;  and  more  to  me  was  the 
safety  of  your  crown  than  that  of  my  worthless  life !  I  was  loyal 
and  incorruptible  !" 

Catharine  had  listened  with  distended  eyes  and  lips  parted  in 
suspense.  When  Potemkin  named  her  son,  her  whole  bearing- 
changed.  From  the  love-stricken  woman  she  leaped  at  once  into 
the  magnificent  Czarina. 

"  Potemkin, "  said  she,  imperiously,  "  I  command  j^ou  to  rise  and 
answer  my  questions. " 

Potemkin  rose  with  the  promptness  of  a  well-trained  slave,  and 
said,  humbly : 

"Imperial  mistress,  speak — and,  by  the  grave  of  my  mother,  I 
will  answer  truthfully." 

"What  means  your  allusion  to  the  Grand  Duke  Paul?  AVho 
are  the  enemies  that  sought  to  corrupt  you?  What  are  their 
aims?" 


530  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  The  grand  duke  is  weary  of  his  subordinate  position,  and  yearns 
for  the  crown  which  he  thinks  it  is  his  right  to  wear." 

Catharine's  two  hands  clutched  at  her  head,  as  though  to  defend 
her  crown. 

"  He  shall  not  have  it !"  she  screamed.  "  He  will  not  dare  to 
raise  liis  impious  hands  to  snatch  his  mother's  rights  away  !" 

"  He  will  find  other  hands  to  do  it ;  for  you  well  know,  Catharine, 
that  the  crime  from  which  we  recoil  ourselves,  we  transfer  to  other 
hands,  while  we  accept  its  fruits." 

Catharine  shuddered,  and  grew  pale. 

"  Yes,  yes, "  murmured  she  to  herself,  "  yes,  I  know  it— well  I 
know  it,  for  it  has  murdered  sleep  for  me  !" 

"  And  the  grand  duke  has  accomplices,  Catharine.  Not  one,  nor 
two— but  half  of  your  subjects  mutter  within  themselves  that  the 
crown  you  wear  has  been  Paul's  since  his  majority.  Russia  is  one 
grand  conspiracy  against  you,  and  your  enemies  have  pitched  their 
tents  at  the  foot  of  your  throne.  They  may  well  hate  the  only  man 
who  stands  between  you  and  destruction.  Their  arrows  have  glanced 
harmlessly  from  the  adamantine  shield  of  his  loyalty,  and  there  re- 
mained but  the  alternative  of  calumniating  him  to  his  empress. 
Oh,  Catharine,  my  angel,  beware  of  Paul,  who  has  never  forgotten 
how  his  father  lost  his  life  !  Beware  of  Orloff,  who  has  never  for- 
given you  for  loving  me  !  Both  these  traitors,  with  Panin  to  truckle 
to  them,  are  in  league  with  Von  Gortz  to  force  you  into  a  league 
destructive  of  Russian  aggrandizement.  Oh,  my  beloved  I  sun  of  my 
eixstence  !  mount  into  the  heaven  of  your  own  greatness,  and  let  not 
the  cloud  of  intrigue  obscure  your  light.  And  when  safe  in  the 
noonday  of  your  splendor,  you  think  of  this  day,  let  one  warm  ray 
of  memory  stream  upon  the  grave  of  the  man  who  died  because  his 
empress  ceased  to  love  him  !" 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  peroration,  Potemkin  knelt  down  and 
passionately  kissed  the  hem  of  Catharine's  robe.  Then,  springing 
up,  he  clasped  his  hands,  and  turned  away.  But  the  empress  darted 
after  him  like  an  enraged  lioness,  and,  catching  his  arm,  gasped  : 

"What!  you  would  leave  me,  Alexandrowitsch?" 

"  Yes— I  go  to  Orloff,  to  receive  my  death  !  The  empress  has 
willed  it,'  and  she  shall  find  me  obedient  even  unto  my  latest 
breath. " 

"No,  Gregory, "  said  Catharine,  weeping  profusely,  "you  shall 
remain  to  shield  me  from  my  enemies.." 

So  saying,  she  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  but  he  drew  them 
away. 

"No,  Catharine,  no!  After  what  I  have  heard  to-day,  I  do  not 
desire  to  live.     Let  me  die  !  let  me  die  !" 

"Potemkin,"  cried  she,  struggling  to  detain  him,  "I  shall  never, 
never  mistrust  you  again.  And  I  promise  you  that  Gregory  Orlotf 
shall  never  jiass  this  tliresliold  again. " 

"How?  Do  you  jn-omise  to  sacrifice  Orloff  to  me?"  cried  Potem- 
kin, eagerly,  cured  in  a  thrice  of  his  desire  for  death. 

"I  do,  Gregory,  I  do.  There  shall  be  but  one  Gregory  to  reign 
over  my  court  and  my  lieart,  and  he  shall  be  Gregory  Potemkin  !" 

"You  swear  it,  Catharine?" 

"  My  imperial_word  thereupon.  Now  will  you  remain  and  protect 
me?" 

"  Yes,  I  remain,  to  confound  your  enemies.     It  shall  not  be  said 


THE  CZARINA  AND  HER  MASTER.  531 

that  I  am  flown  in  the  hour  when  your  noble  head  is  endangered. 
I  shall  remain  for  your  sake,  for  the  peril  is  very  great,  Cath- 
arine !" 

"  Gracious  Heaven,  Gregory,  what  danger  threatens  me  ?" 

"You  ask  me  such  a  question  while  Paul  lives,  and  has  Orloflf  and 
Panin  for  his  accomplices,  and  Frederick  for  his  friend'/" 

•'Oh,  no,  dear  Gregory,  your  anxiety  leads  you  into  error.  I 
know  that  Paul  hates  me,  but  I  do  not  believe  that  Prussia  is  his 
ally  ;  for  it  is  clearly  the  interest  of  Prussia  to  conciliate  me,  and  he 
is  too  wise  to  entangle  himself  in  such  conspiracies  just  at  the  ex- 
piration of  our  treaty." 

"Oh,  you  noble,  unsuspecting  woman!"  cried  Potemkin,  ar- 
dently, "you  know  nothing  of  the  egotism  of  tlie  world.  You 
believe  in  the  honesty  of  Frederick,  while  he  speculates  upon  the 
consequences  of  your  death  !" 

The  empress  gi'ew  pale  and  her  eyes  flashed  with  anger.  "Prove 
it  to  me, "  said  she,  im[)eriously. 

Potemkin  drew  from  his  bosom  the  letter  he  had  that  morning 
received  from  Frederick.  Catharine  read  it,  and  then  said,  "Mvich 
flattery,  and  many  mysterious  promises.     Yv^hat  do  they  mean?" 

"Count  von  Gortz  was  so  good  as  to  explain.  The  king  offered 
to  make  me  Duke  of  Courlaud,  to  give  me  a  German  princess  in 
marriage,  and  to  secure  me  the  favor  of  your  successor. " 

"That  is  not  possible!"  exclaimed  Catharine,  "those  were  idle 
words. " 

"  Oh,  no,  your  majesty,  I  will  prove  to  you  that  they  are  not,  as 
soon  as  Von  Gortz  is  announced. " 

The  empress  looked  at  the  clock,  which  pointed  to  two. 

"  It  is  exactly  the  hour  I  appointed  to  receive  him, "  said  she. 
"  He  must  be  in  the  anteroom. " 

"Have  I  your  pei-missiou  to  go  to  him?" 

The  empress  nodded,  and  Potemkin,  drawing  the  key  from  his 
pocket,  unlocked  the  door  and  disappeared.  Catharine  looked  after 
him,  and  heaving  a  bitter  sigh,  said:  "No  more  hope  of  rescue! 
He  rules  over  me  like  irresistible  destiny  !" 

In  a  few  moments  Potemkin  returned  with  the  paper.  Catha- 
rine having  looked  over  it,  returned  it  with  a  smile. 

"  I  thank  the  King  of  Prussia  for  this, "  said  she,  gently,  "for  my 
last  hours  will  no  longer  be  embittered  by  anxiety  for  your  safety, 
Alexandrowitsch.     Preserve  this  paper  with  care." 

Potemkin  took  it  from  her  hand  and  tore  it  to  pieces. 

"Are  you  mad?"  cried  Catharine,  "that  you  tear  this  promise  of 
l)rotection  from  Paul?" 

"  When  Catharine  dies,  I  no  longer  desire  to  live,  and  I  hope  that 
Paul  may  release  me  of  life  at  once — I  shall  die  rejoicing." 

"Oh,  Gregory,"  exclaimed  Catharine,  again  moved  to  tears,  "I 
shall  never  forget  these  words  !  You  have  sacrificed  much  for  me, 
and  you  shall  have  princely  reward  ;  on  my  word  you  shall !  Let 
the  grand  duke  be  careful  to  utter  no  inconsiderate  words,  for  the 
steppes  of  Siberia  are  as  accessible  to  tlie  prince  as  to  the  peasant ; 
and  every  traitor,  were  he  the  heir  of  the  crown  itself,  is  amenable 
to  justice  before  me  !  And  Panin,  with  his  eternal  pratings  of  hon- 
esty and  frankness,  let  him,  too,  beware,  for  he  wavers  on  the  edge 
of  a  precipice !" 

"And  Prussia?"  asked  Potemkin,  with  a  significant  smile. 


532  JOSEPH  II.   AND   HIS  COURT. 

Catharine  smiled  in  return.  "  I  cannot  chide  him,  Potemkin,  for 
he  would  have  befriended  you. " 

"And  the  treaty?  Do  j'ou  intend  to  renew  it  with  this  wise,  far- 
seeing  prince?" 

"  I  cannot  say.  It  depends  uiwn  the  offers  he  makes.  Stay  in 
this  room,  Gregory  ;  and  I  will  receive  Von  Gortz  in  the  next  one, 
where  you  can  hear  what  passes  between  us. " 


■  CHAPTER    CXXXVIII. 

A  DIPLOMATIC  DEFEAT. 

The  empress  entered  the  small  audience-chamber  adjoining  her 
cabinet,  and  ringing  a  bell,  gave  orders  that  Count  von  Gortz  and 
Count  Panin  should  be  admitted.  Then  she  glided  to  an  arm  chair, 
the  only  one  in  the  room,  and  awaited  her  visitors,  who,  conform- 
able to  the  etiquette  of  the  Russian  court,  bowed  three  times  before 
the  all-powerful  czarina.  Panin's  salutation  was  that  of  a  serf  who 
is  accustomed  to  kiss  the  dust  frorh  his  tyrant's  feet ;  Von  Gortz,  on 
the  contrary,  had  the  bearing  of  a  man  of  the  world,  accustomed  to 
concede  homage  and  to  exact  it. 

"Well,  count,"  said  the  empress,  graciously,  "what  pleasant 
news  do  you  bring  from  Sans-Souci?  Has  your  accomplished  sov- 
ereign recovei-ed  from  his  indisposition?" 

"  The  king  has  recovered,  and  will  be  overjoyed  to  learn  that  your 
majesty  takes  so  much  interest  in  his  health." 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  Catharine,  "the  gi'eat  Frederick  knows  how 
much  interest  I  feel  in  his  life — perhaps  as  much  as  he  has  in  my 
death  !" 

Count  von  Gortz  looked  in  astonishment  at  the  smiling  face  of 
the  empress.  "  What !  Your  majesty  says  that  my  sovereign  has 
an  interest  in  your  majesty's  death  !" 

"Did  I  say  so?"  said  Catharine,  carelessly.  " It  was  a  slip  of  the 
tongue,  my  dear  count.  I  should  have  said  takes,  not  has:  for  many 
people  fancy  they  have  what  they  would  like  to  take.  I  should  have 
said  then,  that  the  king  cannot  take  more  interest  in  my  death  than 
I  do  in  his  life. " 

"The  king,  your  majesty,  is  much  older  than  you,  and  war  has 
added  to  his  years. " 

"If  war  adds  to  our  years,"  replied  Catharine,  laughing,  "then 
I  certainly  must  be  superannuated. " 

"I  trust  tliat  the  time  has  arrived  when  their  majesties  of  Russia 
and  Prussia  may  sheathe  the  sword,  and  enjoy  the  unspeakable 
blessings  of  permanent  peace, "  said  Von  G<">rtz,  with  emjihasis. 

"Are  you  of  the  same  mind,  Panin?"  asked  Catharine,  quickly. 

"I  know  from  my  sovereign's  noble  heart  that  she  would  gladly 
bestow  peace  upon  the  world,  and  I  believe  that  the  time  has  come 
when  that  is  possible, "  replied  Panin,  evasively. 

"  It  is  true,  we  have  for  the  moment  no  pretext  for  war.  The 
troubles  between  the  Porte  and  myself  were  settled  at  the  last  peace 
conv(»ntion,  and  he  will  take  good  care  not  to  provoke  a  renewal  of 
hostilities.  We  have  no  reason  to  apprehend  any  breach  of  pnace  in 
Poland,  and  our  relations  witli  tlic  otlier  European  powers  are  ecpially 
friendly.     England,  Holland,  and  France  seek  our  good-will ;  Prus- 


A  DIPLOMATIC   DEFEAT.  633 

sia  is  our  firm  ally  ;  and  Austria,  by  sending  her  emperor  himself, 
has  given  the  most  flattering  proof  of  her  consideration  for  Russia. 
It  would  appear  that  we  enter  upon  an  epoch  of  universal  concord." 

"  And  to  give  stability  to  this  great  blessing, ''  replied  Von  Gortz, 
"  it  is  the  duty  of  all  sovereigns  to  fuse  their  separate  interests  into 
one  great  alliance,  whose  watchword  shall  be  'Peace  !'  In  presence 
of  those  who  are  bound  together  by  the  tie  of  one  common  policy, 
no  ambitious  enemy  will  venture  to  disturb  the  great  international 
rest." 

"  I  think  we  are  already  able  to  present  the  scarecrow  of  such  an 
alliance  to  covetous  princes,  for  we  have  a  firm  ally  in  Prussia,  have 
we  not?"  said  Catharine,  smiling. 

"  Our  treaty  was  but  for  eight  years,  your  majesty, "  interposed 
Panin,  "  and  the  eight  years  have  expired. " 

"Have  they,  indeed?"  exclaimed  Catharine,  surprised.  "Well — 
certainly  years  do  fly,  and  before  w^e  have  time  to  think  of  death, 
our  graves  open  to  receive  us.  I  feel  that  I  am  growing  old,  and  the 
King  of  Prussia  would  be  wise  if  he  were  to  direct  his  new  negoti- 
ations toward  mj'  successor,  and  make  him  the  partner  of  his  mag- 
nanimous schemes  for  universal  peace." 

"  Your  majesty  is  pleased  to  jest, "  said  Von  Gortz,  reverentially. 
"  But  to  show  you  how  heartily  my  sovereign  desires  to  cement  his 
friendship  with  the  mighty  Empress  of  Russia,  I  am  empowered  by 
him  to  make  new  proposals  for  a  renewal  of  the  eight  years'  treaty. " 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  these  i^roposals,  Panin?"  asked 
Catharine. 

"  No,  your  majesty.  I  only  know  from  Count  von  Gortz  that  his 
proposals  are  merely  preliminary,  and  not  until  they  obtain  your 
majesty's  approbation,  will  the  king  present  them  formally." 

"Very  well,  count,  let  us  hear  your  lu-elimiuaries, "  said  Cath- 
arine. 

"  My  sovereign  desires  nothing  so  much  as  a  permanent  alliance 
with  Russia,  which  shall  give  peace  to  Europe,  and  deter  over- 
ambitious  princes  from  trenching  upon  the  possessions  of  other 
crowns.  To  secure  this  end,  my  sovereign  thinks  that  nothing 
would  be  so  favorable  as  an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance,  with  a 
guaranty  of  permanent  boundary-lines  between  Russia,  Prussia, 
Poland,  and  Turkey.  Such  an  alliance,  in  the  opinion  of  my  sover- 
eign, would  give  durable  peace  to  Western  Europe.  If  tlae  con- 
ditions be  acceptable  to  your  majesty,  my  sovereign  will  make  like 
propositions  to  Poland  and  Turkey,  and  the  treaty  can  be  signed 
at  once ;  for  it  has  been  ascertained  that  France  approves,  and  as 
for  Austria,  the  very  nature  of  the  alliance  and  its  strength  will 
force  her  to  respect  the  rights  of  nations,  and  give  up  her  pretensions 
to  ten-itorial  aggrandizement." 

The  czarina  liad  listened  to  this  harangue  with  growing  dis^ileas- 
ure.  Her  impatience  had  not  escaped  the  e.yesof  Panin,  and  he  saw 
tliat  the  scheme  would  be  unsuccessful.  He  had  promised  to  second 
the  proposals  of  the  Prussian  minister,  but  the  stormy  brow  of  the 
empress  was  mightier  than  his  promise,  and  he  boldly  determined  to 
change  his  front. 

When  Count  von  Gortz  ceased,  a  silence  ensued  ;  for  the  czarina 
was  too  incensed  to  speak.  She  looked  first  at  the  Prussian  ambas- 
sador, and  then  at  her  minister  of  foreign  affairs,  who  was  turning 
over  in  his  mind  what  he  should  sav. 


534  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"And  these  are  the  proposals  of  the  King  of  Prussia?"  cried  she, 
■when  she  found  breath  to  vent  her  indignation.  "Instead  of  a 
simple  renewal  of  our  mutual  obligations,  you  wish  to  entangle  us 
into  alliances  with  Turkey  !  Count  Panin,  you  are  my  minister.  I 
therefore  leave  it  to  you  to  answer  the  Prussian  ambassador  as  be- 
seems the  dignity  and  interest  of  my  crown. " 

She  leaned  back  in  her  arm-chair,  and  bent  a  piercing  glance 
upon  the  face  of  her  minister.  But  he  bore  the  test  without  change 
of  feature,  and  turning  with  perfect  composure  to  his  ex-confederate, 
lie  said : 

"  As  my  sovereign  has  commanded  me  to  deliver  her  reply,  I  must 
expi'ess  my  surprise  at  the  extraordinary  preliminaries  presented  by 
your  excellency.  His  majesty  of  Prussia  proposes  an  alliance  of 
Russia  with  Turkey.  The  thing  is  so  i^reposterous  that  I  cannot 
conceive  how  so  wise  a  prince  as  your  sovereign  could  ever  have 
entertained  the  idea !"  * 

"  Good,  Panin  !"  said  Catharine,  nodding  her  head. 

Panin,  encouraged  by  the  applause,  went  on:  ''Peace  between 
Russia  and  Turkey  can  never  be  any  thing  but  an  armistice ;  an 
alliance  with  the  Porte,  therefore,  is  incompatible  either  with  our 
policy  or  with  the  sentiments  of  my  revered  sovereign. "  f 

"In  this  case,"  replied  Von  Gortz,  bowing,  "my  sovereign  with- 
draws the  proposal  which  was  merely  thrown  out  as  an  idea  upon 
which  he  was  desirous  of  ^learing  the  opinion  of  his  august  ally,  the 
empress. " 

"  Then  you  know  my  opinion  upon  this  '  idea, '  "  cried  Catharine, 
rising  from  hta"  seat,  and  darting  fiery  glances  at  the  ambassador. 
"  Count  Panin  has  expressed  it  distinctly,  and  I  desire  you  to  repeat 
his  words  to  the  King  of  Prussia.  And  that  the  great  Frederick 
may  see  that  I  make  no  secret  of  my  policy,  he  shall  hear  it.  Know, 
then,  that  my  last  treaty  of  peace  with  Turkey  was  but  a  hollow 
truce,  whereby  I  hoped  to  gain  time  and  strength  to  carry  out  the 
plans  which  I  shall  never  abandon  while  I  live.  The  king  has 
guessed  them,  and  therefore  he  has  sent  me  these  unworthy  propo- 
sals. Russia  has  not  reached  the  limit  of  her  boundaries ;  her 
ambition  is  co-extensive  with  the  world,  and  slie  means  to  grow  and 
prosper,  nor  yet  be  content  when  Poland  bows  her  neck  to  the  yoke, 
and  the  crescent  lias  given  place  to  the  Greek  cross  !" 

So  saying,  the  czarina  bowed  her  head,  and  haughtily  left  the 
room.  When  she  raised  the  juviiere,  there  sat  Potemkin  in  the 
fulness  of  his  satisfaction,  ready  to  greet  her  with  his  most  beaming 
smiles.  Catharine  motioned  him  to  follow,  and  tiiey  returned  to 
the  cabinet.  Once  there,  the  czarina  threw  herself  upon  the  divan 
and  sighed  : 

"Sliut  the  door,  Potemkin,  close  the  iJortiere,  for  in  good  sooth  I 
know  not  whether  I  am  about  to  laugl)  or  cry.  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
been  liearing  a  fable  in  which  all  my  schemes  were  transformed  into 
card  liouses,  and  were  blown  a\\ay  by  the  wind  I  But  indeed  I  must 
laugh !  The  good  King  of  Prussiji !  Only  think,  Gregory,  an 
offensive  and  defensive  alliance  with  Turkey.  Is  it  not  enough  to 
make  you  laugli  until  you  cry?" 

"  I  cannot  laugh  at  such  a  disregard  for  the  sacred  rights  of  man, " 
replied  Potemkin.     "Tliis  proposal  of  Prussia  is  an  outrage  to  tlie 

*Panin's  own  words.     "Pohni's  Memoirs,"  vol.  i..  pp.  4(X),  401. 
t  Panin's  owu  words.     "  Dohm's  ]Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  pp.  400,  401. 


THE  CZARINA  AND  THE  KAISER.  535 

faith  of  the  whole  Russian  nation,  and  a  challenge  to  you,  my  noble 
sovereign,  whose  bold  hand  is  destined  to  tear  down  the  symbol  of 
the  Moslem,  and  replace  it  with  that  of  the  Christian  !" 

"  And  believe  me,  dearest  friend,  I  am  ever  mindful  of  that  des- 
tiny, "  replied  Catharine. 

"  And  the  treaty  between  Russia  and  Prussia — " 

"  Will  not  be  renewed. " 

"Check  to  the  king,  then,"  cried  Potemkin,  "and  checkmate  will 
soon  follow. " 

"Yes,  the  king  is  old,  and  would  gladly  end  his  days  in  a  myrtle- 
grove  ;  while  I  long  to  continue  my  flight,  higher  and  higher,  till  1 
reach  the  sun.  But  who  will  go  with  me  to  these  dizzy  heights  of 
power — " 

"  His  majesty,  the  Emperor  of  Austria, "  said  the  loud  voice  of  a 
gentleman  in  waiting,  who  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  cabinet. 

"The  emperor!"  exclaimed  Catharine.  "You  know  I  granted 
his  request  to  come  to  me  unannounced  ;  but  I  have  given  orders  to 
the  sentries  to  send  the  word  forward,  nevertheless,  so  tliat  I  always 
know  when  he  is  about  to  appear. " 

"Farewell,  Catharine,"  said  Potemkin.  "The  crow  must  give 
place  to  the  imperial  falcon.  Why  am  I  not  an  emperor,  to  offer 
you  my  hand,  and  be  your  only  protector?" 

"  Could  I  love  you  more  if  you  were  an  emperor,  Gregory  ?  But, 
hush !  He  comes,  and  as  soon  as  his  visit  is  ended,  return  to  me, 
for  I  must  see  you. " 

Potemkin  kissed  her  hand  again  and  again,  and  vanished  through 
the  tapestrj"  by  a  secret  door,  which  led  to  a  small  corridor  connected 
with  the  czarina's  private  apartments.  But  instead  of  crossing  this 
corridor,  he  turned  into  a  little  boudoir,  through  which  the  emperor 
would  have  to  pass  and  there  awaited  his  appearance.  He  came, 
and  seeing  Potemkin,  looked  surprised,  but  bowed  with  a  gracious 
smile. 

Potemkin  laid  his  finger  upon  his  lip,  and  pointed  to  the  cabinet. 
"Sire,"  said  he  in  a  whisper,  "I  have  anticipated  you.  Prussia  has 
received  an  important  check,  and  the  treaty  will  not  be  renewed. 
It  rests  with  your  majesty  now,  to  improve  the  opportunity  and 
supplant  the  King  of  Prussia.  Be  sympathetic  and  genial  with  the 
czarina — above  all  thhigs  flatter  her  ambition,  and  the  game  is  yours. 
Depend  vipon  my  hearty  co-operation. " 

"A  thousand  thanks, "  whispered  Joseph  in  return.  Potemkin 
made  a  deep  and  respectful  salutation,  and  left  the  room.  As  he 
closed  the  door  noiselessly  behind  him,  the  emperor  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  imperial  cabinet. 


CHAPTER    CXXXIX. 

THE     CZARINA      AND      THE      KAISER. 

When  Joseph  entered,  he  found  the  emiwess  reclining  with  care- 
less grace  upon  the  divan,  perfectly  unconscious  that  he  was  any- 
where within  her  palace  walls.  But  when  she  saw  him,  she  sprang 
up  from  the  cushion  on  which  she  lay,  and,  with  protestations  of 
delighted  surprise,  gave  him  both  lier  hands.  He  bent  over  those 
soft  white  hands,  and  kissed  them  fervently. 

85 


536  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  I  come  to  your  majesty  because  I  am  anxious  and  unhappy,  and 
my  heart  yearned  for  your  presence.  I  have  bad  news  from  Vienna. 
My  mother  is  ill,  and  implores  me  to  return  home. " 

"Bad  news,  indeed!"  exclaimed  Catharine,  sadly.  "The  noblest 
and  greatest  woman  that  ever  adorned  a  throne  is  suffering,  and  you 
threaten  to  leave  me?  But  you  must  not  go,  now  that  the  barriers 
which  ha^'e  so  long  divided  Austria  from  Russia  have  fallen. " 

"  Your  majesty  may  well  speak  of  barriers, "  laughed  Joseph,  "  for 
we  were  parted  by  a  high  Spanish  wall,  and  the  King  of  Prussia 
walked  the  ramparts,  that  we  might  never  get  a  glimpse  at  each 
other.  Well  !  I  have  leaped  the  walls,  and  I  consider  it  the  brightest 
act  of  my  life  that  I  should  have  journeyed  thither  to  see  the  greatest 
sovereign  of  the  age,  the  woman  before  whom  a  world  is  destined  to 
succumb. " 

"Do  not  give  me  such  praise,  sire,"  replied  Catharine,  with 
a  sigh  ;  "the  son  of  Maria  Theresa  should  not  bestow  such  eulogium 
upon  me.  It  is  the  Empress  of  Austria  who  unites  the  wisdom  of  a 
lawgiver  and  the  bravery  of  a  warrior  with  the  virtues  of  a  ijure  and 
sinless  woman  !  Oh,  my  friend,  I  am  not  of  that  privileged  band 
who  have  preserved  themselves  spotless  from  tlie  sins  of  the  world  ! 
I  have  bought  my  imperial  destiny  with  the  priceless  gem  of 
womanly  innocence  !— Do  not  interiiipt  me — we  are  alone,  and  I  feel 
that  before  no  human  being  can  I  bow  my  guilty  head  with  such  a 
sense  of  just  humiliation  as  before  the  son  of  the  peerless  Empress  of 
Austria !" 

"The  Empress  of  Austria  is  still  a  woman,  reigning  through  the 
promptings  of  her  heart,  vrhile  Catharine  wears  lier  crown  with  the 
vigor  of  a  man.  And  who  ever  tliought  of  recpiiring  from  an  em- 
peror the  primeval  innocence  of  an  Arcadian  shepherdess?  Pie  who 
would  be  great  must  make  acquaintance  with  sin  ;  for  obscurity  is 
the  condition  of  innocence.  Had  j'ou  remained  innocent,  you  had 
never  become  Catharine  the  Great.  There  are,  unhappily,  so  many 
men  who  resemble  women,  that  we  must  render  thanks  to  God  for 
vouchsafing  to  our  age  a  woman  who  equals  all,  and  surpasses  many 
men. " 

"  You  have  initiated  a  new  mode  of  flattery,  sire, "  said  Catha- 
rine, blushing  with  gratification;  "but  if  this  is  your  fashion  of 
praising  women,  you  must  be  a  woman-hater.     Is  it  so?" 

"I  would  worshiji  them  if  they  resembled  Catharine  ;  but  I  have 
suffered  through  their  failings,  and  I  despise  them.  You  know  not 
how  many  of  my  bold  schemes  and  bright  hopes  have  been  brought 
to  naught  by  women  !  I  am  no  longer  the  Joseph  of  earlier  days — I 
have  been  shorn  of  my  strengtli  by  petticoats  and  cassocks." 

"Ii(nvcan  you  so  belie  yourself?"  said  Catharine.  "It  is  but  a 
few  months  since  we  had  good  proof  that  tlie  ambition  of  the  Em- 
peror Joseph  wr.s  far  from  being  quenched  forever.  " 

"Ah!  }-our  majesty  would  remind  me  of  that  ridiculous  affair 
with  Bavaria.  It  was  my  last  Quixotism,  the  dying  struggle  of  a 
patriotism  wliich  would  liave  made  of  Germnny  one  powerful  and 
l^rosperous  nation  !  And  it  wns  you  who  opposed  we— you  who,  of 
all  the  potentates  in  Euiope,  are  the  one  who  sliould  have  understood 
and  sustained  me  !  Believe  me,  when  I  say,  that  had  Catharine  be- 
friended me  there,  she  would  have  won  the  truest  knight  that  ever 
broke  a  lance  in  defence  of  fair  ladye.  But,  for  the  sake  of  a 
dotard,  who  is  forever  tremblinj.,  lest  I  rob  him  of  some  of  his  with- 


THE  CZAEINA  AND  THE  KAISER.  537 

ered  bays,  the  bold  Athene  of  the  age  forgot  her  godlike  origin  and 
mission,  and  turned  away  froni  him  whom  she  should  have  counte- 
nanced and  conciliated.  Well !  It  was  the  error  of  a  noble  heart, 
unsuspicious  of  fair  words.  And  fair  words  enough  had  Frederick 
for  the  occasion.  To  think  of  such  a  man  as  he,  flaunting  the  ban- 
ner of  Germany  in  my  face — he  who,  not  many  years  ago,  was  under 
the  ban  of  the  empire  as  an  ambitious  upstart !  He  thought  to  scare 
me  with  the  rustling  of  his  dead  laurel -leaves,  and  when  he  found 
that  I  laughed  at  such  Chinese  warfare,  lo  !  he  ran  and  hid  himself 
under  my  mother's  petticoats  ;  and  the  two  old  crowns  fell  foul  of 
one  another,  and  their  palsied  old  wearers  plotted  together,  until 
the  great  war  upon  which  I  had  staked  my  fame  was  juggled  into  a 
shower  of  carnival  confetti!  Oh,  you  laugh  at  me,  and  well  may 
you  laugh  !  I  am  a  fool  to  waste  so  much  enthusiasm  upon  such  a 
fool's  holiday  !" 

"  No,  I  do  not  laugh  at  you, "  replied  Catharine,  laying  her  arm 
upon  his.  "  I  laugh  for  joy,  to  see  how  lustily  you  hate.  A  man 
who  hates  fierceh*,  loves  ardently,  and  my  whole  heart  glows  with 
sympathy  for  sucli  a  being.  So,  then,  you  hate  him  soundly,  this 
King  of  Prussia?" 

"Hate  him,"  cried  Joseph,  clinching  his  hand,  "ay,  indeed,  I 
hate  him  !  He  has  instigated  Germany  to  oppose  me  ;  he  wrested 
Bavaria  from  me,  which  was  mine  by  right  of  twofold  inheritance  ; 
and  I  destest  him  the  more  that  he  is  so  old,  so  gouty,  and  so  con- 
temptible, that  to  defeat  him  now  would  not  add  one  hair's  breadth 
to  my  reputation  as  a  general. " 

"It  is  true,"  said  Catharine,  thoughtfully,  "Frederick  is  growing 
very  old.  Nothing  remains  of  the  former  hero  but  a  dotard,  who  is 
incapable  of  comprehendng  the  march  of  events — " 

"And,  yet,  is  ambitious  to  legislate.  Oh,  Catharine,  beware  of 
this  old  king,  who  clings  to  you  to  support  his  own  tottering  royalty, 
and  to  obsti'uct  your  schemes  of  conquest.  But  he  will  not  succeed 
with  you  as  he  has  done  by  me.  You  have  no  mother  to  thrust  you 
aside,  while  she  barters  away  your  rights  for  a  mess  of  pottage  !  I 
see  your  eagle  glance — it  turns  toward  the  south,  where  roll  the 
stormy  waves  of  the  Black  Sea !  I  see  this  fair  white  hand  as  it 
points  to  mosques  of  Constantinople,  where  the  crescent  is  being 
lowered  and  the  cross  is  being  planted — " 

Catharine  uttered  a  cry  of  ecstasy,  and  putting  her  arms  around 
Joseph's  neck,  she  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  his  brow. 

"Oh,  I  thank  you,  Joseph!"  exclaimed  she,  enthusiastically. 
"You  have  comprehended  the  ambitious  projects  which,  identified 
as  thej'  are  with  my  existence  as  a  sovereign,  I  never  yet  have  dared 
to  speak  above  my  breath  !" 

"  I  have  guessed  and  I  approve, "  said  Joseph,  earnestly.  "  Fate 
has  assigned  you  a  mission,  and  you  must  fulfil  it." 

"Oh,  my  God  !"  ejaculated  Catharine,  "  I  have  found  a  friend  who 
has  read  my  lieart. " 

"And  who  will  aid  you,  when  you  call  him  to  your  side." 

"I  accept  the  offer,  and  here  is  my  hand.  And  so.  hand  in  hand, 
we  shall  conquer  the  world.  God  be  praised,  there  is  room  enough 
for  us  both,  and  we  will  divide  it  between  us.  Away  with  all  little 
thrones  and  their  little  potentates  !  Oh,  friend,  what  joy  it  must  be 
to  dwell  among  the  heights  of  Olympus,  and  feel  that  all  below  is 
ours  !     I  am  intoxicated  with  the  dream  !     Two  thrones— the  throne 


538  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

of  the  Greek  and  the  throne  of  the  Roman  emperors  ;  two  people  so 
mightj%  that  they  dare  not  war  with  one  another;  while,  side  l\y 
side,  their  giant  swords  forever  sheathed,  they  sdied  peace  and 
happiness  upon  the  farthermost  ends  of  the  earth  !  Will  you  realize 
with  me  this  godlike  dream?" 

"That  will  I,  my  august  friend,  and  may  God  grant  us  life  and 
opportunity  to  march  on  to  victory  together  !" 

"  To  victory, "  echoed  Catharine,  "  and  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  will 
of  Peter  the  Great !  He  enjoined  it  upon  his  sviccessors  to  purge 
Europe  of  the  infidel,  and  to  open  the  Black  Sea  to  Christendom. 
In  Stamboul  1  shall  erect  the  throne  of  my  grandson,  Constantine, 
while  in  Petersburg,  Alexander  extends  the  domains  of  Russia  in 
Europe  and  in  Asia.  You  do  not  know  all  that  I  have  already  done 
for  classic  Greece.  From  his  birth,  I  have  destined  Constantine  to 
the  Greek  throne.  His  nurses,  his  playfellows,  and  his  very  dress 
are  Greek,  so  that  his  native  tongue  is  that  of  his  future  subjects. 
Even  now,  two  hundred  boys  are  on  their  way  from  Greece,  who  are 
to  be  the  future  guards  of  the  Emperor  Constantine  !  As  the  medal 
which  was  struck  on  the  day  of  his  birth  prefigured  his  destiny,  so 
shall  his  surroundings  of  every  kind  animate  him  to  its  glorious 
fulfilment.  Look — I  have  already  a  chart  on  which  Constantine  is 
to  study  the  geography  that  my  hand  is  to  verify  for  him  and  for  his 
brother. " 

The  empress  had  risen  and  approached  her  escritoire.  From 
a  secret  drawer  within  another  drawer  she  took  a  roll  of  parch- 
ment which,  after  beckoning  to  the  emperor,  she  placed  upon 
the  table.  They  unrolled  it,  and  both  bent  over  it  with  beating 
hearts. 

"Observe  first  the  marginal  illustrations,"  said  Catharine. 
"Here  stands  the  genius  of  Russia,  leaning  upon  the  Russian  shield. 
To  the  left  you  see  arrows,  horses'  tails,  Turkish  banners,  and  other 
trophies — here  at  the  top,  you  see  the  Black  Sea,  where  a  Russia'n 
ship  is  in  the  act  of  sinking  a  Turk. 

"Here  in  the  centre,  are  the  empire  of  Greece  and  the  Archi- 
pelago. Take  notice  of  the  colors  on  the  map,  for  they  show  the 
boundaries.  The  yellow  is  the  boundary-line  of  the  Greek  empire. 
It  begins  in  the  northwest  by  Ragusa,  takes  in  Skopia,  Sophia 
Phillippolis  and  Adrianople  as  far  as  the  Black  Sea.  It  then  de- 
scends and  includes  the  Ionian  islands,  the  Archipelago,  Mitylene, 
and  Samos.  That  is  the  empire  of  Constantine,  whose  capital  is  to 
be  Constantinople.  The  red  lines  show  the  future  boundaries  of 
Russia.  They  pass  through  Natolia,  beginning  in  the  north  by  Pen- 
davaschi,  and  end  with  the  Gulf  of  Syria. " 

The  emperor,  who  had  been  following  Catharine's  jewelled  hand 
with  anxious  scrutiny,  now  looked  up  with  a  significant  smile. 

"Your  majesty's  map  reminds  me  of  an  incident  among  my 
travels.  In  the  beginning  orf  my  unhappy  regency,  I  was  inspecting 
the  boundaries  of  my  own  empire.  In  Moravia  I  ascended  a  steep 
mountain  whence  I  had  a  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  'To 
whom  belongs  the  pretty  village?'  said  I.  'To  the  Jesuits, '  was  the 
reply.  'And  this  tract  with  the  chapels?'  'To  the  Benedictines.' 
'  And  that  abbey  ?'  '  To  the  Clarissarines. '  '  But  where  then  are  my 
possessions?'  said  I." 

"  And  your  majesty  would  put  the  same  question  to  me, "  inter- 
rupted the  czarina.     "Look  at  the  colors  of  the  map.      We  have 


THE  CZARINA  AND  THE  KAISER.  539 

appropriated  the  yellow  and  the  red,  but  there  is  another  color  to  be 
accounted  for." 

"  I  see  a  boundary  of  green,  which  includes  Naples  and  Sicily, " 
said  Joseph,  looking  down  upon  the  map  with  new  interest. 

"  Those  are  the  boundary-lines  of  new  Austria, "  said  the  empress, 
with  a  triumphant  smile.  "  As  I  hope  for  the  reestablishment  of 
empire  in  Greece,  so  must  your  majesty  accomplish  that  of  Rome. 
Since  you  have  no  objection  to  give  me  the  Black  Sea,  I  shall  make 
no  opposition  to  the  extension  of  your  empire  to  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Italy,  like  Germany,  is  a  prey  to  petty  princes. 
Rescue  the  Italians  from  their  national  insignificance,  sire,  and 
throw  the  ffigis  of  your  protection  over  the  site  of  the  old  Roman 
empire.  Do  you  not  bear  the  title  of  King  of  Rome?  Give  to  that 
title,  meaning  and  substance.  Yours  is  the  south  and  west,  mine  is 
the  east,  and  together  we  shall  govern  the  world." 

Joseph  had  listened  with  breathless  attention.  At  first  he  grew 
pale,  then  a  flush  of  triumph  suffused  his  face,  and  he  took  the  hand 
of  the  czarina  and  drew  it  to  his  heart. 

"Catharine!"  cried  he,  deeply  moved,  "from  my  soul  I  thank 
you  for  this  inspiration  !  Oh,  my  heart's  interpreter,  you  have  read 
my  secret  yearnings  to  be  in  deed,  as  well  as  in  word,  'King  of 
Rome  !'  Yes — I  would  free  Italy  from  the  oppression  of  the  church, 
and  lead  her  on  to  greatness  that  shall  rival  her  glorious  past !  God 
is  my  witness,  I  would  have  done  as  much  for  Germany  ;  but  Ger- 
many has  rejected  me,  and  I  leave  her  to  her  fate.  For  the  future  I 
remain  Emperor  of  Austi-ia  ;  and  my  empire  shall  be  so  vast,  so 
prosperous,  and  so  powerful,  that  Catharine  of  Russia  shall  esteem 
me  an  ally  worthy  of  the  greatest  woman  of  modern  times. " 

"  Two  faithful  allies,  "  exclaimed  Catliarine — "  allies  bound  b\'  one 
common  policy,  whose  watchword  shall  be  'Constantinople  and 
Rome!'  " 

" Ay, "  returned  Joseph,  with  a  laugh,  "though  while  yon  raise 
the  standard  of  the  cross  in  Constantinople.  /  shall  overturn  it  in 
Rome.     As  soon  as  my  shackles  fall,  I  shall  set  to  work  !" 

"I  see  that  you  have  faith  in  my  plans,"  cried  Catharine,  joy- 
fully. 

"Such  faith  that  I  would  aid  them  from  my  heart,  were  they 
even  to  require  the  cooperation  of  Frederick."  * 

"  I  shall  have  no  cooperation  but  yours, "  was  the  reply.  "  Be- 
sides, I  know  that  you  owe  a  grudge  to  Turkey. " 

"  I  do ;  for  she  has  taken  Belgrade,  and  I  must  retake  it.  The 
Danube  is  my  birthright,  as  the  Black  Sea  is  yours.  I  give  up  Ger- 
many, to  concentrate  my  forces  upon  Turkey  and  Italy. " 

"Let  us  await  the  proper  time,  and  when  I  see  it,  I  shall  call 
upon  you  to  come  with  me  and  crush  the  intrusive  Moslem." 

"Look  upon  me  as  yovir  general,  and  upon  my  army  as  yours," 
replied  Joseph,  kissing  the  hand  which  the  czarina  extended. 
"And  now,"  continued  he,  "I  must  say  farewell,  and  I  fear  it  is  for 
a  long  separation. " 

"Indeed  !"  cried  Catharine.     "Must  I  lose  you  so  soon?" 

"My  mother  is  sick,  and  yearns  for  my  presence,"  said  Joseph. 

"The  emperor  parted  from  her  in  displeasure  ;  but  the  son  must  not 

slight  the  call  of  a  mother,  who  perchance  is  on  her  death-bed.     I 

start  for  Vienna  to-day  ;   and  before  I  leave,  at  the  risk  of  being  ac- 

*Raumer.    Contributions,  etc.,  vol.  v.,  p.  444. 


540  JOSEPH   II.  AND   HIS   COURT. 

cused  of  flatteiy,  I  must  express  to  your  majesty  the  admiration, 
respect  and  love  which  I  feel  for  the  noblest  woman  I  have  ever 
known. "  * 

The  empress,  overcome,  put  her  arms  around  Joseph's  neck,  and 
folded  him  to  her  heart. 

"  Oh,  were  you  my  son  !"  whispered  she,  "I  might  thank  Heaven 
for  the  gift  of  a  noble  child  who  was  soul  of  my  soul !  Were  you 
mine,  I  "should  not  be  the  victim  of  courtiers'  intrigues,  but  with 
my  proud  arm  within  yours,  I  might  defy  the  world. " 

As  she  spoke  these  words,  Catharine  raised  the  emperor's  hand 
to  her  lips. 

Joseph  uttered  a  cry,  and  sinking  on  his  knees,  kissed  the  hem 
of  her  robe.  Then  rising,  as  if  reluctant  to  break  the  solemnity  of 
tlieir  parting  by  a  sound,  he  turned  and  left  the  room. 

Catharine  looked  after  him  with  tearful  eyes.  "O  God,  he  has 
left  me  !  I  have  found  a  noble  heart,  only  to  grieve  that  it  can  never 
be  mine.     I  am  alone,  alone  !     It  is  so  dreadful  to  be — " 

Suddenly  she  ceased,  for  a  deep,  melodious  voice  began  to  sing. 
Catharine  knew  that  the  voice  was  Potemkin's,  and  that  he  was 
calling  her  to  the  secret  apartments  which  she  had  fitted  up  for  her 
lover. 

The  song  awakened  bitter  memories.  Potemkin  had  written  it 
in  former  years,  and  she  had  shed  tears  of  emotion  when  she  lieard 
it — tears  which  at  that  time  were  as  precious  to  him  as  were  liis 
finest  diamonds  to-day. 

The  music  ceased,  and  two  tears  which  had  gathered  in  the 
czarina's  eyes  stole  down  her  cheeks.  As  if  drawn  by  an  invisible 
hand,  she  crossed  the  room,  and,  stooping  down,  pressed  a  tiny 
golden  button  wliich  was  fastened  to  the  floor.  A  whirr  was  heard, 
the  floor  opened  and  revealed  a  winding  staircase  which  led  from 
her  cabinet  to  the  room  of  her  favorite. 

As  her  foot  touched  the  first  step,  she  raised  her  eyes  with  a  look 
of  despair  to  heaven,  and  her  trembling  lips  murmured  these  words, 
"Catharine  once  more  in  chains  !" 

*  The  emperor's  own  words.    Raumer,  vol.  v.,  p.  553. 


THE  EEIGN  OF  JOSEPH. 


CHAPTER    CXL. 

THE  OATH. 

Maria  Theresa  was  no  more.  On  the  29th  day  of  November,  of 
the  year  1780,  she  went  to  rejoin  her  much-loved  "Franz"— him  to 
whom  her  last  words  on  earth  were  addressed.  In  her  dying  mo- 
ments, her  pale  countenance  illuminated  by  joy,  the  empress  would 
have  arisen  from  the  arm-chair  in  which  she  sat  awaiting  her  re- 
lease. The  emperor,  who  had  devoted  himself  to  her  with  all  the 
tenderness  of  which  his  nature  was  capable,  held  her  back. 
"  Whither  would  your  majesty  go?"  asked  he,  terrified. 

Maria  Theresa  opened  her  arms,  exclaiming,  "To  thee,  to  thee,  I 
come  !"  Her  head  fell  back,  and  her  dying  lips  were  parted  once 
more.  Her  son  bent  his  head  to  catch  the  fluttering  words,  "  Franz, 
my  Franz — " 

Maria  Theresa  was  no  more  !  The  tolling  of  bells,  and  th.e  roll  of 
the  muffled  drum,  announced  to  Vienna  that  the  body  of  tlieir  be- 
loved empress  was  being  laid  in  the  vault  of  the  Capuchins,  and  that 
after  so  many  years  of  parting,  she  rested  once  more  by  the  side  of 
the  emperor. 

The  iron  doors  of  the  crypts  were  closed,  and  the  thousands  and 
tens  of  thousands  who  had  followed  the  empress  to  her  grave,  had 
returned  to  their  saddened  homes.  The  emperor,  too,  followed  by 
his  confidants  Lacy  and  Rosenberg,  had  retired  to  his  cabinet.  His 
face  was  inexpi-essiblj  sad,  and  he  paced  his  room  with  folded  arms, 
utterly  forgetful  of  his  friends,  whom  nevertheless  he  had  requested 
to  follow  him,  and  who,  both  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  were 
silently  awaiting  the  awakening  of  the  emperor  from  his  dumb  grief. 

At  last  he  remembered  their  presence.  Directing  his  steps 
toward  the  window  he  stood  before  them,  and  looked  anxiously  first 
at  one,  then  at  the  other. 

"Was  I  an  undutiful  son?"  asked  he,  in  a  faltering  voice.  "I 
implore  you,  my  friends,  make  me  no  courtier" s  reply,  but  speak  the 
plain,  unvarnished  truth,  and  tell  me  whether  I  was  an  imgrateful 
son  to  my  noble  mother.  Lacy,  by  the  memory  of  your  own  mother, 
be  honest. " 

"By  the  memory  of  my  mother,  sire,"  said  Lacy,  solemnly, 
"no!  'You  bore  the  burden  of  your  filial  duty  with  exemplary 
patience,  and  bowed  your  will  to  the  will  of  your  mother,  even  when 
you  knew  that  she  erred  in  judgment." 

"And  you,  Rosenberg?"  asked  Joseph,  with  a  sad  smile. 

"My  opinion,  sire,  is  that  you  were  a  noble,  all-enduring  son, 
whose  heart  was  not  hardened  against  his  mother,  althovigh  from 
your  childhood  it  had  provocation  to  become  so.     Your  majesty  bore 


543  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

with  more  than  any  other  man  would  have  done  whose  lips  had  not 
been  locked  by  filial  tenderness. " 

"I  was  silent  but  resentful,"  said  Joseph,  mournfully.  "I  bore 
my  burdens  ungraciously,  aud  Maria  Theresa  was  aware  of  it.  I 
have  often  been  angered  by  her,  but  she  has  often  wept  for  my  sake. 
Oh,  those  tears  disturb  my  conscience. " 

"Your  majesty  should  remember  that  the  empress  forgave  and 
forgot  all  the  dissensions  of  by-gone  years,  and  that  in  her  last  ill- 
ness she  expressed  herself  supremely  happy  in  your  majesty's  caj-e 
and  tenderness." 

"You  should  remember  also,  that  with  the  sagacity  which  is 
often  vouchsafed  to  the  dying,  Maria  Theresa  confessed  that  she 
had  vmwillingly  darkened  your  majesty's  life  by  her  exactions,  and 
in  the  magnanimity  of  her  regret  asked  your  forgiveness. " 

"  I  have  said  all  this  to  myself, "  replied  Joseph,  "  I  have  repeated 
it  over  and  over  in  these  wretched,  sleepless  nights ;  but  still  the 
dagger  of  remorse  is  in  my  heart,  and  now  I  would  gladly  give  years 
of  my  life,  if  my  mother  were  living,  that  I  might  redeem  the  past 
by  cheerfvil  submission  to  her  every  wish." 

"Let  the  great  empress  rest  in  peace!"  exclaimed  Lacy.  "She 
was  weary  of  life,  and  died  with  more  than  willingness.  Your 
majesty  must  cherish  yoiLV  life,  mindful  of  the  vast  inheritance 
which  your  mother  has  left  you. " 

"You  are  right,  Lacy,"  cried  Joseph,  warmly.  "It  is  a  noble 
inheritance,  and  I  swear  to  you  both  to  cherish  it,  not  for  my  own 
sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  millions  of  human  beings  of  whose 
destinies  I  shall  be  the  arbiter.  I  swear  to  be  a  good  sovereign  to 
my  people.  By  the  tears  which  my  mother  has  shed  for  me,  I  will 
dry  the  tears  of  the  unfortunate,  and  the  blessing  she  left  me  with 
her  dying  breath,  I  shall  bestow  upon  the  Austrians  whom  she  loved 
so  well.  If  I  should  ever  forget  this  vow,  you  are  here  to  remind  me 
of  it.  And  now  that  my  reign  begins,  I  exact  of  you  both  a  proof 
of  your  loyalty. " 

"Speak,  sire,"  said  Lacy,  with  a  bright  aud  affectionate  smile. 
"Put  me  to  the  test,"  cried  Rosenberg,  "and  I  shall  not  flinch." 
The  emperor  laid  his  hands  upon  the  shoulders  of  his  friends,  and 
looked  at  them  with  unmistakable  affection.  "  Happy  is  the  man 
who  possesses  two  such  friends.  But  hear  what  I  exact  of  you.  I 
stand  upon  the  threshold  of  a  new  order  of  things.  I  am  at  last  an 
emperor,  free  to  carry  out  the  designs  which  for  so  many  long  years 
I  have  been  forced  to"  stifle  in  my  sorrowing  heart.  I  am  resolved  to 
enlighten  and  to  elevate  my  subjects.  But  if  in  my  zeal  to  do  well, 
I  sliould  lack  discretion,  it  is  for  you  to  check  and  warn  me.  And 
if  I  heed  not  your  warnings,  you  shall  persist,  even  if  your  persist- 
ence becomes  offensive.  Will  you  promise  me  to  do  so,  dear 
friends?" 

"We  promise,"  said  both  with  one  breath. 

"God  and  the  emperor  have  heard  the  promise.  Give  me  your 
honest  hands,  my  best  and  truest  friends.  You,  at  least,  I  shall 
never  doubt ;  I  feel  that  your  friendship  will  be  mine  until  the  day 
of  my  death  !" 

"  Your  majesty  is  tlie  youngest  of  us  three, "  said  Lacy,  "  and  you 
speak  as  if  we  would  outlive  you. " 

"  Age  is  not  reckoned  by  vears, "  replied  the  emperor,  wearily, 
"  but  by  wounds  ;  and  if  I  count  the  scars  that  disappointment  has 


PRINCE  KAUNITZ.  543 

left  upon  my  heart,  you  will  find  that  I  have  lived  longer  than 
either  of  you.  Promise,  then,  to  be  with  me  to  the  last,  and  to  close 
my  eyes  for  me. " 

"  Your  wife  and  children  will  do  that  for  you,  sire, "  said  Rosen- 
berg. 

"  I  will  never  marry  again.  My  nephew  Francis  shall  be  my  heir, 
and  I  shall  consider  him  as  my  son.  The  Empress  of  Russia  has 
consented  to  give  hini  her  adopted  daughter  in  marriage,  and  I  trust 
that  Francis  may  be  happier  in  wedlock  than  his  unfortunate  uncle. 
My  lieart  is  no  longer  susceptible  of  love. " 

"And  yet  it  beats  with  such  yearning  love  toward  mankind!" 
exclaimed  Rosenberg. 

"Yes — my  heart  belongs  to  my  people,  and  there  is  nothing  left 
of  it  for  woman.  For  my  subjects  alone  I  shall  live.  Their  souls 
shall  be  free  from  the  shackles  of  the  church,  and  they  shall  no 
longer  be  led  like  children  by  the  hands  of  priests  or  prelates  !  You 
have  tranquillized  my  conscience,  and  I  have  received  your  vow  of 
fidelity  till  death.  With  two  such  mentors  to  advise  me,  I  may 
hope,  at  last,  to  do  something  for  fame  !" 


CHAPTER    CXLI. 

PRINCE  KAUNITZ. 

For  three  days  Prince  Kaunitz  had  not  left  his  cabinet.  No  one 
was  allowed  to  approach  him,  except  the  servant  who  brought  the 
meals,  which  the  prince  sent  awaj'  almost  untouched.  His  house- 
hold were  sorely  troubled  at  this,  for  no  one  had  as  yet  ventured  to 
communicate  the  tidings  of  the  empress's  death.  Still  he  seemed  to 
know  it,  for  precisely  on  the  day  of  her  demise,  Kaunitz  had  retired 
to  his  cabinet,  whence  he  had  not  emerged  since. 

To-day  the  tolling  of  bells  and  the  dull  sound  of  muffled  drums 
had  doubtless  revealed  to  him  that  the  funeral  was  at  hand.  Still 
he  had  questioned  nobod}^  and  sat  in  stupid  silence,  apparently 
unmindful  of  the  tumult  without.  Even  when  the  procession  passed 
his  own  house,  he  remained  rigidly  in  his  chair,  his  large  eyes  glar- 
ing vacantly  at  the  wall  opposite. 

Baron  Binder,  who  had  noiselessly  entered  the  room,  and  had 
been  watching  the  prince,  saw  two  large  tears  rolling  slowly  down 
his  face,  and  the  sight  of  these  tears  emboldened  him  to  approach  the 
solitary  mourner. 

When  he  saw  Binder,  his  lips  quivered  slightly,  but  he  made  no 
other  sign.  Binder  laid  his  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  prince, 
and  felt  a  start. 

"Take  compassion  upon  us  who  love  you,  "said  he,  in  a  low, 
trembling  voice.     "  Tell  us  what  it  is  that  grieves  you,  dear  friend. " 

"Nothing,"  replied  Kaunitz. 

"This  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  ever  known  your  highness  to 
speak  an  untruth,"  cried  Binder,  boldly.  "Something  grieves  you  ; 
if  not — why  those  blanched  cheeks,  those  haggai'd  eyes,  and  the  tears 
that  even  now  are  falling  upon  your  hands?" 

Prince  Kaunitz  moved  uneasily,  and  slowly  turned  his  head. 

"Who  gave  you  the  right  to  criticise  my  behavior?"  asked  he, 
iu  a  freezing  tone  of  displeasure.     "  Does  it  become  such  as  you  to 


5U  JOSEPH  11.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

measure  or  comprehend  the  sufferings  of  a  great  mind?  If  it  pleases 
you  to  parade  your  troubles,  go  out  and  ask  sympathy  of  the  con- 
temptible world,  but  leave  to  me  the  freedom  of  sorrowing  alone ! 
My  grief  is  self-sustaining.  It  needs  no  prop  and  no  consolation. 
Attend  to  your  affairs  of  state,  and  go  hence.  I  wish  no  spies  upon 
my  actions. " 

"Ah!"  said  Binder,  tenderly,  "'tis  not  my  eyes  that  have  acted 
the  spies,  but  my  heart,  and — " 

"Baron  Binder,"  interrupted  Kaunitz,  "you  are  not  under  this 
roof  to  dissect  my  sentiments,  or  to  confide  to  me  your  own  ;  you 
are  here  to  assist  me  as  a  statesman.  Go,  therefore,  and  confine 
your  efforts  to  the  business  of  your  office. " 

Binder  heaved  a  sigh,  and  obeyed.  It  was  useless  to  offer  sym- 
pathy when  it  provoked  such  stinging  resentment. 

The  state  referendarhis  had  scarcely  reached  his  study,  before  the 
folding-doors  of  Prince  Kaunitz's  entrance-rooms  were  flung  wide 
open,  and  the  valet  in  attendance  announced —     . 

"His  majesty  the  emperor." 

A  shudder  was  perceptible  through  the  frame  of  the  prince,  and 
he  clutched  at  the  arms  of  the  chair  in  an  attempt  to  rise. 

"Do  not  rise,"  said  Joseph,  coming  forward;  "I  have  intruded 
myself  upon  you  without  ceremony,  and  you  must  receive  me  in  like 
manner. " 

Kaanitz  sank  back,  and  inclined  his  head.  He  had  not  the  power 
to  make  a  reply.  Joseph  then  motioned  to  the  valet  to  withdraw,  and 
drew  a  chair  to  the  prince's  side. 

Thei'e  was  a  short  silence,  and  the  emperor  began  :  "I  bring  you 
greetings  from  my  mother. " 

Kaunitz  turned  and  gazed  at  the  emperor  with  a  look  of  inde- 
scribable anguish.     "  Her  last  gi'eeting, "  said  he,  almost  inaudibly. 

"You  know  it,  then?  Who  has  been  bold  enough  to  break  this 
sad  intelligence  to  you?" 

"  No  one,  your  majesty.  For  three  days  I  have  received  no  bulle- 
tins.    "When  they  ceased,  I  knew  that — Maria  Theresa  was  no  more. " 

"Since  you  know  it,  then,  my  friend,  I  am  relieved  from  a  pain- 
ful task.  Yes,  I  bring  yovi  the  last  greetings  of  a  sovereign  who 
loved  you  well. " 

A  sigh,  which  was  rather  a  sob,  indicative  of  the  inner  throes 
that  were  racking  the  statesnaan's  whole  being,  burst  from  his  heart. 
His  head  fell  upon  his  breast,  and  his  whole  body  trembled.  Joseph 
comprehended  the  immensity  of  his  grief,  and  made  no  ineffectual 
attempt  to  quell  it. 

"I  know,"  said  he,  "that  you  grieve,  not  only  for  her  children, 
but  for  Austria. " 

"  I  grieve  for  you — I  grieve  for  Austria — and,  oh !  I  grieve  for 
myself, "  murmured  Kaunitz. 

"You  have  been  a  faithful  friend  to  my  mother, "  continued 
Joseph,  "and  the  empress  remembered  it  to  her  latest  hour.  She 
bade  me  remind  you  of  the  day  on  which  you  dedicated  your  life  to 
Austria's  welfare.  She  told  me  to  say  to  you  that  the  departure  of 
your  empress  had  not  released  you.  It  had  increased  your  responsi- 
bilities, and  she  expected  of  you  to  be  to  her  son  what  you  have  e^er 
been  to  her,  a  wise  counsellor  and  a  cherished  friend.  Do  you  ac- 
cept the  charge  and  transfer  the  rich  boon  of  your  services  to  me?" 

The  prince  opened  his  lips,  but  not  a  sound  came  forth.     For  the 


03 


PRINCE  KAUNITZ.  545 

second  time  an  expression  of  agony  fluttered  over  his  face,  and  no 
longer  able  to  control  his  feelings,  he  burst  into  tears.  The  sight  so 
moved  the  emperor,  that  he,  too,  shed  tears  abundantly. 

Kaunitz  gradually  recovered  himself.  With  an  impatient  move- 
ment he  dashed  away  the  last  tears  that  had  gathered  in  his  eyes, 
and  dried  his  moist  cheeks  with  his  delicate  cambric  handkerchief. 
He  was  himself  again. 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  said  he,  respectfully  inclining  his 
head.  "  You  see  how  grief  has  mastered  me.  I  have  behaved  like 
a  child  who  is  learning  his  first  difiicult  lesson  of  self-control. 
Forgive  this  momentary  weakness,  and  I  promise  that  you  shall 
never  see  me  so  overwhelmed  as  long  as  I  live. " 

The  emperor,  with  an  affectionate  smile,  pressed  the  old  states- 
man's hand.  "I  have  nothing  to  forgive,  dear  prince.  I  have  to 
thank  you  for  permitting  me  to  view  the  penetralia  of  a  great  man's 
heart. "  And  still  more  have  I  to  thank  you  for  the  sincerity  with 
which  you  have  loved  Maria  Theresa .  I  accept  it  as  a  pledge  of  your 
obe<lience  to  her  last  wishes.     May  I  not?" 

Kaunitz  looked  up,  and  answered  with  firmness,  "  Sire,  this  is 
the  hour  of  unreserve,  and  I  will  speak  the  luivarnished  truth.  I 
liave  been  expecting  the  last  greeting  of  my  empress,  and  had  I  not 
received  her  command  to  serve  your  majesty,  I  should  Iiave  known 
tliat  A^istria  had  need  of  me  no  more,  and  ere  long  I  would  have  fol- 
lowed mv  peerless  mistress  to  the  grave. " 

"  How  !  you  would  have  laid  violent  hands  upon  yoi^r  life?" 

"  Oh,  no,  sire — I  would  simply  have  starved  to  death  ;  for  I  never 
could  have  tasted  food  again,  had  I  once  obtained  tlie  conviction 
that  I  had  become  superannuated  and  useless.  Your  majesty  has 
saved  my  life,  for  I  have  eaten  nothing  since  she — went :  and,  now, 
since  I  must  still  live  for  Austria,  let  me  implore  you  to  forget  what 
you  have  seen  of  me  to-day.  If  I  have  ever  served  Austria,  it  has 
been  in  virtue  of  the  mask  which  I  have  always  worn  over  my  heart 
and  features.  Let  me  resume  it  then,  to  wear  it  for  life.  Had  we 
worn  our  political  mask  a  little  longer,  Frederick  would  not  have 
foiled  us  in  our  Bavarian  projects.  We  must  beware  of  him,  old 
though  he  be,  for  he  is  a  shrewd,  far-seeing  diplomatist. " 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  fear  his  prying  propensities  !"  cried  Joseph.  "  Let 
him  watch  our  proceedings — and  much  good  may  it  do  liim.  He 
will  see  a  new  order  of  things  in  Austria.  Will  you  stand  by  me, 
prince,  and  lend  me  a  helping  hand  until  my  stately  edifice  is 
complete?" 

"Your  edifice,  above  all  things,  will  need  to  be  upon  a  secure 
foundation.  It  must  be  fast  as  a  mountain,  behind  which  we  can 
intrench  ourselves  against  the  stormings  of  the  clergy  and  the 
nobility." 

The  emperor  gave  a  start  of  joyful  surprise.  "  Y^'ou  have  guessed 
my  projects  of  reform,  and  I  have  not  yet  uttered  a  word  !" 

"  I  had  guessed  them  long  ago,  sire,  I  had  read  them  more  than 
once  upon  your  countenance  when  priests  and  nobles  were  by  ;  and 
I  triumphed  in  secret,  as  I  thought  of  the  day  that  was  to  come, 
when  you  would  be  the  sole  arbiter  of  their  destinies." 

"  The  day  has  come  !  it  has  come  I"  exclaimed  Joseph,  exultingly. 
"  Now  shall  begin  the  struggle  in  church  and  convent,  in  palace  and 
castle  ;  and  we  shall  shake  off"  ambitious  prelates  and  princes  as  the 
lion  does  the  insect  that  settles  upon  his  mane  !" 


546  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Let  the  lion  beware,  for  the  insect  bears  a  sting,  and  the  sting 
bears  poison  !" 

"  We  shall  rob  it  of  its  sting  before  we  rob  it  of  its  treasures. 
And  whence  comes  the  sting  of  these  troublesome  gnats?  It  resides 
in  the  riches  of  the  churcJi  and  the  privileges  of  the  nobles.  But  the 
noble  shall  bow  his  haughty  head  to  my  laws,  and  the  church  shall 
yield  up  her  wealth.  The  lord  of  the  soil  shall  come  down  to  the 
level  of  his  serf,  and  by  the  eternal  heavens  above  me,  the  priest 
shall  be  made  as  homeless  as  Christ  and  His  ajiostles  !" 

"  If  your  majesty  can  compass  this,  your  people  will  adore  you  as 
a  second  Messiah. " 

"I  will  do  it !  I  will  free  my  people  from  bondage,  and  if  I  am 
made  to  die  the  death  of  the  cross,  I  shall  exult  in  my  martyrdom, " 
exclaimed  Joseph,  with  flashing  eyes.  "The  internal  administra- 
tion of  Austria  calls  for  reform.  The  empire  over  which  I  am  to 
reign  must  be  governed  according  to  my  principles.  Religious 
prejudices,  fanaticism,  and  party  spirit  must  disappear,  and  the 
influence  of  the  clergy,  so  cherished  by  my  mother,  shall  cea.se  now 
and  forever.  Monks  and  nuns  shall  quit  their  idle  praying,  and 
w^ork  like  other  men  and  women  ;  and  I  shall  turn  the  whole  frater- 
nity of  contemplatives  into  a  body  of  industrious  bvirghers.  "* 

"Oh,  sire, "  exclaimed  Kaunitz,  "your  words  affright  me.  Be- 
tliink  you  that  you  throw  the  brand  of  revolt  among  a  nviraerous  and 
influential  class." 

"We  will  strip  them  of  their  armor,  and  so  they  shall  become 
innoxious. " 

"Gracious  Heaven  !"  ejaculated  Kaunitz,  "your  majesty  will — " 

"  Capture  the  convents,  and  carry  off  the  booty. " 

"But  that  will  be  tantamount  to  a  declaration  of  war  against 
Rome !" 

"  Exactly  what  I  propose  to  bring  about.  I  desire  to  teach  this 
servant  of  God  that  I  am  absolute  monarch  of  my  own  dominions, 
and  that  his — " 

"  True,  sire,  true,  but  be  cautious,  and  go  warily  to  work. " 

"I  have  no  time  to  temporize,"  cried  Joseph.  "What  is  to  be 
done  shall  be  done  at  once.  So  much  the  more  quickly  that  tliis 
question  of  stripping  the  convents  is  not  only  one  of  principle  but 
of  expediency  also.  They  abound  in  objects  of  value,  and  my  treas- 
ury needs  replenishing.  The  state  debt  is  large,  and  we  inust  re- 
trench. I  shall  not,  like  my  gracious  mother,  require  a  budget  of 
six  millions.  I  intend  to  restrict  myself  to  tlie  expenditure  which 
suffices  for  the  King  of  Prussia.  Of  course,  I  shall  not,  like  the 
munificent  Maria  Theresa,  dispense  ducats  and  smiles  in  equal  pro- 
fusion. My  people  must  be  satisfied  with  a  greeting  that  is  not  set 
to  the  music  of  the  chink  of  gold.  Neither  shall  I,  like  my  imperial 
lady-mother,  keep  two  thousand  horses  in  my  stables.  Moreover, 
the  pension-list  shall  be  decreased — let  the  reti-enchment  fall  upon 
wliom  it  may.  But  all  this  will  not  suffice  to  straighten  my  finan- 
cial affairs.  I  need  several  millions  more.  And  as  they  are  to  be 
found  in  church  and  convent,  I  shall  seek  them  there." 

Prince  Kaunitz  had  listened  to  tiiis  bold  harangue  with  perfect 
astonishment.  Several  times  in  the  course  of  it,  he  liad  nodded  his 
head,  and  more  than  once  he  had  smiled. 

*Tliis  whole  conversation  is  historical.  The  expressions  are  those  of  the  emperor. 
See  "  Letters  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  48. 


THE  BANKER  AND  HIS  DAUGHTER.  547 

"Sire,"  said  he,  "you  have  such  an  intrepid  spirit  that  my 
scarred  old  heart  beats  responsive  to  the  call  like  an  aged  war-hoi-se 
that  neighs  at  the  trumpet's  note.  Be  it  so,  then.  I  will  fight  at 
your  side  like  a  faithful  champion,  happy,  if,  during  the  strife,  I 
be  permitted  to  ward  olf  from  my  emperor's  head  a  blow  from  his 
adversary's  hands.  Remember  that  we  go  forth  to  fight  thousands. 
For  the  people  are  with  the  clergy,  and  they  will  cry  out  even  more 
bitterly  tlian  they  did  at  the  expulsion  of  the  Jesuits. " 

"And  they  will  cease  to  cry,  as  they  did  on  that  ocassion, "  ex- 
claimed the  emperor,  with  a  merry  laugh.  "Courage,  Kaunitz, 
courage  !  and  we  shall  prevail  over  Rome  and  all  monkdom  ;  and 
when  we  shall  have  utilized  their  treasures,  the  people  will  return 
to  their  senses,  and  applaud  the  deed. "  * 

"So  be  it  then,  your  majesty.  I  will  help  you  to  pluck  the 
poisonous  weeds,  and  sow  in  their  places  good  secular  grain. " 


CHAPTER    CXLII. 

THE  BANKER  AND  HIS  DAUGHTER. 

The  beautiful  daughter  of  the  Jewish  banker  was  alone  in  her 
apartments,  which,  from  the  munificence  of  her  wealthy  father, 
were  almost  regal  in  their  arrangements. 

Rachel,  however,  was  so  accustomed  to  magnificence  that  she 
had  lost  all  appreciation  of  it.  She  scarcely  vouchsafed  a  glance  to 
her  inlaid  cabinets,  her  oriental  carpets,  her  crystal  lustres,  and  her 
costly  paintings.  Even  her  own  transcendent  beauty,  reflected  in 
the  large  Venetian  mirrors  that  surrounded  her,  was  unheeded,  as 
she  reclined  in  simple  muslin  among  the  silken  cushions  of  a  Turk- 
ish divan. 

But  Rachel,  in  her  muslin,  was  lovely  beyond  all  power  of  lan- 
guage to  describe.  Her  youth,  grace,  and  beauty  were  ornaments 
with  which  "  Nature's  own  cunning  hand, "  had  decked  her  from  her 
birth.  What  diamond  ever  lit  up  Golconda's  mine  with  such  living 
fire  as  flashed  from  her  hazel  eyes?  What  pearl  upon  its  ocean -bed 
ever  glittered  with  a  sheen  like  that  of  the  delicate  teeth  that  peeped 
from  between  her  pouting  coral  lips?  When  she  wandered  in  Jier 
vapory  white  dresses  through  her  father's  princely  halls,  neither 
pictures  nor  statues  there  could  compare  in  color  or  proportion  with 
the  banker's  queenly  daughter  herself. 

She  lay  on  the  dark  silk  cushions  of  the  divan  like  a  swan  upon 
the  opalline  waters  of  the  lake  at  sunset.  One  arm,  white  and  firm 
as  Carrara  marble,  supported  her  graceful  head,  while  in  her  right 
hand  she  held  an  open  letter. 

"Oh,  my  beloved  !"  murmured  she,  "you  hope  every  thing  from 
the  magnanimity  of  the  emperor.  But  in  what  blessed  clime  was 
ever  a  Jewess  permitted  to  wed  with  a  Christian  ?  The  emperor  may 
remove  the  shackles  of  our  national  bondage,  but  he  can  never  lift 
us  to  social  equality  with  the  people  of  another  faith.  There  is 
nothing  to  bridge  the  gulf  that  yawns  between  my  beloved  and  me. 
It  would  kill  my  father  to  know  that  I  had  renounced  Judaism, 
and  I  would  rather  die  than  be  his  murderer.     Oh,  my  father !    oh, 

*  Joseph's  own  words.    See  Letters,  etc.,  p.  49. 


548  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS  COURT. 

my  lover  !     My  heart  lies  between  you,  and  yet  I  may  not  love  you 
both  ! — But  which  must  I  sacrifice  to  the  other?" 

She  paused  and  raised  her  eyes  imploringly  to  heaven.  Her 
cheeks  flushed,  her  bosom  heaved,  and  no  longer  able  to  restrain  her 
agitation,  she  sprang  from  her  divan,  and  light  as  a  gazelle,  crossed 
the  room,  and  threw  open  the  window. 

"  No,  my  lover, "  said  she,  "  no,  I  cannot  renounce  you  !  A  woman 
must  leave  father  and  mother,  to  follow  him  who  reigns  over  her 
heart !  I  will  leave  all  things,  then,  for  jou,  my  Giinther !"  And 
she  pressed  his  letter  to  her  lips  ;  then  folding  it,  she  hid  it  in  her 
bosom. 

A  knock  at  the  door  caused  her  to  start  slightly,  and,  before  she 
had  time  to  speak,  the  Jewish  banker  entered  the  room. 

"  Mj"^  dear  father  !"  exclaimed  Rachel,  joyfullj',  flying  to  him  and 
putting  her  arms  around  his  tall,  athletic  form. 

Eskeles  Flies  stroked  her  dark  hair,  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  her 
brow.  "  I  have  not  seen  you  for  two  days,  father, "  said  Rachel, 
reproachfully. 

"  I  have  been  absent  inspecting  my  new  factories  at  Briinn,  my 
daughter." 

"  And  you  went  away  without  a  word  of  adieu  to  me  !" 

^^  Adieu  is  a  sorrowful  word,  my  daughter,  and  I  speak  it  reluc- 
tantly ;  but  a  return  home  is  a  joy  unspeakable,  and  you  see  that  my 
first  visit  is  to  you,  dear  child.  To-day  I  come  as  a  messenger  of 
good  tidings." 

Rachel  raised  her  head,  and  a  flush  of  expectation  rose  to  her 
face. 

"Do  the  good  tidings  concern  us  both?"  asked  she. 

"  Not  only  ourselves,  but  our  whole  people.  Look  at  me,  Rachel, 
and  tell  me  wherein  I  have  changed  since  last  we  met." 

Rachel  stepped  back  and  contemplated  her  father  with  an  affec- 
tionate smile.  "I  see  the  same  tall  figure,  the  same  energetic, 
manly  features,  the  same  dear  smile,  and  the  same — no,  not  quite 
the  same  dress.  You  have  laid  aside  the  yellow  badge  of  inferiority 
that  the  Jew  wears  upon  his  arm.  " 

"  The  emperor  has  freed  us  fi"om  this  humiliation,  Rachel.  This 
burden  of  a  thousand  years  has  Joseph  lifted  from  our  hearts,  and 
under  his  reign  we  are  to  enjoy  the  rights  of  men  and  Austrians  !" 

"The  emperor  is  a  great  and  magnanimous  prince!"  exclaimed 
Rachel. 

"  We  have  been  trampled  so  long  under  foot, "  said  the  banker, 
scornfully,  "that  the  smallest  concession  seems  magnanimity.  But 
of  what  avail  will  be  the  absence  of  the  badge  of  shame?  It  will 
not  change  the  peculiarity  of  feature  which  marks  us  among  men, 
and  betrays  us  to  the  Christian's  hate." 

"May  our  nation's  type  be  ever  written  upon  our  faces!"  ex- 
claimed Rachel.  "  The  emperor  will  protect  us  from  the  little  perse- 
cutions of  society. " 

"  He  will  have  little  time  to  think  of  us,  he  will  have  enough  to 
do  to  protect  himself  from  his  own  enemies.  He  has  decreed  the 
dispersion  of  the  conventual  orders,  and  as  he  has  refused  to  yield 
up  the  goods  of  the  church,  his  subjects  are  becoming  alienated 
from  a  man  who  has  no  regard  for  the  feelings  of  the  jiope.  More- 
over, he  has  proclaimed  universal  toleration. " 

"And  has  he  included  us  among  the  enfranchised,  dear  father?" 


THE  BANKER  AND  HIS  DAUGHTER.  549 

"Yes,  my  child,  even  we  are  to  be  tolerated.  We  are  also  to  be 
permitted  to  rent  estates,  and  to  learn  trades.  Mark  me — not  to  buy 
estates,  but  to  i-ent  them.  We  are  not  yet  permitted  to  be  landed 
proprietors.*  But  they  cannot  prevent  the  Jew  from  accumulating 
gold — 'yellow,  shining  gold;'  and  riches  are  our  revenge  upon 
Christendom  for  the  many  humiliations  we  have  endured  at  its 
pious  hands.  They  have  withheld  from  us  titles,  orders,  and  rank, 
but  they  cannot  withhold  money.  The  finger  of  the  Jew  is  a  mag- 
net, and  when  he  points  it,  the  Christian  ducats  fly  into  his  hand. 
Oh,  Rachel !  I  look  forward  to  the  day  when  the  Jews  shall  monop- 
olize the  wealth  of  the  world  :  when  they  shall  be  called  to  the 
councils  of  kings  and  emperors,  and  furnish  to  their  oppressors  the 
means  of  reddening  the  earth  with  one  another's  blood  !  We  shall 
pay  them  to  slaughter  one  another,  Rachel ;  and  that  shall  be  our 
glorious  revenge  !" 

"My  dear,  dear  father,"  interjjosed  Rachel,  "what  has  come  over 
you  that  you  should  speak  such  resentful  words  ?  Revenge  is  un- 
worthy of  the  noble  sons  of  Israel ;  leave  it  to  the  Christian,  whose 
words  ai-e  love,  while  his  deeds  are  hate. " 

"  His  words  to  the  Jew  are  as  insolent  as  his  deeds  are  wicked. 
But  I  know  very  well  hosv  to  exasperate  and  humble  the  Christians. 
I  do  it  by  means  of  my  rich  dwelling  and  my  costly  equipages.  I 
do  it  by  inviting  them  to  come  and  see  how  far  more  sumptuously 
I  live  than  they.  The  sight  of  my  luxuries  blackens  their  hearts 
with  envy  ;  but  most  of  all  they  envy  the  Jewish  banker  that  his 
daughter  so  far  outshines  in  beauty  their  Gentile  women  !" 

"Dear  father, "  said  Rachel,  coloring,  "you  go  to  extremes  in 
praise,  as  in  blame.  You  exaggerate  the  defects  of  the  Christian, 
and  the  attractions  of  your  daughter. " 

Her  father  drew  her  graceful  head  to  him,  and  nestled  it  upon 
his  breast.  "No,  my  child,  no,  I  do  not  exaggerate  your  beauty. 
It  is  not  T  alone,  but  all  Vienna,  that  is  in  raptures  with  yf)ur  in- 
comparable loveliness." 

"Hush,  dear  father  !     Would  you  see  me  vain  and  heartless?" 

"I  would  see  you  appreciate  your  beauty,  and  make  use  of  it." 

"  Make  use  of  it !     How?" 

"  To  help  your  father  in  his  projects  of  vengeance.  You  cannot 
conceive  how  exultant  I  am  when  I  see  you  surrounded  by  hosts  of 
Christian  nobles,  all  doing  homage  to  your  beauty  and  your  father's 
millions.  Encourage  them,  Rachel,  that  they  may  become  intoxi- 
cated with  love,  and  that  on  the  day  when  they  ask  me  for  my 
daughter's  hand,  I  may  tell  them  that  my  daughter  is  a  Jewess,  and 
can  never  be  the  wife  of  a  Christian  !" 

Rachel  made  no  reply  ;  her  head  still  rested  on  her  father's 
bosom,  and  he  could  not  see  that  tears  were  falling  in  showers  from 
her  eyes.  But  he  felt  her  sobs,  and  guessing  that  something  was 
Sieving  her,  he  drew  her  gently  to  a  seat. 

"  Dear,  dear  child, "  cried  he,  anxiousl}%  "  tell  me  why  you 
weep. " 

"  I  weep  because  I  see  that  my  father  loves  revenge  far  more  than 
his  only  child  ;  and  that  he  is  willing  to  peril  her  soul  by  defiling  it 
with  wicked  coqueti-y.  Now  I  understand  why  it  is  that  such  a 
profligate  as  Count  Podstadsky  has  been  suffered  to  pollute  our  home 
by  his  visits !" 

♦Ramshom,  "Joseph  II.,"  p.  259. 


550  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

The  banker's  face  grew  bright.  "Then,  Rachel,  you  do  not  love 
him?"  said  he,  pressing  his  daughter  to  his  heart. 

"Love  him!"  exclaimed  Rachel,  with  a  shudder,  "love  a  man 
who  has  neither  mind  nor  heart !" 

"  And  I  was  so  silly  as  to  fear  that  your  heart  had  strayed  from  its 
duty,  my  child,  and  that  the  tears  which  you  are  shedding  were  for 
him  !  But  I  breathe  again,  and  can  exult  once  more  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  his  love  for  you. " 

"No,  father, "  said  Rachel,  "he  does  not  love  me.  He  loves  noth- 
ing except  himself  ;  but  he  wearies  me  with  his  importunities." 

"What  has  he  done  to  you,  my  daughter?" 

"During  your  absence  he  came  three  times  to  see  me.  As  I 
denied  myself,  he  had  resort  to  writing,  and  sent  me  a  note  request- 
ing a  private  interview.  Read  it  for  yourself,  father.  It  lies  on 
the  table. " 

The  banker  read,  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  anger.  "  Unmannerly 
wretch !"  exclaimed  he,  "  to  use  such  language  to  my  daughter ! 
But  all  Vienna  shall  know  how  we  scorn  him  !  Answer  his  note 
favorably,  Rachel ;  but  let  the  hour  of  your  iuteiview  be  at  mid-day, 
for  I  wish  no  one  to  suppose  that  my  daughter  receives  Christians 
by  stealth." 

"I  will  obey  you,  father, "  replied  Rachel,  with  a  sigh;  "but  I 
would  be  better  satisfied  to  thrust  him,  without  further  ceremony, 
from  the  door.  I  cannot  write  to  him,  however,  that  would  be 
a  compromise  of  my  own  honor  ;  but  I  will  send  him  a  verbal  mes- 
sage by  my  own  faithful  old  nurse.  She  knows  me  too  well  to  sus- 
pect me  of  clandestine  intercourse  with  a  wretch  like  Podstadsky." 

"  Why  not  send  the  girl  who  delivered  his  letter?" 

"Because  I  discharged  her  on  the  spot  for  her  indiscretion." 

"  Bravely  done,  my  precious  child !  You  are  as  wise  and  as 
chaste  as  Israel's  beauteous  daughters  have  ever  been.  I  shall  re- 
ward you  for  despising  the  Christian  count.  But  I  must  go.  I 
must  go  to  double  my  millions  and  lay  tliem  all  at  my  Rachel's 
feet. " 

He  kissed  his  daughter's  forehead,  and  rose  from  the  divan.  But 
as  he  reached  the  door  he  turned  carelessly. 

"  Has  the  emperor's  private  secretary  visited  you  of  late?" 

"  He  was  here  yesterday, "  said  Rachel,  blushing. 

"Did  you  receive  him?" 

"  Yes,  dear  father,  for  you  yourself  presented  him  to  me. " 

Eskeles  Flies  was  silent  for  a  while.  "And  yet,"  resumed  he,  "I 
believe  that  I  was  wrong  to  invite  him  hither.  In  your  unconscious 
modesty,  you  have  not  perceived,  my  child,  that  Giinther  loves  you 
with  all  the  fervor  of  a  true  and  honest  heart.  He  may  have  in- 
dulged the  thought  that  I  would  bestow  my  daughter  upon  a  poor 
little  imperial  secretary,  whose  brother  enjoys  the  privilege  of  black- 
ing the  emperor's  boots.  Athougli  I  laugh  at  this  presumption,  I 
pity  his  infatuation,  for  he  is  an  excellent  young  man.  Be  careful 
— or  rather,  receive  him  no  longer.  You  see,  Rachel,  that  toward 
an  estimable  man,  I  do  not  encourage  coquetry  ;  on  the  contrary,  J 
plead  for  poor  Giinther.  He  must  not  be  exposed  to  a  disapjioint- 
ment.     It  is  understood,  then,  that  you  decline  his  visits. " 

He  smiled  kindly  upon  his  daugliter,  and  left  the  room. 

Rachel  looked  after  liiin  with  lii)s  lialf  parted,  and  face  as  pale  aa 
marble.     She  stood  motionless  until  tlie  sound  of  her  father's  foot- 


THE  COUNTESS  BAILLOU.  551 

steps  had  died  away ;    then  sinking  upon  her  knees,  she  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands,  and  cried  out  in  accents  of  despair  : 
"  Oh,  my  God  !     I  am  to  see  him  no  more  !." 


CHAPTER    CXLIII. 

THE     COUNTESS     BAILLOU. 

The  beautiful  Countess  Baillou  was  about  to  give  a  ball.  She 
had  invited  all  the  haut  ton  of  Vienna,  and  they  had  accepted  the 
invitations.  And  yet  the  countess  had  been  but  four  weeks  in  the 
Austrian  capital ;  she  had  no  relations  there,  and  none  of  the  aristoc- 
racy had  ever  heard  her  name  before.  But  she  had  come  to  Vienna 
provided  with  letters  of  introduction,  and  money ;  and  these  two 
keys  had  opened  the  saloons  of  the  fashionables  to  the  beautiful 
stranger. 

Her  splendid  equipage  had  been  seen  in  the  parks,  and  her  mag- 
nificent diamonds  at  the  theatre.  All  the  young  men  of  fashion  had 
directed  their  lorgnettes  toward  her  box,  admiring  not  only  her 
extraordinary  beauty,  but  the  grace  and  abandon  of  her  attitude,  as 
she  leaned  back  in  her  velvet  arm-chair.  She  had  not  long  been 
seated  when  the  door  of  the  box  opened,  and  a  young  man  entered 
whom  the  lady  greeted  with  a  cordial  smile.  Every  one  knew  the 
visitor  to  be  Count  Podstadsky-Liechtenstein,  the  richest,  haughti- 
est, and  handsomest  cavalier  in  all  Vienna.  Podstadsky  was  the 
son  of  a  distinguished  nobleman,  high  in  the  emperor's  favor ;  he 
had  just  returned  from  his  travels,  and  all  the  Viennese  gallants  were 
eager  to  imitate  him  in  every  thing.  To  see  him  in  the  box  of  the 
beautiful  stranger  was  to  fire  the  ambition  of  every  man  to  know 
her  ;  the  more  so  that  the  haughty  Podstadsky,  instead  of  accepting 
a  seat,  was  standing  in  an  attitude  of  profound  respect,  which  he 
maintained  until  he  took  his  leave. 

Podstadsky,  of  course,  was  assailed  with  questions  in  relation  to 
the  countess.  He  had  known  her  in  Italy  as  the  wife  of  a  wealtliy 
old  nobleman  to  whom  her  parents  had  sacrificed  her  before  she  was 
eighteen.  She  had  been  sincerely  admired  in  Rome,  not  only  on 
account  of  her  beauty,  but  of  her  wit,  goodness,  and  above  all  of  her 
admirable  behavior  toward  her  repulsive  old  husband.  Her  conduct 
had  been  so  exemplary  that  she  had  been  called  "La  contessa  del 
cnore  freddo. "  *  Podstadsky  confessed  that  even  he  had  been  des- 
perately in  love  with  her,  but  finding  her  imapproachable,  had  left 
Rome  in  despair.  What  then  was  his  delight  when,  a  few  moments 
ago,  he  had  learned  from  her  own  lips  that  she  was  a  widow,  and 
had  come  to  spend  a  season  in  Vienna  ! 

The  consequence  of  this  recital  was  that  Podstadsky's  j'oung  ac- 
quaintances were  clamorous  for  presentation  to  la  contessa.  He 
stepped  into  her  box  to  inform  the  lady  of  their  wishes,  but  soon 
returned  with  the  unwelcome  tidings  that  the  countess  would  re- 
ceive no  male  visitor  unless  he  came  in  the  company  of  a  lady. 
This,  of  course,  increased  tlie  longing  of  the  gallants  tenfold,  and 
the  next  day  when  her  equipage  was  seen  coming  in  the  park,  it  was 
followed  by  many  an  eager  horseman,  jealous  beyond  expression  of 

*  The  countess  with  the  cold  heart. 
36 


552  JOSEPH  11.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Count  Podstadsky,  who  was  admitted  to  the  blessed  privilege  of  rid 
ing  near  the  lady  of  tlieir  thoughts. 

Some  days  later  the  young  countess  left  her  cards  and  letters  of 
introduction,  and  as  they  were  from  Orsinis,  Colonnas,  and  other 
grandees  of  Rome,  her  hotel  was  crowded  with  elegant  equipages, 
and  she  was  admitted  into  the  charmed  circles  of  the  first  society  in 
Vienna. 

As  for  the  furniture  of  her  hotel,  it  surpassed  anything  in  the  city. 

Her  orders  of  every  kind  had  been  princely.  Her  sofas  and  chairs 
were  of  embroidered  satin  ;  her  tables  of  inlaid  wood  and  verde 
antique ;  her  carpets  the  richest  Persian  ;  her  paintings  and  statuary 
of  rarest  value.  She  had  bespoken  several  services  of  gold,  and 
jewellers  were  revelling  in  her  orders  iov  pariircs  such  as  princesses 
would  have  been  proud  to  possess. 

One  quality  which  the  Countess  Baillou  possessed  gave  her  un- 
bounded popularity  with  those  whom  she  patronized.  Her  purchases 
were  all  promptly  paid  in  new  Austrian  bank-notes,  and  tradesman 
vied  with  tradesman  as  to  who  should  have  the  privilege  of  her 
custom. 

Finally,  her  palace  was  furnished,  and  the  day  of  her  ball  had 
dawned.  Every  invitation  had  been  accepted,  for  the  world  was 
curious  to  see  the  splendors  of  her  fairy  abode,  and  to  behold  the 
fairy  emerge  from  the  retreat  w^herein  she  had  buried  herself  up  to 
the  date  of  this  grand  reception. 

And  now  the  long  suites  were  lit  up,  and  room  after  room  was 
one  blazing  sea  of  light,  gold,  crystal,  bronze,  and  marble.  Here 
and  there  wei'e  charming  boudoirs,  where  those  who  were  weary  of 
splendor  could  retire  to  converse  in  the  soft,  svibdued  light  that  was 
shed  upon  them  from  veiled  lamps.  The  whole  was  closed  by  mag- 
nificent conservatories,  where  flourished  the  flowers  and  fruits  of 
every  clime ;  where  tropical  birds  were  seen  fluttering  among  the 
branches  of  the  orange- trees,  or  dipping  their  beaks  in  the  classic 
basins  of  the  fountains  that  were  gently  plashing  there. 

The  countess  had  just  emerged  from  her  dressing-room.  Her 
dress  for  the  evening  was  of  white  satin,  and  the  coronal  of  brill- 
iants which  flashed  among  the  braids  of  her  black  hair  was  worthy 
to  be  the  bridal-diadem  of  a  queen.  The  Countess  Baillou  was  tall 
and  stately  in  her  beauty  ;  hers  was  the  fascination  of  the  dark-eyed 
Italian,  united  to  the  majesty  of  a  daughter  of  ancient  Rome,  and 
the  imion  was  irresistible.  Her  throat  was  slender,  her  head  small, 
and  her  classic  oval  face  was  of  a  pale,  pearly  hue,  witliout  a  tinge 
of  the  rose,  which,  while  it  lends  animation  to  a  woman's  face,  de- 
tracts from  the  camelia-like  purity  of  genuine  patrician  beauty. 

The  countess  glided  across  the  room,  and  throwing  back  her  head 
took  a  critical  survey  of  her  apartments.  They  pi-esented  a  combi- 
nation of  taste  with  magnificence,  and  their  mistress  was  satisfied. 

She  turned  to  her  steward,  who  M'as  breathlessly  awaiting  the 
result  of  his  lady's  inspection.  "Not  bad,"  said  she,  in  a  rich, 
melodious  voice.     "  I  am  quite  pleased  with  your  labors. " 

"  Will  my  lady  walk  through  the  rooms  to  see  the  conservatories?" 
asked  the  steward. 

"Why  so?"  replied  she,  with  indifference.  "I  have  no  doubt 
that  all  is  as  it  should  be  ;  I  am  too  weary  of  splendor  to  take  much 
interest  in  it.  See,  however,  tliat  tlie  tables  are  spread  with  every 
luxury  that  can  tempt  the  palates  of  my  guests. " 


THE  COUNTESS  BAILLOU.  553 

"I  hope  your  ladyship  will  be  satisfied.  The  two  cooks  from 
Paris  profess,  the  one  to  have  learned  liis  art  under  the  Prince  de 
Soubise,  the  other  to  have  received  his  receipts  for  pastry  from  the 
Duke  de  Richelieu?" 

"  Let  them  both  do  their  best, "  said  the  countess,  languidly,  "  and 
remember  that  expense  is  to  be  no  obstacle  to  the  carrying  out  of 
my  orders. " 

With  these  words  she  dismissed  the  steward,  and  sank  back  into 
the  recesses  of  an  arm-chair.  But  when  he  had  fairly  left,  and  she 
knew  that  she  was  alone,  her  aspect  changed.  She  rose  quickly 
from  the  chair,  and  walked  through  her  rooms,  surveying  their 
splendor  with  visible  exultation. 

How  peerless  was  her  beauty  as  she  swept  through  those  empty 
rooms,  her  diamonds  reflected  from  mirror  to  mirror,  lier  rich  dress 
falling  in  lieavy  folds  about  her  form  !  He  who  had  seen  her  tliere 
would  liave  taken  her  for  the  princess  who  had  just  awakened  from 
her  liundred  years'  sleep,  looking  around  her  palatial  solitude  to  see 
who  it  was  that  had  broken  the  spell  of  her  enchanted  trance.  Her 
face  was  lit  up  with  triumph  as  she  went,  and  at  times,  when  some- 
thing of  rare  value  met  her  eyes,  in  the  ecstasy  of  her  pride  she 
laughed  aloud. 

Suddenly  the  stillness  was  broken  by  the  sound  of  a  man's  foot- 
step. The  laugh  of  the  countess  ceased,  and  she  drew  on  her  mask 
of  indifference.  She  turned  slowly  around,  and  dropped  it  again — 
for  the  intruder  was  Count  Podstadsky. 

Just  in  the  midst  of  the  dancing-room,  under  the  blaze  of  a  crystal 
chandelier,  they  met.  The  countess  gave  him  her  hand,  and  he 
grasped  it  in  his  own,  looking  earnestly  at  her  fair,  bewitching  face. 
She  returned  the  glance  with  her  large,  flashing  eyes,  and  so  they 
stood  for  a  time  together.     There  was  a  secret  between  those  two. 

The  countess  spoke  first.  Her  mouth  relaxed  into  a  scornful 
smile.  "Count  Carl  von  Podstadsky-Liechtenstein, "  said  she,  "you 
are  a  man,  and  vet  you  tremble. " 

"Yes,  Arabella,  I  tremble,  but  not  for  myself.  As  I  look  upon 
you,  in  the  fulness  of  your  incomparable  beauty,  my  blood  freezes 
with  terror,  and  a  voice  whispers  to  me,  'Have  mercy  on  tliis 
woman  whose  beauty  is  so  akin  to  that  of  angels !  You  both  stand 
upon  the  edge  of  a  precipice  :  shield  her  at  least  from  the  ruin  wliich 
threatens  you  ! '  " 

The  countess  raised  her  snowy  shoulders.  "German  sentimen- 
tality," said  she.  "If  you  mix  sentiment  with  your  cards,  we  shall 
lose  the  game.  Count  Podstadsky.  Hear,  then,  what  I  have  to  say 
to  you.  It  is  true  that  we  stand  upon  the  brow  of  a  precipice  ;  but 
we  must  contemplate  it  fearlessly,  and  so  we  shall  grow  accustomed 
to  our  danger,  and  learn  to  escape  it.  Why  do  you  wish  to  rescue 
me,  Carl?  I  do  not  wish  to  be  rescued.  I  like  the  giddy  brink,  and 
look  down  with  defiance  into  the  abyss  that  blackens  the  future  be- 
fore me. " 

"Give  me  some  of  your  courage, "  sighed  the  count.  "Let  me 
drink  confidence  from  the  depths  of  your  fearless,  flashing  eyes,  my 
angel. " 

"Angel!"  said  Arabella,  with  a  mocking  laugh.  "If  so,  call  me 
your  fallen  angel ;  for  when  I  took  the  vmfathomable  leap  which 
leads  from  innocence  to  guilt,  yourarms  were  outstretched  to  receive 
me.     But   pshaw !  what  bootless   retrospection !    J  am  here,  Carl, 


554  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COUET. 

true  as  steel ;  ready  to  stand  or  fall  at  your  side.  Feel  my  hand,  it 
is  warm — feel  my  pulse,  it  beats  as  evenly  as  though  I  had  never 
slept  a  night  out  of  Eden. " 

"You  are  a  heroine,  Arabella.  The  magnificence  around  us 
affrights  my  cowardly  soul ;  while  you — surely  I  heard  your  silvery 
laugh  when  I  entered  this  room  awhile  ago. " 

"To  be  sure  you  did,  faint-hearted  knight  of  the  card  -  table  !  I 
laughed  for  joy  when  I  thought  of  former  misery  ;  and  compared  it 
with  present  splendor ;  the  more  so,  that  I  am  the  bold  architect 
who  raised  the  edifice  of  my  own  fortune.  We  need  not  be  grateful 
to  Heaven  for  our  luck,  Carl,  for  we  are  not  in  favor  with  the  celes- 
tial aristocracy ;  we  have  no  one  to  thank  for  our  blessings  but 
ourselves. " 

"And  will  have  no  one  to  thank  but  ourselves  when  ruin  over- 
takes us. " 

"Possibly,"  said  Arabella,  with  a  shrug.  "But  remember  that 
we  have  already  been  shipwrecked,  and  have  not  only  saved  our- 
selves, but  have  brought  glorious  spoils  with  us  to  shore.  So  away 
with  your  misgivings !  they  do  not  become  the  career  you  have 
chosen. " 

"  Right,  Arabella,  right.  They  do  not,  indeed  !  But  promise  me 
that  I  shall  always  have  you  at  my  side  to  share  my  fate,  whatever 
it  bring  forth. " 

"  I  promise, "  said  she,  raising  her  starry  eyes  to  his,  and  clasping 
with  her  small,  firm  hand  his  cold  and  clammy  fingers.  "  By  the 
memory  of  Rome,  and  the  dark-rolling  waters  of  the  Tiber,  from 
which  you  rescued  me  that  night,  I  promise.  And  now  let  us  pledge 
each  other  in  a  draught  from  the  depths  of  the  Styx  Look  around 
you,  Carl,  and  realize  that  all  this  magnificence  is  ours,  and  to-night 
I  play  the  hostess  to  the  proud  aristocracy  of  Vienna.  But  one  ques- 
tion before  the  curtain  rises.  How  goes  the  affair  with  the  banker's 
lovely  Rachel?" 

"Gloriously!  She  loves  me,  for  she  has  consented  to  receive  me 
day  after  to-morrow,  during  her  father's  absence." 

"  Go,  then,  and  the  blessings  of  your  fallen  angel  go  with  you ! 
Play  your  game  cautiously,  and  let  us  hear  the  chink  of  Herr 
Eskeles  Flies'  gold  near  the  rustling  of  ovir  fragile  bank- notes. 
And  now  go.  Return  in  half  an  hour,  that  I  may  receive  you  in 
presence  of  our  fastidious  guests.  They  might  not  approve  of  this 
teted-tete,  for  j'ou  are  said  to  be  a  sad  profligate,  Carl !" 

She  ki.ssed  her  little  jewelled  hand,  and  while  her  Carl  dis- 
appeared through  a  secret  door  on  one  side  of  the  room,  she  glided 
forward  with  grace  and  elegance  inimitable,  to  receive  the  liigh-born 
ladies  who  were  just  then  passing  the  portals  of  her  princely  abode. 


CHAPTER    CXLIV. 

THE  EXPULSION   OF  THE  CLARISSERINES. 

The  stroke  so  long  apprehended  by  the  church  had  fallen.  Joseph 
had  thrown  down  the  gauntlet,  and  had  dealt  his  first  blow  at  the 
chair  of  St.  Peter.  This  blow  was  directed  toward  the  chief  pastors 
of  the  Austrian  church — the  bishops.  Their  allegiance,  spiritual  as 
well  as  temporal,  was  due  to  the  emperor  alone,    and  no  order 


THE  EXPULSION  OF  THE  CLARISSERINES.  555 

emanating  from  Rome  could  take  effect  without  first  being  submitted 
for  his  approval.  The  bishops  were  to  be  reinstated  in  their  ancient 
rights,  and  iAxej  alone  were  to  grant  marriage  dispensations  and 
impose  penances. 

But  tliis  was  only  one  step  in  the  new  "reformation"  of  the  Em- 
peror Joseph.  He  dissociated  all  spiritual  communities  whatever 
from  connection  with  foreign  superiors,  and  freed  tliem  from  all 
dependence  upon  them.  They  were  to  receive  their  orders  from 
native  bishops  alone,  and  these  in  their  turn  were  to  promulgate  no 
spiritual  edict  witJiout  tiie  approbation  and  permission  of  the  reign- 
ing sovereign  of  Austria. 

Tliese  ordinances  did  away  with  the  influence  of  the  head  of  the 
churcli  in  Austria,  but  they  did  not  suftlciently  destroy  that  of  the 
clergy  over  their  flocks.  This,  too,  must  be  annihilated  ;  and  now 
every  thing  was  ready  for  the  great  final  blow  which  was  to  crush  to 
the  earth  every  vestige  of  church  influence  within  the  dominions  of 
Joseph  the  Second.  This  last  stroke  was  the  dispersion  of  the  relig- 
ious communities.  Monks  and  nuns  should  be  forced  to  work  with 
the  people.  They  were  no  longer  to  be  permitted  to  devote  their  lives 
to  solitary  prayer,  and  every  contemplative  order  was  suppressed. 

The  cry  of  horror  which  issued  from  the  convents  was  echoed 
throughout  the  land,  from  palace  to  hovel.  The  people  were  more 
indignant — they  were  terror-stricken  ;  for  the  emperor  was  not  only 
an  unbeliever  himself,  he  was  forcing  his  people  to  unbelief.  The 
very  existence  of  religion,  said  they,  was  threatened  by  his  tyranny 
and  impiety. 

Joseph  heard  all  this  and  laughed  it  to  scorn.  "  When  the  priests 
cease  their  howls, "  said  he,  "the  people,  too,  will  stop,  and  they  "will 
tliank  me  for  what  I  am  doing.  "When  they  see  that  the  heavens 
have  not  fallen  because  a  set  of  silly  nuns  are  startled  from  their 
nests,  they  will  come  to  their  senses,  and  perceive  that  I  have  freed 
thein  from  a  load  of  religious  prejudices. " 

But  the  people  were  not  of  that  opinion.  They  hated  the  imperial 
fresthinker  who  with  his  brutal  hands  was  thrusting  out  helpless 
women  from  their  homes,  and  was  robbing  the  very  altars  of  their 
sacred  vessels,  to  convert  them  into  money  for  his  own  profane  uses. 

All  this,  however,  did  not  prevent  the  execution  of  the  order  for 
the  expulsion  of  the  nuns.  In  spite  of  priests  and  people,  the  decree 
was  carried  out  on  the  l2th  of  January,  of  the  year  1782.  A  multi- 
tude had  assembled  before  the  convent  of  the  Clarisserines  whence 
the  sisters  were  about  to  be  expelled,  and  where  the  sacred  vessels 
and  vestments  appertaining  to  the  altars  were  to  be  exposed  for  sale 
at  auction  ! 

Thousands  of  men  were  there,  with  anxious  looks  fixed  upon  the 
gates  of  the  convent  before  which  the  deputies  of  the  emperor,  in  full 
uniform,  stood  awaiting  the  key  which  tlie  prioress  was  about  to 
deliver  into  their  hands.  Not  far  off,  the  public  auctioneers  were 
seated  at  a  table  with  writing-materials,  and  around  them  swarmed 
a  crowd  of  Jewish  tradesmen  eagerly  awaiting  the  sale  ! 

"See  them,"  said  a  priest  to  the  multitude,  "see  those  hungry 
Jews,  hovering  like  vultures  over  the  treasures  of  the  church  !  They 
will  drink  from  the  chalice  that  has  held  the  blood  of  the  Lord,  and 
the  pix  which  has  contained  his  body  they  will  convert  into  coin ! 
Alas !  alas  !  The  emperor,  who  has  enfranchised  the  Jew,  has  dis- 
franchised the  Christian  !     Unhappy  servants  of  the  Most  High  !  ye 


556  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

are  driven  from  His  temple,  that  usurers  and  extortioners  may  buy 
and  sell  where  once  naught  was  to  be  heard  but  praise  and  worship 
of  Jehovah  !" 

The  people  had  come  nearer  to  listen,  and  when  the  priest  ceased, 
their  faces  grew  dark  and  sullen,  and  their  low  mutterings  were 
heard  like  the  distant  murniurings  of  a  coming  storm,  while  many 
a  hand  was  clinched  at  the  Jews,  who  were  laughing  and  chattering 
togetlier,  greatly  enjoying  the  scene. 

•'  We  will  not  permit  it,  father,"  cried  a  young  burgher,  "we  will 
not  allow  the  sacred  vessels  to  be  bought  and  sold  !" 

"  No,  we  will  not  allow  it, "  echoed  the  people. 

"  You  cannot  prevent  it,  "  replied  the  priest,  "  for  the  emperor  is 
absolute  master  here.  Neitlier  can  you  prevent  the  expulsion  of  the 
pious  Clarisserines  from  the  home  which  was  purchased  for  them 
with  the  funds  of  the  church.  Well!  Let  us  be  patient.  If  the 
Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth  can  suffer  it,  so  can  we.  But  see — they 
come — the  victims  of  an  unbelieving  sovereign  !" 

And  the  priest  pointed  to  the  convent-gates  through  which  the 
procession  had  begun  to  pass.  At  their  head  came  the  prioress  in 
the  wliite  garb  of  her  order,  her  head  enveloped  in  a  long  veil,  her 
face  pale  and  convulsed  with  suffering,  and  her  hands,  which  held 
a  golden  crucifix,  tightly  clasjjed  over  her  breast.  Following  her  in 
pairs  came  the  nuns,  first  those  who  had  grown  gray  in  the  service 
of  the  Lord,  then  the  young  ones,  and  fiually  the  novices. 

The  people  looked  with  heart  felt  sympathy  at  the  long,  sad  pro- 
cession which,  silent  as  spectres,  wound  through  the  grounds  of  the 
home  which  they  were  leaving  forever. 

The  imperial  commissioners  gave  the  sign  to  halt,  while,  their 
eyes  blinded  by  tears,  the  peojile  gazed  upon  the  face  of  the  vener- 
able prioress,  who,  obedient  to  the  emperor's  cruel  decree,  was 
yielding  up  the  keys  and  the  golden  crucifix.  She  gave  her  keys 
with  a  firm  hand  ;  but  when  she  relinquished  the  emblem  of  her 
office  and  of  her  faith,  the  courage  of  tlie  poor  old  woman  almost 
deserted  lier.  She  offered  it,  as  the  commissioner  extended  his 
hand,  she  shrank  involuntarily,  and  once  more  pressed  the  cross  to 
her  quivering  lips.  Then,  raising  it  on  high,  as  if  to  call  ujiou 
Heaven  to  witness  the  sacrilege,  she  bowed  her  head  and  relin- 
quished it  forever. 

Perhaps  she  had  hoped  for  an  interposition  from  Heaven  ;  but 
alas  !  no  sign  was  given,  and  the  sacrifice  was  complete. 

The  priest  w-ho  had  addressed  the  crowd,  advanced  to  the  prioress. 

"  Whither  are  you  going,  my  daughter?"  said  he. 

The  prioress  raised  her  head,  and  stared  at  him  with  vacant, 
tearless  eyes. 

"We  must  go  into  the  wide,  wide  world,"  replied  she.  "The 
emperor  has  forbidden  us  to  serve  the  Lord. " 

"  The  emperor  intends  you  to  become  useful  members  of  societj, " 
said  a  voice  among  the  crowd.  "  The  emperor  intends  that  you  sliall 
cease  your  everlasting  prayers,  and  turn  your  useless  hands  to  some 
account.  Instead  of  living  on  your  knees,  he  intends  to  force  you 
to  become  honest  wives  and  mothers,  wlio  shall  be  of  some  use  to 
him  by  bearing  children,  as  3'ou  were  told  to  do  when  your  mother 
Eve  was  driven  from  her  paradise." 

Every  head  was  turned  in  eager  curiosity  to  discover  the  speaker 
of  these  bold  words  ;  but  in  vain,  he  could  not  l)e  identified. 


COUNT  PODSTADSKY'S  ESCORT.  557 

"But  how  are  you  going  to  live?"  asked  the  priest,  when  the 
murmurs  had  ceased. 

"  Tlie  emperor  has  given  us  a  pension  of  two  hundred  ducats, 
said  the  prioress,  gently. 

"But  that  will  not  maintain  you  without — " 

"It  will  maintain  honest  women  who  deserve  to  live,"  cried  the 
same  voice  that  had  spoken  before.  "Ask  the  people  around  you 
how  they  live,  and  whether  they  have  pensions  from  the  crown. 
And  I  should  like  to  know  whether  a  lazy  nun  is  any  better  than  a 
peasant's  wife?  And  if  you  are  afraid  of  the  world,  go  among  the 
Ursulines  who  serve  the  emperor  by  educating  children.  The 
Ursulines  are  not  to  be  suppressed." 

"  True, "  said  some  among  the  crowd  ;  "  why  should  they  not  work 
as  well  as  we,  or  why  do  they  not  go  among  the  Ursulines  and  make 
themselves  useful?" 

And  thus  were  the  sympathies  of  the  people  withdrawn  from  the 
unhappy  nuns.  They,  meanwhile,  went  their  way,  chanting  as 
they  walked  : 

"  Ciijus  aniniam  gementem,  eontristanten  et  dolentem  pertransivit 
gladhts. " 

While  the  Clarisserines  were  passing  from  sight,  the  people, 
always  swayed  by  the  controlling  influence  of  the  moment,  returned 
quietly  to  their  homes. 

Three  men  with  hats  drawn  over  their  brows,  pressed  through 
the  crowd,  and  followed  the  procession  at  some  distance. 

"  You  see, "  said  one  of  the  tliree,  "  how  a  few  words  were  suf- 
ficient to  turn  the  tide  of  the  people's  sympathies,  and  to  confound 
that  fanatic  priest  in  his  attempt  to  create  disturbance." 

"  Which  he  would  have  succeeded  in  doing  but  for  your  majesty — " 

"Hush,  Lacy,  hush  !     We  are  laboring  men,  nothing  more." 

"  Yes, "  growled  Lacy,  "  and  you  put  us  to  hard  labor,  too,  when 
you  embarked  in  this  dangerous  business.  It  was  a  very  bold  thing 
to  come  among  this  excited  multitude. " 

"I  was  determined  to  watch  the  people,  and  counteract,  if  possi- 
ble, the  efl'ect  of  the  sly  blackcoats  upon  my  subjects.  Was  it  not 
well  that  I  was  there  to  rescue  them  from  the  miseries  of  revolt?" 

"  Yes.  I  think  there  was  danger  at  one  time  that  mischief  would 
result  from  the  pious  comedy  of  the  prioress. " 

"To  be  sure  there  was,"  cried  the  emperor.  "But  this  time  I 
won  the  field  through  a  few  well-directed  words.  And  now  let  us 
go  and  see  the  show  at  the  two  other  convents.  Perhaps  we  may 
come  in  time  to  send  another  well-directed  arrow  in  the  midst  of  the 
sisterhoods. " 


CHAPTER    CXLV. 

COUNT    PODSTADSKY'S    ESCORT. 

"  You  promise  that  he  shall  remain  but  five  minutes  in  my  room, 
father?"  said  Rachel. 

"  I  give  you  my  word  that  he  shall  stay  just  long  enough  for  me 
to  complete  my  preparations  to  escort  him  home. " 

"  What  mean  you,  dear  father?  At  least  tell  me  what  you  intend 
to  do. " 


558  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"I  merely  intend  a  jest,  dear  child,"  said  Eskeles  Flies,  laugh- 
ing. "  A  jest  which  shall  announce  to  the  people  of  Vienna  that  the 
Jewish  banker  has  no  desire  to  receive  the  visits  of  the  Christian 
count.  Ah,  eleven  o'clock !  The  hour  for  your  interview.  Fare- 
well, my  daughter,  your  lover  comes. " 

The  banker  disappeared  through  a  tapestry-door,  and  scarcely  had 
he  closed  it  when  Count  Podstadsky  was  announced. 

Rachel  had  so  unconquerable  an  aversion  to  Podstadsky  that,  in- 
stead of  going  forward  to  greet  him,  she  actually  stepped  back  and 
raised  her  hand  as  if  to  ward  him  off.  But  the  count  was  not  easily 
repulsed. 

"At  last,  my  angel,"  said  he,  "my  hour  of  happiness  is  here— at 
last  you  are  mine.     And  I  am  the  happiest  of  mortals. " 

"  Who  tells  you  that  I  am  yours  ?"  said  Rachel,  still  retreating. 

"Yourself,  my  houri,  when  you  consent  to  receive  me  alone. 
How  shall  I  prove  to  you  the  extent  of  my  adoration  ?" 

"Oh,  you  can  easily  do  that, "  said  Rachel,  "by  becoming  a  Jew 
for  the  love  of  me. " 

At  the  idea  of  his  becoming  a  Jew,  Podstadsky  burst  out  into  a 
fit  of  laughter  ;  but  Rachel  affected  not  to  hear  it. 

"  You  know  that  by  becoming  a  Jew, "  continued  she,  "  you  would 
be  at  liberty  to  marry  me,  and  inherit  my  father's  ducats." 

At  mention  of  her  father's  wealth  Podstadsky  felt  that  he  had 
laughed  too  soon.  The  thought  of  the  banker's  millions  made  him 
feel  rather  grave.  They  wei'e  worth  any  thing  short  of  such  a  lesc 
noblesse  as  apostasy. 

"What  to  me  are  your  father's  ducats?"  cried  he,  vehemently. 
"  I  love  nothing  here  but  his  daughter,  and  my  love  is  sufficient  for 
me.  I  ask  nothing  but  the  priceless  treasure  of  your  heart.  Come, 
sweet  one,  come !" 

"Away  with  you  !"  cried  Rachel,  unable  to  endure  his  insolence 
longer.  "  If  I  have  permitted  you  to  sully  the  purity  of  my  home 
with  your  presence,  it  was  that  I  might  tell  you  once  for  all  how  I 
despise  you  !     Now,  begone,  sir. " 

"And  allow  me  to  accompany  you  home,"  said  a  mocking  voice 
behind ;  and  as  Podstadsky  turned  with  a  start  to  see  whence  it 
came,  he  met  the  fiery  black  eyes  of  Eskeles  Flies,  who  approached 
with  a  tall  wax-light  in  his  hand. 

The  count  trembled  inwardly,  but  recovering  his  self-possession, 
he  asked,  with  a  haughty  smile  :  "  Are  we  in  the  carnival,  and  do 
you  represent  the  Israelitish  god  of  love?" 

"Yes,  count,"  said  the  banker,  "and  his  torch  shall  light  you 
home,  lest  you  stumble  on  your  way,  and  fall  into  the  pit  of  dis- 
honor.    Come  and  receive  the  ovation  prepared  for  you." 

So  saying,  Eskeles  Flies  opened  the  door,  and  the  count  looked 
out  with  dismay. 

Tlie  long  hall  was  lined  on  both  sides  with  the  liveried  servants 
of  the  banker,  each  holding  in  his  hand  a  wax-light,  whose  yellow 
{lame  flared  to  and  fro,  as  the  air  from  the  open  door  below  came  in 
fitful  puffs  up  the  wide  marble  staircase. 

"Come, "said  the  banker,  advancing  with  his  flambeau.  Pod- 
stadsky hesitated.  If  his  sense  of  honor  was  dead,  his  vanity  was 
not ;  and  it  winced  at  the  slightest  touch  of  ridicule.  Was  there  no 
escape  from  tliis  absurd  escort?  He  looked  around  and  saw  no  hope 
of  rescue.     Behind  him  Rachel  had  locked  the  door,  and  the  servants 


THE  LAMPOON.  559 

were  so  closely  ranged  together  that  it  was  vain  to  attempt  a  passage 
through  that  living  wall  of  fire.  He  had  no  alternative  but  to  laugh 
derisively  and  step  into  the  ranks.  The  procession  moved  on,  and 
gathered  strength  as  it  moved  ;  for  on  the  staircase,  in  the  lower 
hall,  and  at  the  front  of  the  house,  they  were  joined  by  throng  after 
throng,  each  man  of  which,  like  the  commander-in-chief,  was 
armed  with  a  flambeau.  This  was  bad  enough  of  itself,  but  the 
count's  body-guard  were  all  in  a  titter,  and  every  man  enjoyed  the 
jest  except  himself. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  street,  and  what  was  the  rage 
and  mortification  of  the  proud  Austrian  grandee,  when  he  saw  that 
curiosity  had  drawn  thither  a  concourse  of  people,  who  kept  up  with 
the  procession,  wondering  what  on  earth  could  be  the  meaning  of 
it!* 

"  See, "  cried  one,  "  Herr  Eskeles  Flies  has  caught  a  marten  in  his 
hen-roost  and  is  lighting  him  home." 

"And  the  marten  is  the  fine  Count  Podstadsky-Liechtenstein," 
cried  another.  "I  know  him.  He  rejoices  in  the  title  of  'woman- 
killer.  '  Only  look  how  he  sneaks  along  as  the  tribe  of  Israel  are 
dogging  him  home !" 

"The  Israelites  are  escorting  him  home,"  jeered  the  multitude, 
and  the  procession  moved  on,  never  stopping  until  it  reached  the 
count's  own  hotel.  Once  there,  Eskeles  Flies,  in  a  loud  voice,  bade 
him  adieu,  and  requested  to  know  whether  he  should  accompany 
him  farther. 

"No,"  replied  Count  Podstadsky,  trembling  with  passion,  "and 
you  shall  answer  to  me  for  this  outrage.  We  shall  see  whether  the 
unbelieving  Jew  can  mock  the  Christian  with  impunity  !" 

"Accuse  me  before  the  public  tribunals,"  answered  the  banker, 
"  and  I  shall  enter  my  complaint  against  you. " 

"Indeed!"  said  Podstadsky,  contemptuously.  "The  Jew  will  be 
allowed  to  accuse  an  Austrian  nobleman,  will  he?" 

"Yes,  by  the  God  of  Israel,  he  will,"  replied  Eskeles  Flies,  so  loud 
that  his  voice  was  heard  by  the  people  around.  "  Yes,  thanks  to  the 
emperor,  his  subjects  before  the  law  are  all  equal,  and  Jew  and 
Christian  are  alike  amenable  to  its  judgments.  Long  live  Joseph 
the  Second,  the  father  of  his  people  !" 

"Long  live  the  father  of  his  people!"  shouted  the  fickle  multi- 
tude ;  and  glad  that  the  attention  of  the  crowd  had  been  diverted 
from  himself,  Count  Podstadsky-Liechtenstein  slunk  away  to  rumi- 
nate over  the  mortifying  occurrences  of  the  morning. 


CHAPTER    CXLVI. 

THE  LAMPOON. 

The  emperor,  with  his  confidential  secretary,  had  been  at  work 
through  the  entire  night.  Day  had  dawned,  and  still  he  wrote  on, 
nor  seemed  to  be  conscious  of  the  hour.  In  his  restless  zeal,  he  felt 
no  fatigue,  no  exhaustion,  nor  yet  any  excitement,  and  not  until  the 
last  document  had  been  read  and  signed,  did  he  rise  from  his  chair 

♦This  scene  is  historical.    See  "Letters of  a  French  Traveller,"  vol.  i.,  p.  405. 
FriedeFs  "  Letters  from  Vienna,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  30, 


560  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS,  COURT.  . 

to  take  a  few  turns  around  the  room,  while  Gunther  was  sorting  the 
papers,  and  placing  them  in  a  portfolio. 

"Giinther, "  said  the  emperor,  "what  is  the  matter?  You  look 
pale  and  suffering. " 

Giinther  raised  his  head,  and  smiled.  "Nothing,  sire,  is  the 
matter,  but  want  of  rest.     A  few  hours'  sleep  will  restore  me." 

"Not  so,  Gunther;  you  belie  yourself  when  you  say  so,  for  never 
in  my  life  have  I  seen  such  an  indefatigable  worker  as  you.  Ah  ! 
you  look  down,  so  that  I  know  you  are  not  frank  with  me.  Come, 
have  you  no  confidence  in  me?" 

"  Oh,  sire,  I  have  the  most  unbounded  confidence  in  your  good- 
ness ;  but  since  you  force  me  to  speak,  I  am  uneasy  about  yourself. " 

"How  so,  Giinther?" 

"Because,  your  majesty  strides  forward  in  your  projects  of  re- 
form without  the  least  apprehension  of  the  danger  that  attends  such 
changes.  You  rush  through  the  flames  without  ever  dreaming  that 
they  may  some  day  consume  you. " 

The  emperor  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Always  the  same  song — 
an  echo  of  Lacy  and  Rosenberg.  I  have  no  time  to  temporize  as  you 
would  advise  me  to  do.  Who  knows  how  long  I  shall  live  to  carry 
out  my  own  free  will?" 

"  Certainly,  if  your  majesty  works  as  you  have  done  of  late,  your 
chance  for  life  is  not  very  great.  You  seem  to  forget  that  mind  is 
subordinate  to  matter — not  matter  to  mind — that  physical  nature 
must  have  her  rights,  and  no  man  can  withstand  her  exactions. 
Pardon  me  these  bold  words,  sire,  but  if  I  speak  at  all,  I  must  speak 
the  truth.  You  have  begun  a  gigantic  edifice,  and  if  you  die,  it 
must  remain  forever  incomplete. " 

"  For  that  very  reason,  I  must  complete  it  myself ;  for,  indeed, 
Giinther,  you  are  right — when  I  die,  I  leave  no  man  worthy  to  suc- 
ceed to  my  stupendous  undertakings.  I  shall,  therefore,  live  until 
I  have  accomplished  them  all. " 

"Then  your  majesty  must  work  less,"  exclaimed  Giinther, 
warmly.  "You  do  not  believe  that  in  pleading  for  you,  sire,  I  give 
one  thought  to  mj'self,  for  nothing  is  too  laborious  for  me  when  I 
work  for  my  emperor. " 

Josepli  laid  his  hand  softly  upon  Giinther 's  shoulder.  "  I  believe 
you,  Giinther.  I  esteem  you  as  one  of  my  best  friends,  and  well  you 
know  that  from  you  I  have  no  political  secrets. " 

"  I  would  sooner  die  than  betray  your  majesty,  even  unwittingly, " 
said  Giinther,  looking  with  his  large,  honest  eyes  into  the  emperor's 
face. 

"I  know  it,  Giinther;  but  as  you  enjoy  my  confidence  without 
reserve,  you  ought  to  know  that  I  have  too  much  to  do  to  think  of  rest. 
Oh,  it  would  be  dreadful  for  me  to  die  before  my  structure  is  com- 
plete !  Giinther,  Giinther,  the  priests  would  transform  my  fairy 
palace  into  a  gloomy  church  ;  and  from  its  towers,  in  lieu  of  the 
noble  clock  which  is  to  strike  the  hour  of  reformation  for  my  people, 
would  frown  the  CROSS  that  is  the  symbol  of  the  unenlightened  past. 
Oh,  let  me  not  hear  in  my  dying  moments  the  crash  of  tlie  temple 
I  would  rear  to  Truth  !" 

"Then  recreate  your  mind,  sire,  with  literature  or  art.  It  is  long 
since  the  speaking  tones  of  your  violoncello  have  been  heard  in  the 
paLace. " 

"Very  true,  Giinther,  but  I  cannot  invite  the  Muses  into   my 


THE  LAMPOON.  561 

study.  A  prince  has  no  right  to  associate  with  such  frivolous  ladies, 
for  he  is  not  on  earth  to  pass  away  time.  The  King  of  Prussia  heads 
a  royal  sect  who  devote  themselves  to  authorship.  The  Empress  of 
Russia  follows  after  him  with  Voltaire  in  her  hand.  I  cannot  emu- 
late their  literary  greatness.  I  read  to  learn,  and  travel  to  enlarge 
my  ideas  ;  and  I  flatter  myself  that  as  I  encourage  men  of  letters,  I 
do  them  a  greater  service  than  I  would,  were  I  to  sit  at  a  desk  and 
help  them  to  weave  sonnets.  *  So  let  us  eschew  Apollo  and  his  light- 
footed  companions  ;  I  aim  to  be  nothing  but  an  imperial  statesman. 
But, "  continued  the  emperor,  frowning,  "  I  get  little  sympathy  from 
my  subjects.  Counsellors,  nobles,  burghers,  priests,  all  heap  obsta- 
cle upon  obstacle  in  my  path,  and  the  work  advances  slowly.  The 
revenues,  too,  are  inadequate  to  the  state.  The  financial  affairs  of 
the  crown  are  disordered,  and  it  is  only  by  the  strictest  economy  that 
I  am  able  to  sustain  the  army.  The  people  call  me  a  miser,  because 
Maria  Theresa's  prodigality  of  expenditure  forces  upon  me  measures 
of  retrenchment,  and  necessitates  unusual  expedients  for  the 
raising  of  funds. " 

"  Which  unhappily  were  extorted  from  convents  and  shrines. " 

"  Unhappily  !  Happily,  you  mean  to  say.  The  treasures  which 
were  wasted  on  convent-chapels  and  shrines,  have  saved  us  from 
bankruptcy  ;  and  God  will  look  down  with  favor  upon  the  sacrifice 
which  dead  superstition  has  made  to  living  love,  and  will  bestow  a 
blessing  upon  the  work  of  my  hands !  True,  those  heroes  of  dark- 
ness, the  monks  and  priests,  will  cry  Anathema  !  and  the  earth  will 
be  filled  with  their  howls. " 

"  Like  that  which  greeted  Alcides,  when  he  stormed  the  gates  of 
Tartarus,  "  said  Gunther,  smiling. 

"You  are  right.  The  work  is  worthy  of  Alcides,  but  with  the 
blessing  of  God  it  shall  be  done.  Little  care  I  for  the  wail  of  nuns 
or  the  groans  of  priests  ;  let  them  shriek  and  tear  their  hair,  or, 
if  they  like  it  better,  let  them  vent  their  spleen  in  lampoons  and  cari- 
catures.    See,  Giinther,  what  a  compliment  I  received  yesterday. " 

And  the  emperor  drew  from  his  escritoire  a  paper  which  he  un- 
folded. "Look  at  this.  It  takes  off  one  of  my  great  crimes.  You 
know  I  have  deprived  the  court  of  the  privilege  of  living  in  the 
palace,  and  I  have  given  them  wherewith  to  find  lodgings  in  the 
city.  Here  go  the  ladies  with  their  bundles  under  their  arms,  and 
the  lord  high-steward  has  a  broom  sweeping  after  them  as  they  go. 
This  charming  individual  in  the  corner  with  a  hunting-whip  is 
myself.  And  here  is  the  pith  of  the  joke.  '  Rooms  to  let  here.  In- 
quire of  the  proprietor  on  the  first  floor. '  f  What  do  you  think  of 
it?" 

"Abominable!  Inconceivable !"  ejaculated  Gunther.  "As  un- 
just as  it  is  stinging." 

"  It  does  not  sting  me.  I  have  a  sound  hide.  When  it  itches  it 
is  cured  by  scratching.:!:  Here  is  anotlier  pasquinade.  It  was 
thrown  before  my  horse's  feet  as  I  was  riding  in  the  park." 

"' Joseph  Premier,  aimable  et  charmant:  Joseph  SecoJide,  scorpion 
et  tyran. '  " 

"How  can  your  majesty  laugh  at  such  unparalleled  insolence?" 
cried  the  indignant  secretary. 

*The  emperor's  own  words.    "  Letters  of  Joseph,"  p.  57. 
tHubner,  i.,  p.  190. 
t  Joseph's  own  words. 


562  JOSEPH   II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  No  one  can  deny  that  I  have  stung  priests  and  nuns, "  said  Joseph, 
laughing,  "so  they  are  welcome  to  roar,  since  their  tongues  are  the 
only  weapons  wherewith  they  may  revenge  themselves  upon  their 
tyrant.  As  I  have  proclaimed  freedom  of  speech  and  press,  you  see 
they  take  advantage  of  the  privilege." 

"Well,  if  your  majesty  takes  so  magnanimous  a  view  of  these 
insulting  lampoons,"  said  Giinther,  drawing  a  paper  from  his 
pocket,  "  I  must  show  you  one  which  yesterday  was  posted  on  the 
wall  of  the  Konigskloster. " 

"So  the  Konigskloster  irritates  the  servants  of  the  lord,  does  it?" 
laughed  Joseph.  "They  cannot  forgive  me  for  selling  it  to  the 
banker  Flies,  to  transfigure  into  a  Jewish  palace  ! — Well,  let  us  see 
the  pasquinade !" 

"Sire,  my  tongue  refuses  to  pronounce  the  words,"  replied 
Giinther,  handing  it  to  the  emperor. 

"  Nay,  you  must  accustom  your  tongue  to  pronounce  them,  for 
we  are  likely  to  have  many  more  of  the  same  sort  to  read.  So  go  on, 
and  speak  out  boldly. " 

The  emperor  threw  himself  into  an  arm-chair,  and  making  him- 
self comfortable,  i^repared  to  listen. 

The  lampoon  denounced  him  as  the  persecutor  of  the  brides  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  enemy  of  the  chui'ch.  It  accused  him  of  having  con- 
verted a  holy  temple  into  the  abode  of  sin,  that  he  might  gratify  his 
greed  for  money. 

When  Giinther  had  concluded,  he  cried  out  impatiently,  "This 
time  at  least  your  majesty  will  show  your  enemies  that  forbearance 
has  its  limits,  and  that  the  liberty  of  the  press  shall  not  degenerate 
into  license. " 

"  By  no  means.  That  would  look  as  if  I  were  afraid.  I  commis- 
sion you  to  have  the  lampoon  reprinted  and  to  expose  it  for  sale  in 
the  bookstores  at  six  kreutzers  a  copy,  the  proceeds  to  be  given  to 
the  poor. "  * 

"Oh  that  your  majesty's  enemies  were  here  to  sink  with  shame 
at  your  feet,  and  beg  your  forgiveness  !"  cried  Giinther. 

"  Hush, "  said  Joseph.  "  Were  my  enemies  to  hear  you,  they 
would  liken  me  to  other  princes,  who  make  a  parade  of  their  good 
qualities  so  that  flatterers  may  immortalize  them  in  laudatory 
dithyrambics. — But  the  time  for  chatting  and  resting  has  expired," 
continued  Joseph,  rising  from  his  chair.  "  The  labors  of  the  day 
call  me.  I  must  go  to  receive  my  petitioners,  who  must  be  weary 
with  waiting,  for  I  am  a  quarter  of  an  hour  behind  the  time. " 


CHAPTER    CXLVII. 

THE  PETITIONERS. 

The  wide  corridor  in  which  Joseph  was  accustomed  receive  his 
petitioners  was  crowded.  People  of  all  ages  and  conditions  were 
there,  waiting  with  trembling  impatience  the  appeai'ance  of  the 
emperor,  who  received  the  ajiplications  of  his  subjects  every  day 
from  nine  o'clock  until  twelve.  Suddenly  a  commotion  was  per- 
ceptible among  the  crowd,  and  a  i)ressiu'e  was  felt  toward  the  door 
which  led  to  the  cabinet  of  the  emperor.     The  ears  of  those  who 

^  Ilisliirical. 


THE  PETITIONERS.  563 

have  suits  to  urge  are  keen ;   and  every  one  of  that  motley  throng 
heard  the  footsteps  of  him  who  held  their  destinies  in  his  hand. 

The  door  opened,  and  Joseph  was  before  them.  At  once  every 
hand  that  held  a  paper  was  eagerly  stretched  forward.  The  emperor 
went  from  one  to  another,  and,  while  he  collected  their  petitions, 
entered  into  friendly  converse  with  the  applicants. 

The  last  petitioner  was  an  old  man  in  the  garb  of  a  Hungarian 
peasant.  His  white  hair  fell  in  locks  from  beneath  his  wide- 
brimmed  hat  of  dark  brown,  and  the  cloak  which  was  thrown  care- 
lessly over  his  stalwart  shoulders  was  embroidered  with  shells  and 
silver  spangles.  His  sun-burnt  face  was  free  from  the  Runic  char- 
acters which  the  slow  finger  of  Time  is  apt  to  trace  upon  the  brow  of 
the  human  race  ;  and  but  for  the  color  of  his  hair,  he  would  have 
been  mistaken  for  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life. 

The  emperor  was  favorably  struck  with  his  bearing,  and  smiled 
with  more  than  usual  benignity. 

"Whence  come  you?"  said  he. 

"From  Hungary,  sire, "  replied  the  peasant,  with  a  smile  that 
revealed  two  rows  of  regular,  white  teeth.  "  I  was  one  week  on  my 
journey ;  at  night  the  open  field  my  bed,  and  by  day  a  drink  of 
water  more  than  once  my  only  breakfast. " 

"You  must  have  had  important  business  in  Vienna." 

"Yes,  sire.     I  was  sent  with  this  petition  to  your  majesty." 

"  It  must  be  urgent,  to  have  induced  you  to  travel  so  far. " 

"Urgent,  indeed,  sire.  I  promised  the  peasants  of  our  district 
to  give  it  into  your  majesty's  own  hand.  It  has  the  name  of  every 
man  in  the  district ;  but  if  I  had  had  time  to  go  around  with  it,  I 
might  have  brought  with  me  the  name  of  every  peasant  in  Hun- 
gary. It  was  arranged  that  I  should  present  the  petition  this  morn- 
ing, and  now,  while  we  stand  here,  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
at  home  is  praying  for  my  success. " 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?  Speak,  and  if  possible,  I  will  grant 
your  petition. " 

"Then,  your  majesty,  read  it  aloud,  that  I  may  say  to  my 
brethren,  that  our  cry  of  distress  has  reached  the  imperial  ear. " 

Joseph  smiled,  and  opening  the  paper,  read  aloud  : 

"  Compassionate  emperor  !  Four  days  of  hard  labor  as  socmen  ; 
the  fifth  day  at  the  fisheries  ;  the  sixth  day  following  our  lords  in 
the  hunt— the  seventh  day  is  the  Lord's.  Judge,  then,  whether  we 
are  able  to  pay  our  taxes. " 

"  Yes,  yes, "  murmured  the  man  to  himself,  "  he  cannot  say  that 
if  we  are  oppressed,  he  knows  nothing  of  it." 

"  I  will  not  say  so,  my  friend, "  said  the  emperor,  with  emotion. 
"  The  whole  history  of  your  wrongs  is  written  in  these  few  touching 
lines.  I  know  that  you  are  oppressed,  and  that,  when  you  sink  with 
exhaustion  at  your  tasks,  you  are  roused  with  the  lash.  I  know  that 
you  are  treated  like  cattle,  that  you  have  neither  property  nor  rights, 
and  that  agriculture  suffers  sorely  from  the  obstacles  which  your 
masters  place  in  your  paths.  I  know  all ;  and  by  the  God  above  us, 
to  whom  your  wives  and  children  are  even  now  at  prayer,  I  swear  to 
free  the  Hungarian  serf  from  bondage  !" 

"To  free  the  Hungarian  serf  !"  shouted  the  peasant.  "Do  I  hear 
aright?  Does  your  majesty  promise  freedom  to  the  Hungarian 
serf?" 

"  As  God  hears  me,  I  will  free  him, "  replied  the  emperor,  sol- 


564  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

emnly.  "  Servitude  shall  cease,  and  free  socage  shall  replace  villein- 
age. Your  tax-bill  shall  be  revised,  and  your  rights  guaranteed  by 
the  crown.  If,  after  this,  you  are  oppressed,  come  confidently  to 
me,  and  your  tyrants  shall  be  punished  ;  for  under  my  reign  all  men 
shall  be  equal  before  the  law. " 

The  peasant  sank  on  his  knees  and  looked  up  with  glistening  eyes. 
"  Oh,  my  lord  and  emperor, "  said  he,  "  I  had  heard  of  tears  of  joy, 
but,  until  to-day,  I  knew  not  what  they  meant.  I  have  been 
scourged  for  refiising  to  kneel  to  my  lord  ;  but  I  bend  the  knee  to 
you,  for  I  feel  that  you  are  a  mighty  sovereign  and  a  merciful 
father  to  your  people.  God  bless  you  for  the  words  by  which  you 
have  recognized  our  right  to  live  and  to  be  free  !" 

He  bent  down  and  kissed  the  emperor's  feet ;  then  rising,  he  said 
"Farewell,  gracious  lord  of  Hungary.     I  must  return  home." 

"Will  you  not  remain  a  day  or  two  to  see  the  beauties  of 
Vienna '?"  asked  the  emperor. 

"No,  your  majesty.  I  carry  too  much  joy  with  me  to  tarry  on 
my  way  ;  and  what  could  I  see  in  Vienna  to  rival  the  snow-white 
mountains  that  mirror  themselves  in  the  blue  lakes  of  Hungary?" 

"Then,  at  least,  take  this  purse  to  defray  your  expenses." 

"  No,  your  majesty,  I  cannot  take  gold  to  defray  the  expenses  of 
a  holy  pilgrimage.  "Farewell !  And  may  the  blessings  of  a  grateful 
people  be  echoed  for  you  in  heaven  !" 

The  emperor  laid  his  hand  upon  the  peasant's  shoulder. 

"  Tell  me  the  name  of  my  Hungarian  friend  !" 

"  My  name?    It  is  Horja, *  sire. " 

"  Farewell,  then,  Horja  ;  let  me  hear  from  you. " 


CHAPTER    CXLVIII. 

THE  PETITIONERS. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  Horja,  the  emperor  continued  his 
rotinds,  but  no  more  petitions  were  presented.  Here  and  there,  how- 
ever, was  heard  a  request  for  an  audience,  which  Joseph  granted, 
and  then  retired  to  his  cabinet,  leaving  the  door  open. 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  walk  in, "  said  he  to  the  lady,  who  was 
in  advance  of  the  others.  She  obeyed,  and  the  emperor,  closing  the 
door,  took  a  seat  at  his  escritoire. 

"  Now,  madam,  I  am  ready  to  hear  you ;  but,  as  there  are  nine 
persons  to  follow,  I  must  request  you  to  be  brief.  What  is  your 
name?" 

"  I  am  the  widow  of  the  President  von  Kahlbaum. " 
"He  was  a  worthy  man.     Have  you  any  children,  madam?" 
"Yes,  your  maj(»sty  ;  I  have  two  daughters  and  a  son." 
"Two  (laughters?   "l  once  had  a  little  maiden  of  my  own,  but  she 
is  dead,"  saicl  the  emperor,  sadly.     "  How  can  I  serve  you  and  your 
children?" 

"Oh,  sire,  the  fearful  ordinance  by  which  the  pensions  from  her 
late  majesty's  privy-i>urse  were  withdrawn,  has  ruined  me.  I  be- 
seech of  you,  sire,  restore  to  mo  my  pension  extraordinary." 

"Are  you  not  aware  that  the  pensions  extraordinary  are 
abolished?" 

*  Unhappy  Horja  1    This  sentimental  interview  cost  him  his  hfe. 


THE  PETITIONERS.  565 

"Yes,  sire;  but  through  your  majesty's  liberality,  I  hope  to  re- 
tain the  pension  I  held  from  the  empress.  The  loss  of  it  heightens 
my  grief  for  the  death  of  my  husband,  and  makes  life  unendurable. 
Without  it  I  should  have  to  part  witli  my  carriage,  with  a  portion  of 
my  household,  and  live  in  complete  retirement.  I  am  sure  that  your 
majesty's  own  sense  of  jvistice  will  plead  for  me." 

"Justice  is  the  motive  power  of  all  my  actions,  madam,"  replied 
the  emperor,  curtly,  "and  for  that  very  reason  you  cannot  retain 
3'our  pension. " 

"Sire,  I  am  sorely  stricken.  The  merits  of  my  husband — my 
position — " 

"  Your  husband's  merits  have  earned  you  the  pension  you  already 
receive  from  the  crown  ;  and  as  for  your  position,  that  can  in  no 
way  concern  me.  I  grant  that  your  loss  is  great ;  but  your  special 
pension  will  maintain  three  poor  families,  and  I  cannot  allow  you 
to  receive  it  longer. " 

"Alas  !"  cried  the  lady,  "what  are  my  daughters  to  do?" 

"They  can  become  good  house-keepers  or  governesses,  if  they 
have  received  good  educations. " 

"  Impossible,  sire.  My  daughers  are  of  noble  birth,  and  they  can- 
not descend  to  the  hiuniliation  of  earning  a  living." 

"Why  not?  I  am  sure  I  earn  my  living,  and  earn  it  by  hard 
work,  too.  No  one  is  too  good  to  work  ;  and  since  the  aristocracy 
cannot  shield  their  children  from  want,  it  is  clear  that  they  cannot 
free  them  from  the  necessity  of  labor. " 

"  Then,  your  majesty,  have  mercy  upon  my  son — the  only  son  of 
a  man  of  noble  extraction. " 

"What  profession  has  he  chosen?" 

"  He  wishes  to  be  an  officer  in  tlie  army  ;  but  he  was  so  severely 
dealt  with  in  his  examination,  that  he  has  not  been  able  to  obtain  a 
commission.  Oh,  your  majesty,  I  beseech  of  you,  grant  him  a  com- 
mand in  the  infantry !" 

"  Madam, "  cried  the  emperor,  impatiently,  "  a  man  may  be  the 
son  of  a  distinguished  father  without  having  the  slightest  claim  to 
serve  as  an  ofticer.  As  your  son  was  not  able  to  stand  his  examina- 
tion, he  must  content  himself  with  being  the  'son  of  a  man  of  noble 
extraction.'  Excuse  me,  but  time  is  limited.  I  regret  to  refuse 
your  requests,  but  justice  compels  me  to  do  so. " 

The  lady  burst  into  tears,  and  making  her  inclination  to  the  em- 
peror, left  the  room.  The  latter,  following  her,  said,  "Let  the  next 
petitioner  advance." 

This  was  an  old  hussar,  a  captain  of  cavalry,  with  lofty  bearing 
and  snow-white  beard.     He  came  in,  making  a  military  salute. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  my  friend?"  asked  Joseph. 

"I  come  to  ask  of  your  majesty  not  to  deprive  me  of  the  pension 
extraordinary  which  the  empress  of  blessed  memory  bestowed  upon 
me  from  her  privy  purse,"  said  the  old  soldier,  bluntly. 

"  Oh,  another  pension  extraordinary !"  said  the  emperor,  with  a 
laugh.  "  That  cannot  be,  captain.  The  privy  purse  of  the  empress, 
which,  in  the  goodness  of  her  heart,  was  thrown  indiscriminately  to 
all  who  asked  for  alms,  this  purse  exists  no  longei-.  It  has  a  large 
hole  in  it,  and  its  contents  have  all  run  out. " 

The  old  hussar  gave  a  grim  look  to  the  emperor,  and  raised  his 
poiuke.  Pointing  with  his  finger  to  three  wide,  purple  scars  upon 
his  head,  he  said : 


566  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Sire,  my  head  is  somewhat  in  the  condition  of  your  privy-purse, 
it  has  several  holes  in  it.  They  were  made  by  your  majesty's 
enemies." 

"  To  stop  such  holes  as  those  is  my  sacred  duty, "  said  Joseph, 
smiling,  "and  enough  remains  yet  in  the  bottom  of  the  privy-purse 
to  satisfy  the  wants  of  a  brave  officer,  who  has  served  me  to  his  own 
prejudice.  Forgive  my  refusal.  The  petition  which  you  wear  on 
your  head  is  more  eloquent  than  words,  and  your  pension  shall  be 
returned  to  you. " 

"  I  thank  your  majesty, "  said  the  captain,  and  with  another  stiff 
salute,  he  marched  out. 

The  emperor  looked  after  him,  laughing  heartily. 

As^ie  disappeared,  a  pale,  delicate  woman  came  forward,  accom- 
panied by  several  young  children,  two  of  which  were  hiding  their 
heads  in  her  skirt.  The  group  filled  up  the  door  like  a  picture,  and 
the  childi'en  clung  so  to  the  pallid  mother  that  she  could  not  advance 
a  step. 

"As  you  cannot  come  to  me,  I  will  go  to  you, "  said  the  emperor, 
contemplating  them  with  a  benevolent  smile.  "Give  me  your 
petition,  madam. " 

"  These  are  my  petitions,  your  majesty, "  said  the  woman  jioint- 
ing  to  her  children.  "  My  husband  served  for  many  years  in  the 
twelfth  regiment,  and  died  of  the  wounds  he  received  in  the  Bavarian 
war.     He  lef '  me  nothing  but  these  orphans." 

The  emperor  looked  kindly  at  the  little  golden  heads  that  were 
peeping  from  among  the  folds  of  their  mother's  dress,  and  a  cloud 
came  over  his  face.  "  You  grieve  for  your  poverty,  poor  woman, " 
said  he,  "and  know  not  how  I  envy  your  riches.  How  many  mill- 
ions would  I  give  if  one  of  those  children  were  mine  !  Children  are 
a  great  blessing. " 

"Yes,  sire,  when  they  have  fathers  to  work  for  them." 

"I  will  be  their  father,"  said  Joseph,  and  at  the  sound  of  these 
loving  words,  the  children  raised  their  bashful  heads,  to  steal  a  look 
at  the  speaker.  "Come,  boys, "  continued  he,  offering  his  hand, 
"  will  any  of  you  be  soldiers?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  replied  the  two  eldest,  standing  erect  and  making 
the  military  salute. 

"That  is  right.  You  are  brave  fellows,  and  if  you  behave  well, 
you  shall  belong  to  my  body-guard. — Come  to-morrow,"  continued 
he  to  the  mother,  "and  the  lord-chancellor  will  attend  to  the  main- 
tenance and  education  of  your  four  eldest.  Meanwhile,  you  shall 
have  a  pension  for  yourself  and  the  youngest.  In  a  few  years  I  will 
do  as  much  for  the  little  one  there.  Be  punctual  in  your  visit  to  the 
chancery.     You  will  be  received  at  ten  o'clock." 

"God  reward  y<mr  majesty  !"  faltered  the  happy  mother.  "Oh, 
my  children,  my  dear  childnm,  the  emperor  is  the  father  of  the 
orphan  !  Reward  your  gracious  sovereign  by  being  good,  and  pray 
for  him  with  all  your  hearts  !" 

With  these  words  the  woman  courtesied  and  withdrew,  and  the 
audience  for  that  day  was  at  an  end. 

"And  pray  for  him  witli  all  your  hearts, "  whispered  the  emperor. 
"May  God  hear  the  petitions  of  tliese  innocents!  Perchance  tliey 
may  weigh  against  the  cin'scs  of  others.  They  are  the  little  roses 
which  I  sometimes  find  beneath  my  crown  of  thorns.  But  away 
with  sentiment !     I  have  no  time  to  indulge  in  heart-reveries.     My 


THE  LADY  PATRONESS.  567 

vocation  is  to  work.  Here  is  a  portfolio  filled  with  petitions. 
Giinther  must  helji  me  to  examine  them. " 

He  rang  the  bell,  and  Giinther  seated  himself  and  went  to  work. 
Meanwhile,  the  emperor  had  taken  up  one  of  the  papers  and  was 
reading  it.     Suddenly  he  put  it  down  and  began  to  laugh. 

"Listen,  Giinther,"  said  he,  "listen  to  this  touching  appeal. 
One  of  the  discharged  counsellors  orders  me  to  give  him  a  larger 
pension  that  he  may  live  in  a  manner  befitting  his  position.  Now 
hear  the  conclusion  of  the  petition.  '  Our  emperor  is  a  poor  callow 
mouse. '  "  * 

"And  your  majesty  can  laugh  at  such  insolence!"  exclaimed 
Giinther,  coloring  wih  indignation. 

"  Yes,  I  do, "  replied  Joseph.  "  Nothing  can  be  franker  and  more 
to  the  point. " 

"  And  I,  pardon  me,  sire,  think  that  the  writer  of  this  insolent 
letter  should  be  severely — " 

"Nay,"  interrupted  the  emperor.  "You  would  not  have  me 
punish  him  for  being  man  enough  to  say  to  my  face  what  thousands 
say  of  me  behind  my  back,  would  you?  Now,  I  am  so  disinclined 
to  punish  him  that  I  intend  to  increase  his  pension  just  because  he 
is  an  honest,  plain-spoken  fellow.  You  need  not  make  such  a 
grimace,  Gtinther.  If  you  feel  badly,  console  yourself  with  your 
work. " 

The  emperor  seated  himself  at  the  table  and  went  on  looking 
over  his  petitions,  occasionally  murmuring  to  himself,  "Our  em- 
peror is  a  poor,  callow  mouse  !" 


CHAPTER    CXLIX. 

THE      LADY      PATRONESS. 

The  days  of  the  Countess  Baillou  glided  away  in  one  continued 
round  of  pleasure.  She  was  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  at  concert,  ball, 
or  festival.  Even  women  ceased  to  envy  the  conquering  beauty,  and 
seemed  to  think  it  just  that  all  mankind  should  succumb  to  her  un- 
paralleled attractions.  The  emperor  had  shared  the  common  enthu- 
siasm, and,  at  a  ball  given  by  Prince  Esterhazy,  had  danced  twice 
with  the  countess.  Those  therefore  who,  through  their  rank  or 
station,  were  ambitious  of  the  emperor's  presence  at  their  enter- 
tainments, hastened  one  and  all  to  issue  pressing  invitations  to  the 
enchantress  of  whom  their  sovereign  had  said  that  she  was  the  most 
fascinating  woman  in  Vienna. 

Count  Podstadsky-Liechtenstein  was  about  to  give  a  ball,  and  the 
Countess  Baillou  had  consented  to  receive  his  guests.  It  would  per- 
haps have  been  more  natural  that  the  mother  of  the  count  should 
play  the  hostess  on  this  occasion,  but  it  was  known  that  the  old 
couple  were  at  variance  with  their  only  son  ;  and  the  more  lavish 
he  grew  in  his  expenditure,  the  more  penurious  became  his  parents. 
The  avarice  of  the  latter  was  as  well  known  as  the  extravagance  of 
the  former,  and  whenever  there  was  a  new  anecdote  current,  illus- 
trative of  the  prodigality  of  the  son,  another  was  related  to  exem- 
plify the  increasing  parsimony  of  the  father. 

It  was  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  bewitching  countess  should 
„_  *Hubner,  i.,p.  199. 


568  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

have  been  selected  to  preside  over  the  ball  given  by  her  aristocratic 
friend.  Everybody  was  delighted.  The  emperor  was  to  be  there, 
and  it  was  to  be  the  most  magnificent  entertainment  of  the  season. 
Long  before  the  hour  fixed  for  the  arrival  of  the  guests,  the  street 
before  the  count's  palace  was  tlironged  with  people,  eager  to  obtain 
a  glance  at  any  thing  appertaining  to  the  fairy  spectacle.  While 
they  were  peering  through  tlie  illuminated  vvindows  at  a  wildei'ness 
of  flowers,  mirrors,  silk,  and  velvet,  a  carriage  drawn  by  four  splen- 
did horses  came  thundering  down  the  street,  and  drew  up  before  the 
door  of  the  palace.  Two  footmen  in  sky-blue  velvet  picked  out  with 
silver,  leaped  down  to  open  the  door,  and  in  a  trice  the  large  portals 
of  the  palace  were  thrown  open,  and  a  rich  carpet  rolled  to  the  car- 
riage-door, while  six  liveried  servants  ranged  themselves  on  either 
side. 

And  now  from  the  carriage  emerged  the  lady  patroness,  resplen- 
dent in  silver  gauze,  and  diamonds  that  glittered  like  a  constellation 
just  fallen  from  the  heavens.  The  people,  enraptured  by  the  beauty 
of  the  countess,  gave  vent  to  their  admiration  without  stint.  As  she 
reached  the  top  of  the  marble  steps,  she  turned  and  smiled  upon  her 
worshippers,  whereupon  they  shouted  as  an  audience  is  apt  do  at  the 
appearance  of  a  favorite  prima  donna. 

In  the  midst  of  this  applause,  the  lady  entered  the  liotel,  and 
until  the  door  closed  and  shut  out  the  enchanted  scene  within,  the 
crowd  watclied  her  graceful  form  as  it  glided  along  followed  by  a 
train  of  lackeys.  Count  Podstadsky  came  forward  to  meet  her  with 
ceremonious  courtesy.  They  entered  the  gay  saloons,  but,  as  if  led 
by  one  common  impulse,  both  traversed  the  long  suite  of  apartments 
in  silence,  and  approached  a  door  which  led  into  a  small  boudoir 
evidently  not  lit  up  for  the  occasion.  Once  within,  the  door  was 
closed,  and  the  purple  xeWet  portiere  was  dropped  before  it. 

"  Do  not  be  afraid, "  said  the  countess,  with  a  bewitching  smile, 
"  we  are  alone.  You  are  at  liberty  to  congi-atulate  me  upon  my  ap- 
pearance, for  I  see  by  your  eyes  that  you  are  dying  to  tell  me  how 
beautiful  I  am." 

"  Neither  eyes  nor  tongue  could  give  expression  to  a  hundredtli 
part  of  the  rapture  which  my  heart  feels  at  your  approach,  Ara- 
bella," replied  Podstadsky,  gazing  upon  her  with  passionate  admira- 
tion. "Surely  every  woman  must  hate  you,  and  every  man  be 
intoxicated  by  your  cliarms." 

"They  are  intoxicated.  Carlo,"  replied  she.  "They  are  such 
fools  !  To  think  that  they  are  willing  to  commit  any  deed  of  folly 
for  the  sake  of  a  fair  face  and  two  bright  e^^es. " 

"And  you,  my  angel,  are  cruel  to  all,  and  for  me  alone  has  the 
proud  ('(Huit(>ss  Baillou  a  heart." 

"A  heart !"  ejaculated  the  countess,  with  irony.  "  Do  you  believe 
in  hearts,  silly  Carlo?  My  dear  friend,  I  at  least  am  without  such 
an  inconvenience.  If  I  love  any  thing  it  is  gold.  Its  cliink  to  my 
ear  is  sweetest  harmony,  its  touch  tlu-ills  tlu-ough  my  whole  being." 

"How  you  liave  changed,  Arabella!  Tlie  time  was  when  your 
lips  murmured  words  of  love  and  dc^spair,  tooV" 

"Ay,  Carlo  !  But  the  woman  who  murmured  of  love  and  despair 
— she  who  believed  in  innocence  and  loyalty,  is  buried  in  the  Tiber. 
She  whom  you  rescued  thence  has  received  tlie  baptism  of  sham(> ;  and 
you.  Count  Podstadsky,  were  her  sponsor.  You  tauglit  me  the  art 
of  lying  and  decehing,  and  now  you  prate  to  me  of  a  heart  1" 


THE  LADY  PATRONESS.  569 

"  It  is  because  your  maddening  beauty  will  not  suffer  me  to  for- 
get that  mine  is  still  susceptible  of  love, "  replied  Podstadsky. 

The  countess  laughed,  but  there  was  no  mirth  in  her  voice. 
" Podstadsky, "  said  she,  throwing  back  her  superb  head,  "you  have 
about  as  nuich  heart  as  a  hare,  who  runs  from  a  rustling  leaf,  taking 
it  to  be  the  clink  of  the  hunter's  rifle." 

"And  yet,  Arabella, "  replied  Podstadsky,  with  a  sickly  smile, 
"  I  am  here,  although  sometimes  I  do  start,  and  fancy  that  I  hear 
the  hunter's  step  behind  me." 

■'Hare-like  fright,"  said  Arabella,  raising  her  shoulders.  "I 
wonder  at  you.  Carlo,  when  you  look  upon  what  we  are,  and  reflect 
upon  what  we  have  been.  Everybody  in  Vienna  admires  and  envies 
us.  The  highest  nobles  of  the  land  are  our  willing  guests,  and  the 
emperor  himself  (dit-on)  has  fallen  in  love  with  the  Countess  Bail- 
lou.  Oh,  Carlo  !  Is  it  not  enough  to  make  all  the  gods  of  Olympus 
laugh?" 

"You  are  right,"  replied  Podstadsky,  encouraged.  "The  em- 
peror's visit  here  to-night  will  silence  the  clamor  of  my  creditors." 

"Creditors!  What  of  them?  Was  there  ever  a  nobleman  with- 
out creditors !  They  are  one  of  the  appendages  of  rank.  And, 
then,  Carlo — if  your  creditors  annoy  you,  what  prevents  you  from 
paying  them?" 

Podstadsky  shuddered.     "  Do  you  mean — " 

"What  is  the  matter  with  the  man?"  asked  Arabella,  as  he 
paused,  and  she  saw  how  ghastly  he  looked.  "  Of  course,  I  mean  you 
to  pay  as  you  have  paid  before.  Pay,  and  pay  promptly.  Then 
when  every  thing — furniture,  plate,  jewels,  horses,  and  equipages 
are  ours,  we  sell  out,  and  realize  ovir  fortune  in  gold — (no  bank-notes, 
Carlo) — and,  then,  we  take  up  our  abode  in  the  city  of  cities — 
Paris  !     Gold— gold  !    There  is—" 

A  light  knock  was  heard  at  the  door.  The  countess  disappeared, 
and  the  count  put  out  his  head.  It  was  his  steward,  who  announced 
that  a  lady,  closely  veiled,  wished  to  speak  with  Count  Podstadsky 
on  urgent  business. 

"  Show  her  into  the  anteroom.  The  Countess  Baillou  will  do  me 
the  favor  to  receive  her. " 

"My  lord,"  said  the  steward,  "the  lady  wishes  to  see  you  alone." 

"  Indeed  ?    Then  show  her  in  here. " 

The  steward  retired,  and  the  count  stepped  into  one  of  the  lighted 
rooms.     The  countess  came  forward,  smiling. 

"I  heard  it  all,"  said  she  playfully,  threatening  him  with  her 
finger.  "I  am  not  going  to  allow  you  to  have  a  tete-d-tete  in  the 
dark.  No,  no,  my  Jupiter,  j'our  mysterious  beauty  shall  be  received 
just  here  under  the  light  of  the  chandelier,  and  I  shall  watch  you 
both  from  the  boudoir.  That  wall  be  safer  for  all  parties.  I  suspect 
a  certain  dark-eyed  beauty  of  this  stratagem,  and  I  long  to  see  the 
haughty  prude." 

"  Do  you  suspect  Rachel  Eskeles?" 

A  rabella  nodded  affirmatively.  "  Doubtless  she  comes  to  implore 
forgiveness  for  her  father's  insolence,  and  to  deny  all  complicity 
with  the  old  Jewish  dragon.  Here  she  comes,  Carlo,  but  mark  me  I 
if  I  see  danger  ahead,  I  come  to  the  rescue." 

The  countess,  like  a  graceful  gazelle,  then  bounded  into  the  bou- 
doir, while  the  count  advanced  to  meet  the  veiled  visitor. 


570  JOSEPH  II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 


CHAPTER    CL. 

MOTHER     AND     SON. 

With  the  bow  and  smile  of  a  veritable  libertine,  Count  Podstad- 
sky  offered  his  arm  to  the  lady,  whose  face  was  completely  hidden 
by  a  long  black  veil.  The  accommodating  steward  retired  in  haste, 
and  the  lady,  looking  around  with  anxiety,  murmured,  "Are  we 
a  lone  V" 

"  Entirely  alone,  my  charming  sphinx, "  replied  Podstadsky. 
"The  god  of  love  alone  shall  hear  the  secrets  which  are  to  fall  from 
your  coral  lips.  But,  first,  let  me  remove  this  envious  veil,  my 
mysterious  charmer. " 

The  lady  stood  perfectly  still,  while  Podstadsky,  by  way  of 
exordium,  embraced  her  affectionately.  Neither  did  she  offer  any 
opposition  to  his  daring  hands,  as  first  they  removed  her  long  man- 
tilla, and  then  threw  back  her  black  crape  veil  which  had  so  faith- 
fully concealed  her  features. 

When  he  saw  her  face,  he  started  back  with  a  cry  of  remorse. 

"  My  mother,  oh,  my  mother !"  exclaimed  he,  covering  his  face 
with  his  hands. 

Behind  the  jJortiere  there  was  the  faint  sound  of  a  mocking  laugh, 
but  neither  mother  nor  son  heard  it.  They  heard  naught  but  the 
insufferable  thi-obs  of  their  own  hearts  ;  they  saw,  each  one,  naught 
but  the  death-like  face  of  the  other. 

"Yes,  it  is  your  unhappy  mother — she  who  once  vowed  never 
again  to  cross  your  threshold — but  maternity  is  merciful,  Carl,  and  I 
come  hither  to  pardon  and  to  rescue  you,  while  yet  there  is  time  for 
flight." 

The  young  count  made  no  reply.  At  the  astounding  revelation 
made  by  the  dropping  of  that  black  veil,  he  had  retreated  in  mingled 
shame  and  sui-jirise.  He  had  accosted  his  own  mother  in  the  lan- 
guage of  libertinism,  and  he  stood  gazing  upon  her  with  looks  of 
sorrow  and  regret.  He  had  scarcely  heard  her  speak,  so  absorbed 
vras  he  in  self-reproach,  and  now  as  she  ceased,  he  murmured  : 

"Is  that  my  mother?  My  mother,  with  the  wrinkled  brow  and 
the  white  hair  !" 

The  countess  returned  his  gaze  with  a  mournful  smile.  "You 
have  not  seen  me  for  two  years,  Carl,  and  since  then  sorrow  has 
transformed  me  into  an  old  woman.  I  need  not  tell  you  why  I  have 
sorrowed.  Oli,  my  child  !  Whence  comes  the  gold  with  which  this 
fearful  splendor  is  purchased  ?    Your  father — " 

"My  father  !"  echoed  the  count,  recalled  to  self-possession  by  the 
VN^ord.  "What  am  I  to  him,  who  cursed  me  and  forbade  me  his 
house!  Tell  him,"  cried  he,  fiercely,  "that  if  I  am  lost,  it  is  he  who 
shall  answer  to  Heaven  for  my  soul !" 

"Peace!"  exclaimed  the  mother,  in  a  tone  of  authority.  "Nor 
attempt  to  shift  your  disgrace  upon  him  who  has  been,  not  the  cause 
of  your  crimes,  but  their  victim.  Why  did  he  curse  you,  repro- 
bate, tell  me  why?" 

The  count  was  so  awed  by  her  words  and  looks  that  he  obeyed 
almost  instiiictivelj'. 

"  Because  I  had  forged, "  was  the  whispered  reply. 


MOTHER  AND  SON.  571 

«Yes — forged  your  father's  name  for  a  million,  and  forced  him, 
for  the  honor  of  his  house,  to  sell  all  that  he  possessed.  We  are  so 
poor  that  we  have  scarcely  the  necessaries  of  life  ;  nevertheless,  we 
have  borne  in  silence  the  contumely  of  the  world  that  scorns  us  as 
misers.  And  now,  although  you  have  nothing  to  inherit,  we  hear 
of  your  wealth,  the  magnificence  of  your  house,  of  your  unbounded 
expenditure !" 

"  Yes,  mother, "  replied  the  count,  beginning  to  recover  from  his 
shock,  "  it  is  plain  that  I  have  discovered  a  treasure— somewhere. " 

"Then  you  will  have  to  explain  the  nature  of  your  discovery,  for 
your  father  is  about  to  reveal  the  state  of  his  affairs  to  the  world. " 

"  If  he  does  that,  I  am  lost !"  cried  Podstadsky,  in  tones  of  despair. 

"Ah!"  gasped  the  unhappy  mother.  "Then  we  were  right  in 
fearing  that  your  wealth  was  ill-gotten.  Oh,  Carl,  Carl !  look  into 
the  face  of  the  mother  who  bore  you,  and  has  loved  you  beyond  all 
things  earthly — look  into  her  face,  and  say  whence  comes  this 
magnificence. " 

The  count  ti'ied  to  raise  his  eyes,  but  he  could  not  meet  his 
mother's  glance.  Alas!  he  remembered  how  often  in  childhood, 
after  some  trifling  misconduct,  he  had  looked  into  those  loving  eyes, 
and  read  forgiveness  there  ! 

The  mother  trembled,  and  could  scarcely  support  her  limbs.  She 
caught  at  a  chair,  and  leaned  upon  it  for  a  moment.  Then,  with 
faltering  steps  she  approached  her  son,  and  raised  his  head  with  her 
own  hands.  It  was  a  touching  scene,  and  Count  Podstadsky  him- 
self was  not  unmoved  by  its  silent  eloquence.  His  heart  beat  au- 
dibly, and  his  eyes  filled  with  repentant  tears. 

"  Tell  me,  my  child,  tell  me  whence  comes  your  wealth  ?  I  will 
not  betray  you,  for  I  am  your  unhappy  mother  !" 

"  You  can  do  nothing  for  me,  mother, "  sobbed  the  count.  "  I  am 
lost  beyond  power  of  redemption. " 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  Then,  you  are  guilty  !  But,  Carl,  I  will  not  ask 
you  any  questions — only  let  me  save  you  from  public  disgrace. 
Your  father  is  inexorable,  but  I  can  save  you,  my  beloved  child.  I 
will  leave  home — country — name— every  thing  for  your  sake  ;  even 
the  husband  of  my  life-long  love.  Come,  my  son,  let  us  go  together 
where  no  one  shall  ever  hear  your  story,  and  where,  with  the  grace 
of  God,  you  may  repent  of  your  sins  and  amend. " 

The  strength  of  her  love  lent  such  eloquence  to  the  words  of  the 
countess  that  her  son  was  borne  away  by  the  force  of  her  pleadings. 

"Oh,  my  mother  !  if  I  could — if  I  could — "  but  here  his  voice  fal- 
tered, and  the  tears,  which  he  had  been  striving  to  keep  back, 
gushed  out  in  torrents.  He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and 
sobbed  aloud. 

His  mother  smiled  and  made  a  silent  thanksgiving  to  Heaven. 
"God  will  accept  your  tears,  my  dear  prodigal  child.  Come,  ere  it 
be  too  late.  See,  I  have  gold.  My  family  diamonds  have  yielded 
enough  to  maintain  us  in  Switzerland.  There,  among  its  soli- 
tudes—" 

A  clear,  musical  laugh  was  heard,  and  the  melodious  voice  of 
a  woman  spoke  these  scornful  words  : 

"  Count  Podstadsky  a  peasant !  a  Swiss  peasant !     Ha  !  ha  !" 

The  old  countess  turned,  and  saw,  coming  from  the  boudoir,  a 
vision  of  such  beauty  as  dazzled  her  eyes.  The  vision  came  forward, 
smiling,  and,  Podstadsky  dashing  away  his  tears,  passed  in  one  in- 


572  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

stant  from  the  heights  of  saving  repentance  to  the  unfathomable 
depths  of  hopeless  obduracy. 

The  two  women,  meanwhile,  faced  each  other  :  the  one  laughing, 
triumphant,  beautiful,  alas,  as  Circe ;  the  other  pale,  sorrowful  as 
the  guardian  angel  of  the  soul  which  has  just  been  banished  from 
the  presence  of  God  forever  ! 

"  Pray,  Carlo,  introduce  me  to  your  mother, "  said  Arabella.  "  You 
are  not  yet  a  Swiss  peasant.  Pending  your  metamorphosis,  be  a  lit- 
tle more  observant  of  the  conventions  and  courtesies  of  high  life  !" 

"  She  has  been  eaves-dropping, "  exclaimed  the  Countess  Podstad- 
sky,  contemptuously. 

"  Yes, "  said  Arabella,  with  perfect  equanimity.  "  I  have  enjoyed 
the  privilege  of  witnessing  this  charming  scene.  You,  madame, 
have  acted  incomparably,  but  your  son  has  not  sustained  you.  The 
role  you  have  given  him  is  inappropriate.  To  ask  of  him  to  play  the 
repentant  sinner,  is  simply  ridiculous.  Count  Podstadsky  is  a  gen- 
tleman, and  has  no  taste  for  idyls. " 

"  Wlio  is  this  woman?"  asked  the  old  countess. 

Her  son  had  regained  all  his  self-possession  again.  He  ap- 
proached Arabella,  and,  taking  her  hand,  led  her  directly  up  to  his 
mother. 

"  My  mother,  I  beg  to  present  to  you  the  Countess  Baillou,  the 
lady-patroness  of  the  ball  I  give  to-night. " 

The  old  countess  paid  no  attention  to  Arabella's  deep  courtesy. 
She  was  too  much  in  earnest  to  heed  her. 

"  Will  you  come,  Carl  ?    Every  moment  is  precious. " 

"  My  dear  lady, "  exclaimed  Arabella,  "  you  forget  that  not  only 
the  aristocracy  of  Vienna,  but  tlie  emperor  himself,  is  to  be  your 
son's  guest  to-night." 

"  Do  not  listen  to  her,  my  son, "  cried  the  wretched  mother. 
"Her  voice  is  the  voice  of  the  evil  spirit  that  would  lure  you  on  to 
destruction.  Carl !  Carl !"  cried  she,  laying  her  vigorous  grasp  upon 
his  arm,  "be  not  so  irresolute!  Come,  and  prove  yourself  to  be  a 
man !" 

"Ay!"  interposed  Arabella,  "be  a  man,  Carl,  and  suffer  no  old 
woman  to  come  under  j'our  own  roof  and  chide  you  as  if  you  were 
her  naughty  boy.  What  business,  pray,  is  it  of  this  lady's,  where 
you  gather  your  riches?  And  what  to  the  distinguished  Podstadsky 
are  tlie  clamors  of  two  imnatural  parents,  who  have  long  since  lost 
all  claim  to  his  respect?" 

"  Carl !  Carl !"  shrieked  the  mother,  "do  not  heed  her.  She  is  an 
evil  spirit.     Come  with  me." 

There  was  a  pause.  Arabella  raised  her  starry  eyes,  and  fixed 
them  with  an  expression  of  passionate  love  upon  the  count.  That 
simulated  look  sealed  his  fate. 

"No,  mother,  no.  Importune  me  no  longer,  for  I  will  not  leave 
Vienna.     Enough  of  this  tragi -comedy— leave  me  in  peace  !" 

Arabella  Hung  liim  a  kiss  from  tlie  tips  of  her  rosy  fingers. 

"Spoken  like  a  man,  at  last,"  said  she. 

For  a  while  not  a  word  was  heard  in  that  gorgeous  room,  where 
the  cliaiideliers  flung  their  full  red  glare  upon  the  group  below— 
the  white-haired  niotbei-— the  lecusant  son— the  beautiful  enchan- 
tress— whose  black  art  had  just  sundered  them  forever. 

At  length  she  s|)oke,  that  ln-oken-hearted  mother,  and  her  voice 
was  hollow  as  a  sound  from  the  grave. 


MOTHER  AND  SON.  573 

"'Thou  hast  chosen.  God  would  have  rescued  thee,  but  thou  hast 
turned  away  from  His  merciful  warning  !  Farewell,  unhappy  one, 
farewell !" 

She  wrapped  her  dark  mantle  around  her,  and  concealed  her  face 
again  in  the  veil. 

Her  son  dared  not  offer  his  hand,  for  evil  eyes  were  upon  him, 
and  he  allowed  her  to  depart  without  a  word.  Slowly  she  traversed 
the  scene  of  sinful  splendor,  her  tall,  dark  figure  reflected  from  mir- 
ror to  mirror  as  she  went ;  and  before  the  receding  vision  of  that 
crushed  and  despairing  mother  the  lights  above  seemed  to  pale,  and 
the  gilding  of  those  rich  saloons  grew  dim  and  spectral. 

Farther  and  farther  she  went,  Podstadsky  gazing  after  her, 
while  Arabella  gazed  upon  him.  She  reached  the  last  door,  and  he 
started  as  if  to  follow.  His  tempter  drew  him  firmly  back,  and 
calmed  his  agitation  with  her  magic  smile. 

"Stay,  beloved,"  said  she,  tenderly.  "From  this  hour  I  shall  be 
mother,  mistress,  friend— all  things  to  you  !" 

He  clasped  her  passionately  to  his  heart,  sobbing,  "I  wish  for 
nothing  on  earth  but  your  love,  the  love  which  will  follow  me  even 
to  the  scaffold !" 

"Pshaw!"  exclaimed  Arabella,  "what  an  ugly  word  to  whisper 
to  these  beautiful  rooms !  Look  here,  Carl,  the  diamonds  we  own 
in  common  are  worth  half  a  million.  We  must  do  a  good  business 
to-night.  When  the  emperor  has  retired,  the  hostess  will  have  a 
right  to  preside  over  the  faro  table,  and  you  know  that  my  cards 
never  betray  me. " 

"  I  know  it,  my  enchantress, "  cried  Carl,  kissing  her.  "  Let  us 
make  haste,  and  grow  rich.  I  would  go  anywhere  with  you,  were 
it  even  to  Switzerland. " 

"  But  not  as  a  peasant,  Carl.  First,  however,  we  must  have  our 
millions.  Now,  be  reasonable  to-night,  and  don't  play  the  Italian 
lover.  Colonel  Szekuly  is  desperately  enamored  of  me,  and  he  will 
be  sure  to  sit  next  to  me  at  the  faro-table.  The  place  he  covets  shall 
cost  him  a  fortune." 

At  that  moment  the  steward  entered  the  room. 

"  A  message  from  the  emperor,  my  lady. " 

"What  can  it  be?" 

"  His  majesty  regrets  that  he  cannot  keep  his  engagement  this 
evening  with  Count  Podstadsky. " 

"This  is  a  disappointment.  What  else?"  asked  the  countess,  as 
the  servant  still  stood  there. 

"  Several  other  excuses,  my  lady.  The  two  Princesses  Lichten- 
stein.  Countess  Thun,  and  Princess  Esterhazy  also  have  sent 
apologies. " 

"Very  well,  Duval.     Go,  for  the  guests  will  be  coming." 

The  steward  went,  and  the  pair  looked  at  each  other  in  anxious 
silence.     Both  were  pale,  both  were  frightened. 

"What  can  it  mean?    Wliat  can  it  mean?"  faltered  the  countess. 

"What  can  it  mean?"  echoed  the  count,  and  he  stared,  for  again 
he  thought  that  he  saw  his  mother's  shadow  darkening  the  splendor 
of  those  princely  halls,  whose  lights  w^ere  flickering  as  though  they 
were  about  to  be  extinguished  and  leave  the  guilty  accomplices  in 
irretrievable  darkness. 

"Arabella,  something  threatens  us  !"  whispered  Podstadsky. 

"Nonsense!    Our  guests  are  arriving,  "said  she,  rallying.     "Cour- 


574  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

age,  Carl,  courage  !    A  smooth  brow  and  bright  smile  for  the  aristo- 
cratic world,  Count  Podstadsky  !" 

The  doors  opened,  and  crowds  of  splendid  women,  accompanied 
by  their  cavaliers,  floated  in  toward  the  lady  patroness,  who  received 
them  all  with  bewitching  grace,  and  won  all  hearts  by  her  affability. 


CHAPTER    CLI. 

THE  TWO  OATHS. 

"Already,  beloved?  Think  that  for  three  long  weeks  I  have  not 
seen  you,  Giinther  !  It  is  so  early  :  no  one  misses  me  in  the  house, 
for  my  father  returns  from  his  bank  at  nine  only.  Who  knows  when 
we  shall  meet  again  V" 

"To-morrow,  my  Rachel,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  return,  and 
every  morning  at  this  hour,  I  shall  be  here  behind  the  grove,  wait- 
ing for  my  angel  to  unlock  the  gates  of  Paradise,  and  admit  me  to 
the  heaven  of  her  presence. " 

"  I  will  surely  come  !  Nor  storm  nor  rain  shall  deter  me.  Here, 
in  this  pavilion,  we  are  secure  from  curious  eyes.  God  alone,  who 
blesses  our  love,  shall  see  into  our  hearts  !" 

"  Oh,  Rachel,  how  I  honor  and  love  your  energetic  soul !  When 
I  am  with  you,  I  fear  nothing.  But  away  from  the  influence  of 
those  angelic  eyes,  I  tremble  and  grow  faint. " 

"What  do  you  fear,  Giinther?" 

"The  pride  of  riches,  Rachel.  Your  father  would  laugh  me  to 
scorn  were  he  to  liear  that  his  peerless  daughter  is  loved  by  a  man 
witliout  rank  or  fortune. " 

"  But  whose  heart  has  a  patent  of  nobility  from  God  !"  exclaimed 
Rachel,  with  enthusiasm.  "And  besides,  Giinther,  are  you  not  a 
contideutial  friend  of  the  emperor?" 

"Yes,"  said  Giinther,  bitterly.  "The  emperor  calls  me 'friend, ' 
and  in  'grateful  acknowledgment  of  my  services, '  he  has  raised  my 
salary  to  three  thousand  florins.  But  what  is  that  to  your  father, 
who  pays  twice  the  amount  to  his  book-keeper!  Why  are  you  the 
daugliter  of  a  man  whose  wealth  reflects  discredit  upon  my  love  !" 

"  No  one  who  looks  into  your  noble  face  will  suspect  the  purity  of 
your  love,  dear  Gimther.  But,  alas,  my  lover !  there  is  an  obstacle 
greater  tlian  wealth,  to  part  us — the  obstacle  of  your  cruel  faith, 
which  does  not  permit  the  Christian  to  wed  with  the  Jew." 

"  If  you  were  poor,  my  Rachel,  I  would  try  to  win  you  over  from 
the  Jewish  God  of  vengeance  to  the  merciful  God  of  the  Clu-istiau. 
Would  I  could  bring  such  an  offering  to  Jesus  as  that  of  your  pure 
young  heart !" 

"My  father  would  die  were  I  to  renounce  mj'  faith,"  .said  Rachel, 
suddenly  growing  sad.     "But  before  he  died,  he  would  curse  me." 

"  How  calmly  you  speak,  and  yet  your  words  are  the  death- 
warrant  of  my  hopes!"  exclaimed  Giinther,  despairingly. 

"I  speak  calmly,  because  I  have  long  since  resolved  never  to  be 
the  wife  of  another  man, "  replied  Rachel.  "  If  I  must  choose  be- 
tween father  and  lover,  I  follow  you.  If  my  father  drives  me  from 
his  liome,  then,  Giinther,  I  will  come  and  seek  shelter  upon  your 
faithful  heart." 

"And  you  shall  find  it  there,  my  own  one  ! — I  dare  not  call  you, 


THE  TWO  OATHS.  575 

beloved,  but  oh  !  I  await  with  longing  the  hour  of  your  coming — the 
hour  when,  of  your  own  free  will,  your  little  hand  shall  be  laid  in 
mine,  to  journey  with  me  from  earth  to  heaven  !  Adieu,  sweetest. 
I  go,  but  my  sovil  remains  behind. " 

"And  mine  goes  with  you,"  replied  Rachel.  He  clasped  her  in 
his  arms,  and  over  and  over  again  imprinted  his  passionate  kisses 
upon  her  willing  lips. 

"To-morrow,"  whispered  she.  "Here  is  the  key  of  the  gate.  I 
diall  be  in  the  pavilion." 

Again  he  turned  to  kiss  her,  and  so  they  parted.  Rachel  watched 
his  tall,  graceful  figure  until  it  was  hidden  by  the  trees,  then  she 
clasped  her  hands  in  prayer  : 

"  O  God,  bless  and  protect  our  love  !  Shelter  us  from  evil,  but  if 
it  must  come,  grant  me  strength  to  bear  it !" 

Slowly  and  thoughtfully  she  returned  to  the  house.  Her  heart 
was  so  filled  with  thoughts  of  her  lover,  that  she  did  not  see  the 
stirring  of  the  blind,  through  which  her  father's  dark,  angry  eyes 
had  witnessed  their  meeting.  It  was  not  until  she  had  entered  her 
room  that  she  awakened  from  her  dream  of  bliss.  Its  splendor  re- 
called her  senses,  and  with  a  sob  she  exclaimed  : 

"Why  am  I  not  a  beggar,  or  a  poor  Christian  child?  Any  thing 
— any  thing  that  would  make  me  free  to  be  his  wife  ! — " 

She  ceased,  for  she  heard  her  father's  voice.  Yes,  it  was  indeed 
lie  !  How  came  he  to  be  at  home  so  soon?  His  hand  was  upon  the 
door,  and  now  he  spoke  to  her. 

"  Are  you  up,  my  daughter?     Can  I  come  in?" 

Rachel  hastened  to  open  the  door,  and  her  father  entered  the 
room  with  a  bright  smile. 

"So  soon  dressed,  Rachel!  I  was  afraid  that  I  might  have  dis- 
turbed your  slumbers,"  said  he,  drawing  her  to  him,  and  kissing 
her.  "Not  only  dressed,  but  dressed  so  charmingly,  that  one  would 
suppose  the  sun  were  your  lover,  and  had  already  visited  you  here. 
Or,  perhaps  you  expect  some  of  your  adoring  counts  this  moning — 
hey !" 

"  No,  father,  I  expect  no  one. " 

"So  much  the  better,  for  I  have  glorious  news  for  you.  Do  j'ou 
remember  what  I  promised  when  you  consented  to  let  me  punish 
Count  Podstadsky  after  my  own  fashion?" 

"  No,  dear  father,  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  been  bribed  to 
obey  your  commands. " 

"'Then,  I  will  tell  you  my  news,  my  glorious  news.  I  have  be- 
come a  freiherr. " 

"  You  were  always  a  free  man,  my  father  ;  your  millions  have 
long  ago  made  you  a  freiherr. " 

"Bravely  spoken,  my  Jewess, "  cried  Eskeles  Flies.  "I  will  re- 
ward you  by  telling  yovi  what  I  have  bought  for  you.  A  carriage- 
load  of  illuminated  manuscripts  decorated  with  exquisite  miniatures, 
that  you  may  enrich  your  library  with  Christian  Bibles  and  papal 
bulls  of  every  size  and  form. " 

"  My  dear  father,  how  I  thank  you  for  these  treasures  !" 

"Treasures,  indeed!  They  are  part  of  the  library  of  a  convent. 
The  emperor  has  destroyed  them  as  the  Vandals  once  did  the  treas- 
ures of  the  Goths.  I  bought  them  from  one  of  our  own  people.  And 
that  is  not  all.  I  have  a  commuuion-.service  and  an  ostensormm  for 
you,  whose  sculptures  are  worthy  of  Benvenuto  Cellini.     I  purchased 


57G  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

these  also  from  a  Jew,  who  bought  them  at  one  of  the  great  church 
auctions.  Ha,  ha  !  He  was  going  to  melt  them  up — the  vessels  that 
Christian  priests  had  blessed  and  held  sacred  !" 

"That  was  no  disgrace  for  him,  father;  but  it  is  far  different 
with  the  emperor,  who  has  desecrated  the  things  which  are  esteemed 
holy  in  his  own  church.  The  emperor  is  not  likely  to  win  the  affec- 
tions of  his  people  by  acts  like  these. " 

"Pshaw!  He  wanted  gold,  and  cared  very  little  whence  it 
came,"  cried  Eskeles  Flies,  with  a  contemptuous  shrug.  "His 
munificent  mother  liaving  emptied  the  imperial  treasury,  the  pru- 
dent son  had  to  rej^lenish  it.  True,  his  metliod  of  creating  a  fund 
is  not  the  discreetest  he  could  have  cliosen  ;  for  while  teaching  his 
people  new  modes  of  financiering,  he  has  forgotten  that  he  is  also 
teaching  them  to  pilfer  their  own  gods.  What  an  outcry  would  be 
raised  in  Christendom,  if  the  Jew  should  plunder  Iiis  own  syna- 
gogue. Bvit  I  tell  you,  Rachel,  that  when  the  lust  of  riches  takes 
possession  of  a  Christian's  heart,  it  maddens  his  brain.  Not  so  with 
the  Jew.  Were  he  starving,  he  would  never  sell  the  holy  of  holies. 
But  the  Jew  never  starves — not  he  !  He  lays  ducat  upon  ducat  until 
the  glistening  heap  dazzles  the  Christian's  eyes,  and  he  comes  to 
barter  his  wares  for  it.  So  is  it  with  me.  My  gold  has  bought  for 
me  the  merchandise  of  nobility. " 

"Are  you  really  in  earnest,  father?  Have  you  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  add  to  the  dignity  of  your  Jewish  birthright  the  bawble  of  a 
baron's  title?" 

"Why  not,  Racliel?  The  honor  is  salable,  and  it  gives  one 
consideration  with  the  Christian.  I  have  bought  tlie  title,  and  the 
escutcheon,  as  I  buy  a  set  of  jewels  for  my  daughter.  Both  are  in- 
tended to  dazzle  our  enemies,  and  to  excite  their  envy." 

"But  how  came  it  to  pass?"  asked  Rachel.  " How  came  you  to 
venture  such  an  unheard-of  demand  ?  A  Jewish  baron  is  an  anomaly 
which  the  world  has  never  seen." 

"  For  that  very  reason  I  demanded  it.  I  had  rendered  extraordi- 
nary services  to  the  emperor.  He  sent  for  me  to  repay  me  the 
millions  I  had  lent  him  without  interest ;  and  I  took  occasion  there 
to  speak  of  my  thriving  manufactures  and  my  great  commercial 
schemes.  'Ah,'  said  he,  putting  his  hand  affectionately  upon  my 
shoulder  (for  the  emperor  loves  a  rich  man),  'ah,  if  I  had  many 
such  merchant- princes  as  you,  the  Black  Sea  wovild  soon  be  covered 
witli  Austrian  ships. '  Then  he  asked  what  he  could  do  in  return 
for  the  favor  I  had  done  him." 

"  And  you  asked  for  a  baron's  title  !" 

"I  did.  The  emperor  o[)eued  his  large  eyes,  and  looked  know- 
ingly at  me.  He  had  guessed  my  thoughts.  'So,'  said  he,  'you 
would  like  to  provoke  the  aristocracy  to  little,  would  you?  Well — 
I  rather  like  the  idea.  They  are  in  need  of  a  lesson  to  bring  down 
their  rebellious  spirit,  and  I  shall  give  it  to  them.  You  are  a  more 
useful  man  to  me  than  any  of  tli«m,  and  you  sliall  be  created  a  bar- 
on. I  shall  also  elevate  several  other  distinguislied  Jews  to  the  rank 
of  nobles,  and  the  aristocracy  shall  understand  that  wherever  I  find 
merit  I  reward  it. '  " 

"So  tlien  it  was  your  worth,  and  not  your  gold,  that  earned  for 
you  the  distinction  !"  cried  Racliel,  gratified. 

"Nonsense!  'Merit'  means  wealth,  and  I  assure  you  that  titles 
cost  enormous  sums.     I  must  pay  for  my  patent  ten  thousand  florins, 


THE  TWO  OATHS.  577 

and  if  I  should  wish  to  be  a  count,  I  must  pay  twenty  thousand. 
But  enough  of  all  this.  Suffice  it  that  I  shall  prove  to  the  nobles 
that  my  money  is  as  good  as  their  genealogical  trees,  and  now  we 
shall  have  crowds  of  noble  adorers  at  the  Baroness  Rachel's  feet. 
But  be  she  baroness  or  countess,  she  is  forever  a  Jewess,  and  that 
parts  her  eternally  from  any  but  a  wooer  of  her  own  faith.  Does  it 
not,  my  Rachel,  my  loyal  Israelitish  baroness?" 

"Do  you  doubt  me,  my  father?"  asked  Rachel  in  a  faltering 
voice,  while  slie  averted  her  face. 

"No,  my  cliild,  for  if  I  did,  I  would  curse  you  on  the  spot." 

"  Dear,  dear  father,  do  not  speak  such  fearful  words !"  cried 
Rachel,  trembling  witli  fright. 

"You  are  right,  child.  I  am  childish  to  indvilge  the  supposition 
of  my  Hebrew  maiden's  treachery.  She  is  pure  before  the  Lord, 
loyal  and  true  to  the  faith  of  her  fathers.  But  we  must  be  armed 
against  temptation,  and  before  we  part  for  the  day,  we  must  botli 
swear  eternal  fidelity  to  our  creed.  These  wily  Christians  may  come 
with  flattery  and  smiles,  and  some  one  of  them  might  steal  my 
Rachel's  heart.  I  swear,  therefore,  by  all  that  is  sacred  on  earth 
or  in  heaven,  never  to  abandon  the  Jewish  faith,  and  never  to  en- 
ter a  Christian  church.     So  help  me  God  !" 

Rachel  gazed  upon  her  father  with  blanched  cheeks  and  distended 
eyes ;  her  muscles  stiffened  -with  horror,  until  she  seemed  to  be 
turning  to  stone. 

"Did  you  hear  my  oath,  Rachel?"  said  he. 

She  parted  her  lips,  and  they  faltered  an  inaudible  "Yes." 

"Then,"  said  he,  gently,  "repeat  the  oath,  for  we  both  must  take 
it." 

She  raised  her  head  with  a  quick,  convulsive  motion,  and  stam- 
mered, "  What— what  is  it,  father?" 

"  Swear,  as  I  have  done,  never  to  leave  the  faith  of  your  fathers, 
never  to  enter  a  Christian  church." 

Rachel  made  no  reply.  She  stared  again  as  though  her  senses 
were  forsaking  her.  She  thought  she  would  go  mad.  Her  father's 
brow  contracted,  and  his  mien  grew  fierce  as  he  saw  that  his  daugh- 
ter's heart  had  gone  irrevocably  from  him.  There  was  a  long, 
dreadful  pause. 

"Are  you  at  a  loss  for  words?"  asked  the  baron,  and  his  voice 
was  so  savage  that  Rachel  started  at  the  ominous  sound. 

"Repeat  my  words,  then,"  continued  he,  seeing  that  she  made  no 
answer,  "  or  I — " 

"Say,  on,  my  father,"  replied  the  despairing  girl. 

Baron  Eskeles  Flies  repeated  his  oath,  and  the  pale  victim  spoke 
the  words  after  him.  But  at  the  end  of  the  ordeal  she  reeled  and 
fell  to  the  floor.  Her  father  bent  over,  and  raising  her  tenderly, 
folded  her  to  his  heart.     His  voice  was  now  as  loving  as  ever. 

"My  precious  child,  we  are  truly  united  now.  Nothing  can  part 
us,  and  your  happy  father  will  surround  you  with  such  splendor  as 
you  have  never  beheld  before. " 

"Oh,  my  father  !"  exclaimed  she,  "what  has  splendor  to  do  with 
hai^piness?" 

"Everything,"  replied  her  father,  with  a  careless  laugh.  "Mis- 
fortune is  not  near  so  ugly  in  a  palace  as  in  a  cottage  ;  and  I  do 
assure  you  that  the  tears  which  are  shed  in  a  softly-cushioned  car- 
riage are  not  half  so  bitter  as  those  that  fall  from  the  eyes  of  the 


578  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

houseless  beggar.  Wealth  takes  the  edge  from  aflBiction,  and  lends 
new  lustre  to  happiness.  And  it  shall  shed  its  brightest  halo  over 
yours,  my  daughter.  But  I  must  leave  you,  for  I  expect  to  earn  a 
fortune  before  I  return,  when  I  hope  to  see  you  bright  and  beautiful 
as  ever. " 

He  kissed  her  forehead  and  stroked  her  silky  hair.  "  The  Baroness 
Rachel  will  be  a  Jewess  forever  !  Oh,  how  can  I  thank  you  for  that 
promise,  my  adored  child  !  What  new  pleasure  can  I  procure  for 
my  idol  to-day?" 

"  Love  me,  father, "  murmured  Rachel. 

"  What  need  you  ask  for  love,  you  who  are  to  me  like  the  breath 
of  life?  To  show  how  I  anticipate  your  wishes,  I  have  already  pre- 
pared a  gratification  for  you.  I  have  remarked  how  much  pleasure 
you  take  in  the  gardens  and  little  pavilion  yonder.  Since  my 
Rachel  loves  to  take  her  morning  walk  there,  it  shall  be  changed  into 
a  paradise.  The  brightest  fruits  and  flowers  of  the  tropics  shall 
bloom  in  its  conservatories  ;  and  instead  of  the  little  pavilion,  I  shall 
raise  up  a  temple  of  purest  white  marble,  worthy  of  the  nymph  who 
haunts  the  spot.  For  a  few  weeks  your  walks  will  be  somewhat  dis- 
turbed, darling,  for  the  workmen  will  begin  to-morrow  ;  but  they 
need  not  be  much  in  j^our  way,  for  while  the  walls  are  down,  I  shall 
set  a  watch  at  every  gate  to  make  sure  that  no  one  intrudes  upon 
your  privacy.  In  a  few  months  you  shall  have  a  miniature  palace 
wherein  to  rest,  when  you  are  tired  of  roaming  about  the  grounds. 
Farewell,  my  child.  I  shall  send  the  workmen  to-morrow — early 
to-morrow  morning." 

"  He  knows  all, "  thought  poor  Rachel,  as  he  closed  the  door. 
"  The  oath  was  to  part  me  from  Giinther  ;  the  changes  in  the  garden 
are  to  prevent  us  from  meeting. " 

For  a  long  time  she  sat  absorbed  in  grief.  But  finally  she  made 
her  resolve. 

"  I  have  sworn  to  love  thee  forever,  my  Giinther, "  said  she. 
"  When  the  hour  comes  wherein  my  choice  must  be  made,  I  go 
with  thee !" 


CHAPTER    CLII. 

NEW-FASHIONED     OBSEQUIES. 

The  emperor's  horse  was  saddled,  and  ho  was  about  to  take  his 
daily  ride.  But  as  he  was  leaving  his  cabinet,  a  page  announced 
Field -Marshal  Lacy. 

"Admit  him,"  said  Joseph,  and  he  hastened  to  the  anteroom  to 
greet  his  favorite. 

Lacy  received  the  cordial  greeting  of  the  emperor  with  a  grave, 
troubled  expression. 

"Sire,"  said  he,  "may  I  beg  for  an  audience?" 

"  Certainlj^  my  friend, "  replied  Joseph.  "  I  am  just  about  to  ride, 
and  you  can  accompany  me.  We  can  converse  together  in  some  of 
the  shady  alleys  of  the  park.     I  will  order  a  horse  for  you  at  once." 

"Pardon  me,  sire,  our  interview  must  be  here.  I  saw  your  maj- 
esty's horse  in  readiness  for  your  ride,  but  that  did  not  prevent  me 
from  coming,  for  the  matter  which  brought  me  hither  is  one  of 
suiireme  importance." 


NEW-FASHIONED  OBSEQUIES.  579 

"  And  you  cannot  put  it  off  until  we  take  our  ride  ?" 

"Sire,  my  first  reqviest  is  that  your  majesty  will  relinquish  the 
ride  altogether.     You  must  not  be  seen  in  the  streets  to-day." 

"  Bless  me,  Lacy  !  you  speak  as  if  I  were  Louis  of  France,  who  is 
afraid  to  show  himself  in  public,  because  of  the  murmurs  of  "liis  dis- 
contented subjects. " 

"Sire,  assume  that  you  are  Louis,  then,  and  give  up  the  ride. 
Do  it,  if  you  love  me,  my  sovereign." 

"If  I  love  you!"  repeated  Joseph,  with  surprise.  "Well,  then, 
it  shall  be  done."  And  he  rang,  and  ordered  his  horse  to  be  put  up. 
"Now  speak.  What  can  have  happened  here,  that  I  should  be 
threatened  with  a  discontented  mob?" 

"  Sire, "  began  Lacy,  "  you  remember  the  day  on  which  we  swore 
to  speak  the  truth  to  your  majesty,  even  if  it  should  become  impor- 
tunate, do  you  not  ?" ' 

"  Yes,  I  do.  Lacy  ;  but  neither  of  you  have  kept  the  promise  up 
to  this  time." 

"  I  am  here  to  redeem  my  word,  sire.  I  come  to  warn  your  maj- 
esity  that  you  are  proceeding  too  rashly  with  your  measures  of 
reform. " 

"And  you  also,  Lacy!"  cried  Joseph,  reproachfully.  "You,  the 
bravest  of  the  brave,  would  have  me  retreat  before  the  dissatisfaction 
of  priests  and  bigots. " 

"  The  malcontents  are  not  only  priests  and  bigots,  they  are  your 
whole  people.     You  attempt  too  many  reforms  at  once. " 

"But  my  reforms  are  all  for  the  people's  good.  I  am  no  tyrant 
to  oppress  and  trample  them  under  foot.  I  am  doing  my  best  to  free 
them  from  the  shackles  of  prejudice,  and  yet  they  harass  and  oppose 
me.  Even  those  who  understand  my  aims,  place  obstacles  in  my 
path.  Oh,  Lacy,  it  wounds  me  to  see  that  not  even  my  best  friends 
sustain  me !" 

"I  see  that  your  majesty  is  displeased,"  replied  Lacy,  sadly,  "and 
that  you  reckon  me  among  your  opponents — I  who  am  struck  with 
admiration  at  the  grandeur  of  your  conceptions.  But  you  are  so 
filled  with  the  rectitude  of  your  intentions,  that  you  have  no  indul- 
gence for  the  weakness  and  ignorance  of  those  whom  you  would 
benefit,  and  you  make  too  light  of  the  enmity  of  those  whom  your 
reforms  have  aggrieved. " 

"Whom  have  I  aggrieved?"  cried  Joseph,  impatiently.  "Priests 
and  nobles,  nobody  besides.  If  I  have  displeased  them,  it  is  because 
I  wish  to  put  all  men  on  an  equality.  The  privileged  classes  may 
hate  me— let  them  do  it,  but  the  people  whom  I  befriend  will  love 
and  honor  me. " 

"Ah,  sire,  you  think  too  well  of  the  people,"  said  Lacy.  "And 
mindful  of  my  promise,  I  must  say  that  you  have  given  cause  for 
dissatisfaction  to  all  classes,  plebeian  as  well  as  patrician." 

"How  so?"  cried  Joseph. 

"You  have  despised  their  prejudices,  and  mocked  at  customs 
which  in  their  superstitious  ignorance  they  hold  as  sacred.  They 
do  not  thank  you  for  enlightening  them.  They  call  you  an  un- 
believer and  an  apostate.  Do  not  be  displeased,  sire,  if  I  speak  so 
plainly  of  things  which  the  stupidity  of  your  subjects  regards  as  a 
crime.  I  come  as  your  majesty's  accuser,  because  I  come  as  the 
advocate  of  your  people,  imploring  you  to  be  patient  with  their 
blindness  and  their  folly. " 


580  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  What  now?    Is  there  any  special  complaint  against  me?" 

"  Yes,  sire.  Your  majesty  has  issued  an  edict  which  has  wounded 
the  people  in  those  relations  which  the  world  holds  sacred  ;  an  edict 
which  is  (forgive  me  if  I  speak  plain) — which  is — so  entirely  free 
from  prejudice,  that  it  trenches  almost — upon  the  limits  of 
barbarism. " 

"What  edict  can  you  mean?" 

"That  which  concerns  the  burial  of  the  dead,  sire.  I  beseech 
you,  revoke  it ;  for  the  people  cry  out  that  nothing  is  sacred  to  the 
emperor — not  even  death  and  the  grave !  Leave  them  their  ceme- 
teries and  their  tombs,  that  they  may  go  thither  and  pray  for  the 
souls  of  the  departed  !"  * 

"That  they  may  go  thither  and  enjoy  their  superstitious  rites  !" 
cried  Joseph,  indignantly.  "  I  will  not  allow  my  svibjects  to  seek 
for  their  dead  underground.  They  shall  not  solemnize  the  corrup- 
tion of  the  body  ;  they  shall  tvn-n  their  eyes  to  Heaven,  and  there 
seek  for  the  immortal  spirit  of  the  departed  !  They  shall  not  love 
the  dust  of  their  forefathers,  but  their  souls  !" 

"Sire,  you  speak  of  an  ideal  people.  To  bring  mankind  to  such 
a  state  of  perfection  would  require  the  reign  of  a  Methusaleh  !  It  is 
too  soon  for  such  edicts.  The  people,  so  far  from  appreciating, 
abhor  them. " 

"Are  you  really  in  earnest,  Lacy?"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  with 
flashing  eyes. 

"Yes,  sire,  they  are  indignant.  Yesterday  the  first  burial, 
according  to  your  majesty's  edict,  took  place,  and  since  then  the 
people  are  in  a  state  of  revolt.  To-day  there  are  of  course  other 
bodies  to  be  interred.  There  is  not  a  vagrant  in  the  streets  that  does 
not  utter  threats  against  your  majesty.  From  the  burgher  to  the 
beggar,  every  man  feels  that  his  sacred  rights  have  been  invaded. 
They  feel  tliat  the  prohibition  of  cofhns  and  burying-grounds  does 
not  reach  the  rich,  who  have  their  hereditary  tombs  in  churches  and 
chapels,  but  the  people,  who  have  no  such  privileges." 

"  The  people  for  whose  sakes  I  would  have  converted  the  mould 
of  the  burying-ground  into  fertile  fields,  and  spared  them  the  cost 
of  a  useless  coffin,  which,  instead  of  rotting  in  the  ground,  would 
have  been  so  much  more  wood  to  warm  them  in  winter,  and  cook 
the  food  for  their  hungry,  living  bodies  !" 

"But,  your  majesty,  they  are  not  sufficiently  enlightened  to  com- 
prehend your  ideas.  Revoke  the  order,  sire — in  mercy  to  their 
ignorance,  revoke  the  order  !" 

"Revoke  it!"  cried  Joseph,  furiously.  "Never  will  I  make  such 
a  concession  to  stupidity  and  malice  !" 

"Then,"  said  Lacy,  gravely,  "it  is  possible  that  the  fiames  of  a 
revolution  may  burst  forth  to  consume  this  unhappy  laud.  Oh, 
sire,  have  mercy  upon  the  poor  people,  whose  ej'es  cannot  endure  the 
light  of  reform  1  Preserve  yourself  and  j^our  subjects  from  the  hor- 
rors of  a  revolt,  which,  although  it  would  be  ultimately  quelled, 
might  cost  bloodshed  and  misery !  I  have  never  seen  such  excite- 
ment as  prevails  throughout  the  streets  of  Vienna.  Thousands  of 
men  and  women  tlirong  tlie  quarter  where  the  body  lies. " 

"When  does  the  funeral  take  place?" 

"At  three  o'clock  this  afternoon,  sire." 

"In  one  hour,  then,"  said  the  emperor,  glancing  at  the  clock. 

"Yes,  sire;   and  it  may  be  an  hour  of  tribulation,  unless  your 


NEW-FASHIONED  OBSEQUIES.  581 

majesty  has  the  magnanimity  to  prevent  it !  To  discourage  idle 
assemblages,  your  majesty  has  forbidden  the  peojile  to  follow 
funerals.  The  effect  of  this  prohibition  is,  that  the  poor  woman 
who  is  to  be  buried  this  afternoon  will  be  followed,  not  by  her  friends, 
but  by  thousands  who  have  never  seen  or  known  her.  The  police 
have  done  their  best  to  disperse  the  rioters,  but  so  far  in  vain. " 

"  Then  there  is  ah-eady  a  revolt, "  cried  the  emperor. 

"But  for  this  I  never  should  have  presumed  to  deter  your  majesty 
from  enjoying  yovir  ride  to-day." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  I  would  retreat  before  my  own  subjects?" 

"Sire,  the  wrath  of  the  populace  is  like  that  of  a  tiger  just 
escaped  from  its  cage.  In  its  bloodthirstiness  it  tears  to  pieces  every 
thing  that  comes  in  its  way." 

"  I  am  curious  to  witness  its  antics, "  replied  the  emperor,  touch- 
ing the  bell. 

" Sire, "  exclaimed  Lacy,  staying  Joseph's  hand,  "what  would 
you  do?" 

"  Mount  my  horse,  and  go  to  the  funeral. " 

"  What !  To  exasperate  the  crowd  !  To  endanger  yourself,  and 
drive  these  poor,  half-frantic  creatures  to  desperation  !  Oh,  by  the 
love  you  bear  us  all,  I  beseech  you,  have  mercy  upon  those  whose 
only  possession  on  earth  is  oftentimes  the  grave !  You  would  de- 
prive their  children  of  the  only  comfort  left  them — that  of  praying 
over  the  ashes  of  the  departed.  You  would  deprive  those  who  are 
condemned  to  live  like  brutes,  of  the  comfort  of  dying  like  men. 
You  would  have  their  bodies  sewed  in  sacks  and  thi'own  into  ditches 
where  they  are  not  even  allowed  to  moulder,  but  must  be  destroyed 
by  lime.  No  tombstone  permitted  over  their  remains,  nothing  to 
remind  their  weeping  relatives  that  they  were  ever  alive  !  Oh,  this 
is  cruel !  It  may  be  a  great  thought,  sire,  but  it  is  a  barbarous 
deed  !  I  know  how  bold  I  am,  but  my  conscience  compels  me  to 
speak  ;  and  were  I  to  lose  the  emperor's  favor,  I  must  obey  its  faith- 
ful monitions.  Revoke  the  edict,  sire  !  There  is  yet  time.  In  one 
hour  it  will  be  too  late  !" 

The  emperor  looked  despondently  at  Lacy' s  agitated  countenance. 
Then,  without  a  word,  he  turned  to  his  escritoir^e  and  hastily  began 
to  write.  His  writing  concluded,  he  handed  the  paper  to  Lacy,  and 
commanded  him  to  read  it  aloud.     Lacy  bowed  and  read  as  follows  : 

"As  I  have  learned  that  the  living  are  so  material  in  their  ideas 
as  to  set  great  store  upon  the  privilege  of  having  their  bodies  rot  and 
become  carrion  after  death,  I  shall  concern  myself  in  no  way  as  to 
the  manner  of  their  burying.  Let  it  be  known,  therefore,  that  hav- 
ing shown  the  wisdom  of  disposing  of  the  dead  after  the  manner 
described  in  my  edict,  I  shall  force  no  man  to  be  wise.  Those  who 
are  not  convinced  of  its  expediency,  are  free  to  dispose  of  their 
carcasses  as  they  see  fit. "  * 

When  Lacy  had  read  to  the  end,  the  emperor  called  imperatively 
for  Giinther.     He  obeyed  the  summons  at  once. 

"This  letter  to  the  lord  high  chancellor,  Prince  Kaunitz, "  said 
he.  "  I  wish  this  wi-iting  to  be  printed  and  posted  at  the  corners  of 
the  streets.  Then  hasten  to  the  Leopold  suburbs,  where  any  one  of 
the  police  will  show  you  to  the  house  whence  the  funeral  is  to  take 
place.  Go  within,  and  tell  the  relatives  of  the  deceased  that  I  give 
them  permission  to  bedizen  their  corpse  in  whatever  style  they  may 
*Hubner,  "Life  of  Joseph  II.,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  535. 


582  JOSEPH   II.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

choose,  and  to  bury  it  in  a  coffin.  Take  a  carriage  and  drive 
fast." 

Giinther  bowed  and  turned  to  leave.  "  Stop  a  moment,"  contin- 
ued the  emperor.  "  Go  to  the  chief  of  police,  and  tell  him  that  the 
peojDle  must  not  be  disturbed  in  any  way.  They  must  be  allowed  to 
disperse  at  their  pleasure.    Now,  Giinther,  be  quick." 

With  a  look  of  unspeakable  affection  Joseph  g-ave  his  hand  to 
Lacy.  "  Lacy,"  said  he,  "  if  I  have  made  this  great  sacrifice  to-day, 
it  is  neither  from  conviction  nor  fear;  it  is  to  show  you  what  in- 
fluence your  words  have  over  me,  and  to  thank  you  for  the  manli- 
ness with  which  you  have  ventured  to  blame  my  acts.  Few  princes 
jjossess  the  jewel  of  a  faithful  friend.  I  thank  God  that  this  jewel 
is  mine!"  * 


CHAPTER    CLIII. 

THE   POPE    IN    VIENNA. 

A  KEPORT,  almost  incredible,  was  obtaining  currency  in  Vienna. 
It  was  said  that  the  pope  was  about  to  visit  the  emperor.  Many  a 
German  emperor,  in  centuries  gone  by,  had  made  his  pilgrimage  to 
Rome;  but  never  before  had  the  vicar  of  Christ  honored  the  sover- 
eign of  Austria  by  coming  to  him. 

I'ius  VI.,  confounded  by  the  headlong  innovations  of  Joseph,  and 
trembling  lest  his  reforms  should  end  in  a  total  subversion  of  relig- 
ion, had  resolved,  in  the  extremity  of  his  distress,  to  become  a  pil- 
grim himself,  and  to  visit  the  enemy  in  his  own  stronghold. 

To  this  intent  he  had  dispatched  an  autographic  letter  announc- 
ing his  intention,  to  which  the  emperor  had  replied  by  another, 
expressive  of  his  extreme  anxiety  to  become  personally  acquainted 
with  his  holiness,  and  to  do  him  all  filial  reverence.  Furthermore, 
he  begged  that  the  pope  would  relinquish  his  intention  of  taking  up 
his  abode  at  the  nuncio,  and  would  consent  to  be  the  guest  of  the 
imperial  family. 

The  pope  having  graciously  acceded  to  this  wish,  the  apartments 
of  the  late  empress  were  prepared  for  his  occupation.  Now  Joseph 
was  quite  aware  that  these  apartments  abounded  in  secret  doors 
and  private  stairways,  by  which  ]\Iaria  Theresa's  many  petitioners 
had  been  accustomed  to  find  their  way  to  the  privy  purse  of  the 
munificent  empress,  and  so  had  diminished  the  imperial  treasury  of 
several  millions. 

The  emperor,  dreading  lest  these  secret  aveniies  should  be  used 
by  the  friends  of  the  church  to  visit  the  pope  in  private,  caused  the 
stairways  to  be  denioiislied,  and  all  the  doors  to  be  walled  u]i.  He 
allowed  but  one  issue  from  the  a))artuH'ii1s  of  his  holiness.  This  one 
led  into  the  grand  corridor,  and  was  guarded  by  two  sentries,  who 
had  orders  to  allow  noboflyto  enter  who  was  iinprovided  with  a  ])ass 

*  Tlie  burial  edict  was  as  follows:  "  As  the  burial  of  the  dead  has  for  its  object 
the  speedy  dissolution  of  the  bod.y,  and  as  nothin>j  hinders  that  dissohition  more  than 
the  casing  of  the  corjjse  in  a  coflln,  it  is  ordained  that  all  dead  bodies  shall  be  stripped 
of  their  clotUinp,  and  sewed  up  in  a  linen  sack,  laid  in  an  open  collin,  and  brought  to 
the  place  of  interment.  A  hole  siiall  be  dug  six  feet  long  and  four  feet  wide,  and  the 
corpse  V)eingtalien  out  of  the  coirm,  shall  be  i)ut  into  this  grave,  strewed  plentifully 
with  quicklime,  and  covered  with  earth.  If  more  than  one  corpse  is  to  be  buried, 
the  bodies  can  all  be  put  in  the  same  grave."— Gross-Hofflnger,  "  History  of  the  Life 
&ud  Reign  of  Joseph  11.,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  140. 


THE  POPE  IN   VIENNA.  583 

signed  by  Joseph  himself.  He  was  quite  willing  to  receive  the 
pope  as  a  guest ;  but  he  was  resolved  that  he  should  hold  no  com- 
niunioation  with  his  bishops,  while  on  Austrian  soil.* 

Meanwhile,  every  outward  honor  was  to  be  paid  to  the  head  of 
the  church.  Not  only  had  his  rooms  been  superbly  decorated,  but 
the  churches,  also,  were  in  all  their  splendor.  The  vestments  of  the 
clergy  had  been  renewed,  new  altar-cloths  woven,  and  magnificent 
hangings  ordered  for  the  papal  throne  erected  for  the  occasion. 

Finally,  the  momentous  day  dawned,  and  Vienna  put  on  its  holi- 
day attire.  The  houses  were  wi-eathed  with  garlands,  the  streets  were 
hung  with  arches  of  evergreen.  Ahvmdred  thousand  Viennese  pressed 
toward  the  cathedral,  where  the  pope  was  to  repair  for  prayer,  and 
another  throng  was  hastening  toward  the  palace,  where  the  pope 
and  the  emperor  were  to  alight  together.  In  their  impatient  curios- 
ity the  people  had  forsaken  their  work.  No  one  was  content  to 
remain  within  doors.  Everybody  said  to  everybody,  "The  pope  has 
come  to  Vienna  ;"  and  then  followed  the  question  : 

"Why  has  his  holiness  come  to  Vienna?" 

"  To  bless  the  emperor,  and  approve  his  great  deeds, "  said  the 
friends  of  Joseph. 

"To  bring  him,  if  possible,  to  a  sense  of  his  sacrilegious  persecu- 
tion of  the  church, "  said  his  enemies. 

This  question  was  not  only  verbally  agitated,  but  it  formed  the 
subject  of  thousands  of  pamphlets,  which  fluttered  from  many  a 
window  toward  the  crowds  who,  in  breathless  anxiety,  were  await- 
ing the  advent  of  Pius  VI. 

"The  Arrival  of  the  Pope." 

"Why  has  the  Pope  come  to  Vienna?" 

"What  is  the  Pope?" 

These  were  the  titles  of  the  brochures  which  were  converting  the 
streets  into  a  vast  reading-room,  and  preparing  the  minds  of  the 
readers  for  the  impressions  it  was  desirable  to  create  on  the  subject. 

At  last  the  deep  bells  of  St.  Stephen's  opened  their  brazen  throats. 
This  signified  that  the  pope  and  the  emperor  were  at  the  gates  of  the 
city.  The  consent  of  the  latter  having  been  asked  in  the  matter  of 
the  bell-ringing,  he  had  replied  to  Cardinal  Megazzi :  "  By  all 
means.  I  wonder  you  should  ask  me  the  question,  when  bells  are 
the  artillery  of  the  church. "  f 

The  people  received  the  tidings  with  such  wild  joy  that,  in  their 
eagerness,  several  persons  were  trampled  to  death.  But  on  they 
rushed,  seeing  and  hearing  notliing  until  eight  lives  were  sacrificed 
to  the  fierce  curiosity  of  the  mob. 

And  now  the  iron  tongues  of  every  bell  in  Vienna  proclaimed  that 
the  pope  had  entered  the  city.  The  crowd,  who,  up  to  this  moment, 
had  laughed,  sung,  and  shouted,  suddenly  ceased  their  clamor. 
Nothing  was  heard  save  the  musical  chime  of  the  bells,  while  every 
eye  was  fixed  upon  a  small  white  spot  which  was  just  becoming 

*  It  was  to  Joseph's  manifest  advantage  that  the  pope  should  not  reside  outside 
of  the  palace ;  and  the  emperor  showed  his  ingenuity  in  the  various  strategic  move- 
ments by  which  he  defeated  the  purpose  of  his  visit.  One  of  the  pope's  most 
zealous  adherents  was  the  Bishop  of  Gortz.  \\Tien  the  pope  left  Rome  for  Vienna, 
he  would  pass  through  Gortz.  Joseph  summoned  the  bisliop  to  Vienna,  and  so 
prevented  a  meeting  between  them  at  Gortz;  and  on  the  day  of  the  pope's  arrival 
in  Vienna,  the  bishop  received  peremptory  orders  to  return  to  his  diocese.  He 
was  not  allowed  to  communicate  with  the  pope,  not  even  to  see  him  as  he  passed. 
— Friedel's  "  Letters  from  Vienna,"  vol.  i.,  p.  233. 

tFriedel's  Letters,  vol.  i.,  p.  213. 

38 


584  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

visible.  The  point  grew  larger,  and  took  form.  First  came  the 
outriders,  then  the  imperial  equipage  drawn  by  eight  milk-white 
horses  caparisoned  witli  crimson  and  gold.  Nearer  and  nearer  came 
the  cortege,  until  the  people  recognized  the  noble  old  man,  whose 
white  locks  flowed  from  under  his  velvet  cap,  the  supreme  pontiff, 
Antonio  Braschi,  Pope  Pius  VI. 

Never,  throughout  his  pontifical  career,  had  the  pope  beheld  such 
a  crowd  before.  And  these  hundreds  of  thousands  had  assembled  to 
bid  him  welcome.  A  smile  of  gratification  flitted  over  his  hand- 
some features,  and  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  face  of  his  companion. 

The  countenance  of  the  emperor  wore  a  satisfied  expression ;  by 
some  it  might  have  been  regarded  as  derisive. 

He  had  seen  what  the  pope,  in  the  simple  joy  of  his  heart,  had 
not  observed.  The  people  who,  in  the  presence  of  the  high  digni- 
taries of  the  church,  had  been  accustomed  to  kneel  and  ask  a  bless- 
ing, were  standing,  although  the  prelate  who  stood  in  their  midst 
was  the  sovereign  pontiff  himself ;  and  Joseph,  as  he  contemplated 
his  subjects,  exulted  in  secret. 

The  cortege,  impeded  by  tlie  throng,  moved  slowly  toward  the 
imperial  palace.  When  it  drew  up  before  the  gates,  Joseph,  spring- 
ing from  the  carriage,  assisted  the  pope  to  alight,  and  accompanied 
him  to  his  apartments.  Occasionally  Pius  raised  his  mild  eyes  to 
the  emperor's  face  and  smiled,  while  Joseph,  in  nowise  discomposed 
by  the  honor  of  receiving  the  chief  pastor  of  Christendom,  walked 
proudly  by  his  side. 

They  passed  through  the  magnificent  state  apartments  designed 
for  the  occupation  of  the  pope  ;  but  not  until  they  had  reached  his 
private  sitting-room,  did  the  emperor  invite  him  to  rest  after  his 
fatiguing  walk. 

"  It  has  not  fatigued  me, "  replied  Pius.  "  It  has  interested  me,  on 
the  contrary,  to  traverse  a  palace  wliich  has  been  the  residence  of  so 
many  pious  princes.  I  esteem  it  a  great  privilege  to  inhabit  these 
rooms  whose  deceased  occupants  have  eacli  in  his  turn  received  the 
benediction  of  my  honored  predecessors — " 

"  But  who  never  were  blessed  hj  the  love  of  their  subjects, "  re- 
plied Joseph,  interrupting  him.  "To  my  mind,  this  is  a  blessing 
better  worth  striving  for  than  a  papal  benediction  ;  and  it  is  the  aim 
of  my  life  to  deserve  it." 

"Doubtless  your  majesty  will  reach  your  aim,"  replied  the  pope, 
with  courtesy.  "  I  have  confidence  in  the  rectitude  of  your  majestj^'s 
intentions  ,  and  if  I  have  made  this  pilgrimage  to  Vienna,  it  is  be- 
cause, relying  upon  your  honesty  of  purpose,  I  hope  to  convince  j'ou 
that  it  has  been  misapplies!.  The  visit  of  the  pope  to  the  Austrian 
emperor  is  a  concession  which  1  cheerfully  make,  if  by  tliat  conces- 
sion I  can  induce  him  to  pause  in  a  career  wliich  has  sorely  wounded 
my  heart,  and  lias  been  the  occasion  of  so  much  scandal  to  our  holy 
mother  the  church. " 

"I  fear  tiiat  your  lioliuess  has  been  mistaken  in  your  estimate  of 
me,"  replied  Josepli,  turning  his  flasliing  eyes  upon  the  imploring 
face  of  the  pope.  "However  I  might  be  moved  by  the  patlios  of 
your  words,  a  sovereign  has  no  riglit  to  listen  to  the  pleadings  of  his 
heart.  'Tis  the  head  tliat  must  guide  and  influence  liis  conduct.  I 
fear,  therefore,  that  your  linlin(>ss  will  Ix"  dis;i])]K>inted  in  the  result 
of  your  visit  here.  I  accept  your  journey  to  Vienna  as  a  distin- 
guished mark  of  your  papal  good-will,  and  am  rejoiced  to  have  it  in 


THE  FLIGHT.  585 

my  power  to  show  all  possible  filial  reverence  to  your  holiness. 
Neither  I  nor  my  subjects  will  deny  the  consideration  which  is  due 
to  the  spirihial  head  of  the  church  ;  but  he  on  his  part  must  refrain 
from  touching  with  his  consecrated  hand  the  things  of  this  world 
which  concern  him  not." 

"It  is  my  duty  to  attend  to  all  the  affairs  of  holy  church, 
whether  spiritual  or  temporal, "  replied  the  pope,  gently. 

"  The  temporal  affairs  of  the  church  concern  your  nuncio  and  my 
minister, "  said  Joseph,  with  impatience.  "And  as  your  holiness 
has  entered  at  once  upon  a  controversy  with  me  respecting  my  acts 
toward  the  church,  I  declare  distinctly  to  you  that  I  shall  not  recede 
from  the  least  of  them ;  and  that  your  journey  to  Vienna,  if  its 
object  is  to  influence  my  policy  as  sovereign  of  these  realms,  is 
already  a  failure.  The  reasons  for  my  conduct  are  satisfactory  to 
me,  and  no  power  on  earth  shall  move  me  from  the  position  I  have 
taken."* 

"  I  will  not  altogether  give  up  the  hope  I  have  cherished  of  moving 
your  majesty 's  heart, "  replied  tlie  pope,  earnestly.  "  I  shall  continue 
to  pray  that  it  may  be  my  privilege  to  convince  you  of  your  errors, 
and  lead  you  back  to  the  path  of  justice  and  of  religion. " 

"  Which  means  that  you  expect  me  to  retract !"  cried  Joseph,  im- 
petviously.  "  Never  will  I  retract  what  I  have  said  or  done,  for  I  act 
from  conviction,  and  conviction  does  not  slip  off  and  on  like  a  glove  ! 
But  let  us  speak  no  more  on  this  subject.  If  your  holiness  will  write 
down  your  canonical  objections  to  my  proceedings  against  the 
church,  I  will  lay  them  before  my  theologians  for  examination.  My 
chancellor  shall  reply  to  them  ministerially,  and  the  correspondence 
can  be  published  for  the  edification  of  my  subjects.  Meanwhile,  I 
shall  endeavor  to  deserve  the  good-will  of  your  holiness  by  acting 
toward  my  honored  guest  the  part  of  an  obliging  and  hospitable  host. 
This  reminds  me  that  I  have  already  trespassed  upon  your  time,  and 
have  deprived  you  of  the  repose  which  a  traveller  always  craves 
after  a  long  journey.  I  hope  that  your  holiness  will  overlook  this 
intrusion,  and  pardon  me  if  my  great  anxiety  to  enjoy  your  society 
has  caused  me  to  forget  the  consideration  due  to  my  tired  guest. " 

With  these  words  the  emperor  retired.  The  pope  followed  his 
retreating  figure  with  a  glance  of  profound  sadness. 

"  I  fear, "  thought  lie,  "  that  Joseph  is  indeed  irreclaimable. "  Here 
he  raised  his  soft  dark  eyes  to  heaven,  and  continued  in  a  low  mur- 
mur, "For  a  time  the  Lord  endureth  with  mildness,  but  His  might 
overcometh  the  blasphemer,  and  he  vanisheth  :  while  holy  church 
remaineth  unchangeable  forever !" 


CHAPTER    CLIV. 

THE  FLIGHT. 

"You  persist  in  your  refusal V"  cried  Eskeles  Flies,  in  an  angry 
voice.     "You  dare  to  oppose  the  will  of  your  father?" 

"  I  persist  in  my  refusal, "  replied  Rachel  firmly,  lifting  her  dark, 
tearful  eyes  to  her  father's  excited  countenance.  "I  must  rebel 
against  your  authority,  my  father,  for  you  would  compromise  my 
*The  emperor's  words.— Hubner,  i.,  p.  119. 


586  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

earthly  happiness  and  my  salvation.  Oh,  dear  father,  do  not  harden 
your  heart  against  me  !     In  mercy  heed  my  prayers  !" 

With  these  words  Rachel  would  have  thrown  herself  upon  her 
father's  bosom.     But  he  thrust  her  from  him. 

"  'Tis  you  who  have  hardened  your  heart  against  the  law  of  God 
which  bids  the  child  obey  her  father, "  cried  he. 

"I  cannot  recognize  my  father's  authority  when  he  oversteps  his 
rights,  and  trenches  upon  mine  as  a  human  being, "  urged  Rachel.  "  I 
cannot  perjure  myself  by  accepting,  as  a  husband,  a  man  whom  I 
do  not  love.  He  is  a  coarse,  illiterate  creature,  who  honors  nothing 
but  wealth,  loves  nothing  but  gold  !" 

"  He  is  the  son  of  the  richest  merchant  in  Brussels,  and  the  em- 
peror has  made  a  nobleman  of  his  father.  He  is  your  equal,  or 
rather  he  is  your  superior,  for  he  is  richer,  much  richer  than 
we." 

"  He  my  equal !     He  cannot  understand  me, "  cried  Rachel. 

Her  father  laughed.  "  Not  your  equal,  because  he  does  not  go 
into  raptures  over  young  Mozart,  and  does  not  indulge  in  speculative 
theology,  but  worships  God  after  the  manner  of  his  fathers  ! — a  Jew, 
in  short,  who  hates  the  Christian  and  glories  in  his  Jewish  birth- 
right !" 

"  Yes, "  said  Rachel,  shuddering,  "  a  Jew  in  feature,  speech,  and 
spirit.  Not  such  a  noble  Israelite  as  you,  my  father,  but  a  man 
possessing  every  repulsive  peculiarity  which  has  made  the  Jew  the 
pariah  of  the  civilized  world.  Oh,  father,  dear  father,  do  not  barter 
me  for  gold  !  Let  me  remain  your  child,  your  darling ;  living  and 
dying  in  the  home  which  your  love  has  made  like  Eden  to  my 
girlhood !" 

"  I  have  promised  your  hand  to  Bai"on  von  Meyer, "  was  the  curt 
reply. 

"I  will  not  give  it!"  cried  Rachel,  frantically.  "You  force  me 
to  disobedience,  by  requiring  of  me  that  which  is  impossible." 

"I  shall  force  you  to  obedience,  rebellious  girl,  for  our  laws  in- 
vest the  father  with  absolute  autliority  over  liis  cliild,  and  I  shall  use 
my  right  to  rescue  you  from  dishonor.  I  read  your  heart,  Racliel, 
and  therein  I  see  written  the  history  of  your  perfidy  and  shame. " 

"Tlien  you  have  read  falsely, "  exclaimed  Rachel,  with  indigna- 
tion. "Up  to  this  day  I  have  kept  the  oath  I  made  to  remain  a 
Jewess  !  And  no  mortal,  were  he  ten  times  my  father,  has  the  right 
to  couple  my  name  with  perfidy  or  shame  !" 

"  You  dare  look  me  in  the  face  and  deny  your  disgrace  !"  said  her 
father,  trembling  with  anger.  "You,  who  at  early  morning  in  my 
own  garden  have  listened  to  the  vows  of  a  false- tongued  Christian  ! 
You  who  have  sworn  to  be  no  man's  wife,  if  not  liis  !" 

"Ah,  you  know  all!"  cried  Rachel,  in  accents  of  supreme  joy. 
"God  be  praised,  there  need  be  no  more  concealment  between  us  ! 
Yes,  father,  I  love  Giinther,  and  if  I  be  not  permitted  to  become  his 
wife,  in  tlie  miglit  of  my  love  I  would  not  scorn  to  be  his  hand- 
maid !  I  have  loved  him  since  you  first  brought  him  liither,  and 
proudly  presented  him  as  the  emperor's  favorite.  Oh,  my  father,  we 
were  not  rich  then  !" 

"  No — and  he  would  have  scorned  to  ask  you  to  wed  him.  Now 
he  would  degrade  the  heiress  of  my  wealth  by  seeking  to  make  her 
his  wife. " 

"Degrade  me  !"  echoed  Rachel,  with  a  blush  of  indignation.     "I 


THE  FLIGHT.  587 

should  be  honored  by  bearing  his  name,  not  because  he  is  the  em- 
peror's favorite,  but  because  he  is  wortliy  of  my  love." 

"  And  yet,  God  be  praised,  Rachel  Eskeles  can  never  be  the  wife 
of  a  Christian!"  shouted  the  banker,  triumphantly,  "for  she  has 
sworn  by  the  memory  of  her  mother  to  die  a  Jewess  !" 

"  She  will  keep  her  oath  unless  her  father  release  her, "  replied 
Rachel.  "  But  oh  !"  added  she,  falling  on  her  knees  and  raising  her 
white  arms  above  her  head,  "'he  will  have  pity  upon  the  misery  of 
his  only  child  ;  he  will  not  condemn  her  to  despair  !  Have  mercy, 
have  mercy,  dear  father !  Be  your  generous  self,  and  take  me  to 
your  heart.  Release  me,  and  let  me  become  a  Christian  and  the 
wife  of  my  lover  !  He  cares  nothing  for  your  wealth,  he  asks  noth- 
ing but  my  hand  !" 

Her  father  glared  at  her  with  a  look  that  seemed  almost  like  hate. 
"  You  are  a  Jewess, "  hissed  he,  "  and  a  Jewess  you  shall  die  !" 

"I  am  no  Jewess  at  heart,  father.  I  have  been  educated  in  a 
Christian  country,  and  after  the  manner  of  Christian  women.  And 
you,  too,  have  renounced  your  birthright.  You  have  eaten  and 
drunk  with  the  Gentiles  ;  you  have  cut  your  hair,  and  have  adopted 
their  dress.  Nay,  more !  You  have  parted  with  your  name,  and 
have  accepted  a  Christian  title.  Why,  then,  have  you  not  the 
manliness  to  abjure  the  God  of  revenge  and  hate,  and  openly  adore 
the  Christian  God  of  love  and  mercy?" 

"  I  will  live  and  die  a  Jew  !"  cried  the  banker,  choking  with  rage. 
"  I  swear  it  again,  and  may  I  be  accursed  if  I  ever  break  my  oath  !" 

"Then,  father,  release  7iie  from  the  lie  that  follows  me  like  an 
evil  shadow,  blasting  my  life  here  and  hereafter.  Give  me  to  my 
lover.  Keep  your  wealth  to  enrich  your  tribe,  but  give  me  your 
blessing  and  your  love  !" 

"You  shall  remain  a  Jewess  !"  thundered  her  father. 

"Is  this  your  last  w^ord?"  cried  Rachel,  springing  to  her  feet. 
"Is  this  your  last  word?" 

"It  is, "  replied  he,  eying  her  with  cold  cruelty. 

"  Then  hear  my  determination.  I  have  sworn  fidelity  to  Giinther, 
and  if  I  must  choose  between  you,  I  give  myself  to  him.  I  will  not 
become  a  Christian,  for  such  was  my  oath ;  but  I  will  abjure 
Judaism." 

"And  become  a  Deist?" 

"  Call  it  what  you  will.     I  shall  adore  the  God  of  love  and  mercy. " 

"A  Deist!  Then  you  have  never  heard  what  punishment  awaits 
the  Deist  here.  You  do  not  know  that  the  emperor,  who  affects 
toleration,  has  his  vulnerable  heel,  and  will  not  tolerate  Deism.  The 
gentle  punishment  which  his  majesty  awards  to  Deism  is — that  of  the 
lash.  *  So  tliat  I  scarcely  think  you  would  dare  me  to  accuse  you  of 
that !  But  pshaw  !  I  go  too  far  in  my  fears.  My  daughter  will  rec- 
ognize her  folly,  and  yield  her  will  to  mine.  She  will  be,  as  she 
has  ever  been,  my  adored  child,  for  whose  happiness  I  can  never  do 
too  much  ;  whose  every  wish  it  shall  be  my  joy  to  gratify. " 

" I  have  but  one  wish — that  of  becoming  the  wife  of  Giinther." 

Her  father  affected  not  to  hear  her.  "  Yes, "  continued  he,  "  she 
will  verify  my  promise,  and  take  the  husband  I  have  chosen.  This 
marriage  will  be  a  fine  thing  for  both  parties,  for  I  give  my  daughter 
one-half  million  of  florins,  and  Baron  von  Meyer  gives  his  son  a 
million  cash  down.     Then  the  father-in-law  gives  three  hundred 

* Gross-Hofflnger,  ii.,  p.  160. 


588  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

florins  a  month  for  pin-money,  and  I  seven  hundred  ;  so  that  Rachel 
has  a  thousand  florins  a  mouth  for  her  little  caprices,  and  of  this  she 
is  to  render  no  account.  That  is>  a  pretty  dower  for  a  bride.  I  give 
uiy  daughter  a  trousseau  equal  in  magnificence  to  that  of  a  princess. 
Upon  her  equipage,  the  arms  of  our  two  houses  are  already  em- 
blazoned, and  to-morrow  four  of  the  finest  horses  in  Vienna  will 
conduct  the  Baroness  von  Meyer  to  her  husband's  palace.  I  con- 
gratulate you,  baroness.  No  Christian  woman  in  Vienna  shall  have 
an  establishment  like  j'ours. " 

"  I  shall  never  be  the  Baroness  von  Meyer, "  said  Rachel,  calmly, 
but  an  icy  chill  ran  through  her  veins,  for  she  loved  her  father,  and 
felt  that  they  must  shortly  part  forever. 

"Yes,  you  will  be  the  Baroness  von  Meyer  to-morrow.  I  have 
anticipated  all  your  objections.  The  rabbi  that  is  to  marry  you  is 
a  Pole.  He  will  not  understand  your  reply,  and  the  young  baron 
has  magnanimously  consented  to  overlook  any  little  informality  of 
which  your  folly  may  be  the  cause  ;  for  he  likes  money,  and  is  too 
good  a  Jew  not  to  aid  me  in  rescuing  my  heiress  from  disgrace.  You 
see  that  your  poor  little  struggles  will  all  be  in  vain.  Resign  your- 
self, then,  and  accept  the  brilliant  destiny  which  awaits  you." 

"I  will  sooner  die  than  consign  myself  to  misery  and  disgrace  !" 

"Be  easy  on  that  subject.  God  will  shield  you  from  misery,  and 
your  father's  watchful  eye  will  see  that  you  do  not  consign  yourself 
to  disgrace, "  replied  the  banker,  coldly.  ''  But  enough  of  words. 
Night  sets  in,  and  I  have  yet  a  few  preparations  to  make  for  to- 
morrow. It  is  proper  that  you  pass  the  last  evening  of  your  maiden 
life  in  solitude,  and  that  you  may  not  spend  it  in  weariness,  I  have 
ordered  your  drawing-rooms  to  be  lighted,  and  your  trousseau  to  be 
laid  out  for  your  inspection.  Go,  and  gladden  your  heart  with  its 
magnificence.     Good-night." 

So  saying,  Baron  Eskeles  Flies  left  the  room.  Rachel  heard  him 
turn  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  withdraw  it.  She  then  remembered 
that  the  drawing-rooms  were  lighted.  Perhaps  her  father  had 
neglected  to  fasten  some  of  the  doors  leading  thence  into  the 
hall.  She  sprang  to  the  door  of  communication,  and  flung  it  open. 
Tlie  rooms  were  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  the' sparkling  chande- 
liers of  crystal  looked  dowu  upon  a  wilderness  of  velvet,  satin,  flow- 
ers, lace,  and  jewels — truly  a  trousseau  for  a  princess. 

But  what  cared  Rachel  for  this?  Indeed,  she  saw  nothing,  save 
the  distant  doors  toward  which  she  sped  like  a  frightened  doe. 
Alas!  they,  too,  were  locked,  and  the  only  answers  to  her  frantic 
calls  were  the  mocking  echoes  of  her  own  voice. 

For  a  few  moments  she  leaned  against  the  wall  for  support ;  then 
her  glance  took  in  the  long  perspective  of  magnificence  which  was 
to  gild  the  hideous  sacrifice  of  a  whole  human  life,  and  she  mur- 
mured, softly  : 

"  I  must  be  free.  I  cannot  perjure  myself.  I  shall  keep  my  vow 
to  Giinther  or  die !  My  fatlier  is  no  father — he  is  my  jailer,  and  I 
owe  him  no  longer  the  obedience  of  a  child." 

She  went  slowly  back,  revolving  in  her  mind  what  she  should  do. 
Unconsciously  she  paused  bef(n-e  a  table  resplendent  with  trinkets, 
whose  surpassing  beauty  seemed  to  woo  the  young  girl  to  lier  fate. 
But  Racliel  was  no  longer  a  maiden  to  be  allured  by  dress.  The  ex- 
igencies of  the  hour  had  transformed  hev  into  a  brave  woman,  who 
was  donning  her  armor  and  preparing  for  the  fight. 


THE  FLIGHT.  589 

"Gtinther  awaits  me,"  said  she,  musing. 

But  why — where?  that  she  could  not  say.  But  she  felt  that  she 
must  free  herself  from  prison,  and  that  her  fate  now  lay  in  her  own 
hands. 

At  that  moment  she  stood  before  a  large  round  table  which  was 
just  under  the  principal  chandelier  of  her  superb  reception-room. 
Here  lay  dainty  boxes  containing  laces,  and  caskets  enclosing  jewels. 
Not  for  one  moment  did  she  think  of  tlieir  contents.  She  saw  but 
the  gilt  letters  which  wei-e  impressed  upon  the  red  morocco  cases. 

"  Rachel  von  Meyer  "  was  on  every  box  and  case.  In  her  father's 
mind  she  already  bore  another  name. 

"Racliel  von  Meyer  !"  said  she,  with  a  shudder.  "My  father  de- 
nies me  his  name  !     Who,  then,  am  I?" 

A  flush  of  modest  shame  overspread  her  face,  as  scarcely  daring 
to  articulate  the  words,  she  knelt,  and  murmured  : 

"  I  am  Rachel  Giinther.  And  if  such  be  my  name, "  continued  she, 
after  a  pause  of  rapture,  "  I  have  no  riglit  to  be  here  amid  the  treas- 
ures of  the  Baroness  von  Meyer.  I  must  away  from  this  house, 
which  is  no  longer  a  home  for  me.  Away,  away !  for  Giinther 
awaits  me. " 

And  now  she  looked  with  despair  at  the  locked  doors  and  the  lofty 
windows,  so  far,  far  from  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  if  I  had  but  wings  ! — I,  who  am  here  a  prisoner,  while  my 
heart  is  away  with  him  !" 

Suddenly  she  gave  a  start,  for  deliverance  was  possible.  She 
looked  from  the  window  as  if  to  measure  its  height,  and  then  she 
darted  through  the  rooms  until  she  saw  a  table  covered  with  silks. 
She  took  thence  a  roll  of  white,  heavy  ribbon,  and,  throwing  it 
before  her,  exclaimed  joyfully  : 

"It  is  long,  oh,  it  is  quite  long  enough.  And  strong  enough  to 
support  me.  Tliank  Heaven  !  it  is  dark,  and  I  shall  not  be  seen.  A 
gold  ducat  will  bribe  tlie  guard  at  the  postern— and  then  I  am  free  !" 

She  returned  to  her  sitting-room,  and,  with  trembling  haste, 
threw  a  dark  mantle  around  her.  Then,  looking  up  at  her  father's 
portrait,  her  eyes  filled  with  bitter  tears. 

"Farewell,  my  father,  farewell!" 

Scarcely  knowing  what  she  did,  she  fled  from  her  room,  and  re- 
turned to  the  only  object  which  possessed  any  more  interest  for  her 
there,  the  long,  long  ribbon  which,  like  a  gigantic  serpent,  lay 
glistening  on  the  floor  where  she  had  unrolled  it.  She  stooped  to 
pick  it  up,  and  trailing  it  after  her,  she  flew  from  room  to  room, 
until  she  came  to  the  last  one  of  the  suite  which  overlooked  the  park. 
She  opened  a  window,  and  listened. 

Nothing  was  heard  there  save  the  "  warbling  wind, "  that  wooed 
the  young  branches,  and  here  and  there  a  little  bird  that  ventured  its 
note  upon  the  night. 

Rachel  secured  the  ribbon  to  the  crosswork  of  the  window,  and 
then  let  it  fall  below.  Once  more  she  listened.  She  could  almost 
hear  the  beatings  of  her  own  heart,  but  nothing  else  broke  the 
silence  of  the  house. 

She  gave  one  quick  glance  around  her  beautiful  home  where  lay 
all  the  splendor  that  might  have  been  hers,  and  grasping  the  ribbon 
firmly  in  her  hands,  she  dropped  from  the  window  to  the  ground. 


590  JOSEPH   II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    CLV. 

THE     MARRIAGE     BEFORE     GOD. 

GuNTHER  had  returned  from  the  palace  to  his  own  lodgings  in  the 
city.  Here,  the  labors  of  the  day  over,  he  sat  dreaming  of  liis  love, 
wondering  whether  she  thought  of  him  during  these  dreary  weeks  of 
their  forced  parting. 

He  had  stretched  himself  upon  a  divan,  and,  with  his  head 
thrown  back  upon  the  cushion,  he  gave  himself  up  to  thoughts  of 
that  love  which  was  at  once  the  greatest  grief  and  the  greatest  joy 
of  his  life. 

"  Will  it  ever  end?"  thought  he.  "  Will  she  ever  consent  to  leave 
that  princely  home  for  me?" 

Sometimes  a  cloud  came  over  his  handsome,  noble  features,  some- 
times the  sunlight  of  happiness  broke  over  them,  and  then  he  smiled. 
And  on  he  dreamed,  haj^py  or  unhappy,  as  he  fancied  that  Rachel 
was  his,  or  was  parted  from  him  forever. 

The  door-bell  rang  with  a  clang  that  startled  him.  But  what  to 
him  was  the  impatience  of  those  who  sought  admittance  to  his 
house?  He  had  almost  begun  to  fancy  that  Rachel  was  before  him, 
and  he  was  vexed  at  the  intrusion. 

Meanwhile,  the  door  of  his  room  had  been  softly  opened,  but 
Giinther  had  not  heard  it.  He  heard  or  saw  nothing  but  his  peerless 
Rachel.  She  was  there  with  her  lustrous  eyes,  her  silky  hair,  her  pale 
and  beautiful  features.     She  was  there. 

What !  Did  he  dream?  She  was  before  him,  but  paler  than  her 
wont,  her  dark  eyes  fixed  upon  him  with  a  pleading  look,  her  lithe 
figure  swaj'ing  from  side  to  side,  as  with  uncertain  footsteps  she 
seemed  to  be  approaching  his  couch.  Good  God  !  Was  it  an  appa- 
rition ?    What  had  happened  ? 

Giinther  started  to  his  feet,  and  cried  out,  "  O  my  Rachel,  my 
beloved !" 

"  It  is  I, "  said  she,  in  a  faltering  voice.  "  Before  you  take  me  to 
your  heart,  hear  me,  Giinther.  I  have  fled  from  my  father's  house 
forevei' — for  he  would  have  sold  me  to  a  man  whom  I  abhor,  and 
whom  I  could  never  have  married,  had  my  heart  been  free.  I  bring 
neither  gold  nor  jewels.  I  come  to  you  a  beggar — my  inheritance  a 
father's  curse,  my  dowry  naught  but  my  love  and  faith.  So  dowered 
and  so  portioned,  will  you  take  me,  Giinther?" 

Giinther  looked  upon  his  love  with  eyes  wherein  she  must  have 
read  consolation  for  all  her  trials,  for  her  sweet  lips  parted  with  a 
happy  smile. 

"My  treasure!"  was  his  reply,  as  he  took  her  little  trembling 
hand,  and  pressed  it  fondly  within  his  own.  "Come,  my  Rachel, 
come  and  see  how  I  have  longed  for  this  day." 

lie  dn;w  her  forward,  and  opened  a  door  opposite  to  the  one  by 
which  she  had  entered. 

"Come,  your  home  is  ready,  my  own." 

They  entered  together,  and  Rachel  found  herself  in  a  drawing- 
room  where  taste  and  elegance  amply  atoned  for  the  absence  of 
splendor. 

"Now,  see  your  sitting-room." 

Nothing  could  be  more  chei-rful  or  homelike  than  the  ai^point- 


THE  PARK.  591 

ments  of  this  cosy  apartment,  lighted  like  the  drawing-room  by  a 
tasteful  chandelier. 

"  There, "  said  Gunther,  pointing  to  a  door,  "  is  your  dressing- 
room,  and  within,  your  chamber,  my  Rachel.  For  six  months  this 
dwelling  has  awaited  its  mistress,  and  that  she  might  never  enter 
it  unawares,  it  has  been  nightly  lighted  for  her  coming.  I  was 
almost  temjited  to  despair,  beloved.  You  have  saved  me  from  a 
discouragement  that  was  undermining  my  health.  Now  you  are 
here,  and  all  is  well.  When  shall  the  priest  bless  our  nuptials? 
This  very  night,  shall  he  not,  my  bride?" 

"  He  can  never  bless  them, "  replied  Rachel,  solemnly. 

Gunther  turned  pale. 

"  Never?    You  have  not,  then,  come  to  be  my  wife?" 

"I  cannot  be  your  wife  according  to  human  rites,  Gtlnther,  for 
well  you  know  that  I  have  sworn  never  to  become  a  Christian.  But 
I  am  yours  for  time  and  eternity,  and  knowing  my  own  heart,  I 
accept  the  world's  scorn  for  your  dear  sake.  Earth  refuses  to  bless 
our  nuptials,  but  God  will  hear  our  vows.  Gunther,  will  you  reject 
me  because  I  am  a  Jewess?" 

Gunther  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  her  forehead,  and  sank  on  his 
knees  before  her. 

"  Rachel, "  said  he,  raising  his  right  hand  to  heaven,  "  I  swear  to 
love  you  for  better  or  for  worse,  devoting  my  life  to  your  happiness. 
On  my  knees  I  swear  before  God  to  honor  you  as  my  wife,  and  to  be 
faithful  and  true  to  you  until  death  does  us  part." 

Rachel  then  knelt  at  his  side,  and  laying  her  hand  in  his,  she 
repeated  her  vows.  Then  they  kissed  each  other,  and  Gunther,  tak- 
ing her  in  his  arms,  pressed  her  to  his  throbbing  heart. 

"We  are  husband  and  wife, "said  he.  "God  has  received  our 
vows,  and  now,  Rachel,  you  are  mine,  for  He  has  blessed  and  sanc- 
tioned your  entrance  into  my  house  !" 


CHAPTER    CLVI. 
THE  PARK. 

The  first  days  of  a  smiling  spring  had  filled  the  park  with  hun- 
dreds of  splendid  equipages  and  prancing  horsemen.  There  was 
the  carriage  of  the  Princess  Esterhazy,  with  twenty  outriders  in  the 
livery  of  the  prince  ;  that  of  the  new  Prince  Palm,  whose  four  black 
horses  wore  their  harness  of  pure  gold  ;  there  was  the  gilded,  fairy - 
like  v4s-d-vis  of  the  beautiful  Countess  Thun,  its  panels  decorated  with 
paintings  from  the  hands  of  one  of  the  first  artists  of  the  day  ;  the 
coach  of  the  Countess  Dietrichstein,  drawn  by  four  milk-white 
horses,  whose  delicate  pasterns  were  encircled  by  jewelled  bracelets 
worthy  of  glittering  upon  the  arm  of  a  beauty.  In  short,  the  aris- 
tocracy of  Austria,  Hungary,  and  Lombardy  were  there,  in  all  the 
splendor  of  their  wealth  and  rank.  It  seemed  as  though  Spring  were 
holding  a  levee,  and  the  nobles  of  the  empire  had  thronged  her 
flowery  courts. 

Not  only  they,  but  the  people,  too,  had  come  to  greet  young 
Spring.  They  crowded  the  footpaths,  eager  to  scent  the  balmy  air, 
to  refresh  their  eyes  with  the  sight  of  the  velvet  turf,  and  to  enjoy 
the  pageant  presented  to  their  wondering  eyes  by  the  magnificent 


592  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

turn-outs  of  the  aristocracy.  Thousands  and  thousands  filled  the 
alleys  and  outlets  of  the  park,  all  directing  their  steps  toward  the 
centre,  for  there  the  emperor  and  his  court  were  to  be  seen.  There 
the  people  might  gaze,  in  close  proximity,  at  the  dainty  beauties, 
whom  they  knew  as  the  denizens  of  another  earthly  sphere ;  there 
tliey  might  elbow  greatness,  and  there,  above  all,  they  might  feast 
their  eyes  upon  the  emperor,  who,  simply  dressed,  rode  to  and  fro, 
stopping  his  horse  to  chat,  as  often  with  a  peasant  as  with  a  peer. 

The  emperor  dismounted,  and  this  was  the  signal  for  all  other 
cavaliers  to  dismount  and  accompany  him.  The  ladies  also  were 
compelled  to  rise  from  tlieir  velvet  cushions  and  to  tread  the  ground 
with  their  silken-sliiipered  feet.  Their  equipages  were  crowded  to- 
gether on  one  side  of  the  square,  and  around  them  the  horses,  now- 
held  by  their  liveried  jockeys,  were  champing  their  bits  and  pawing 
the  ground  with  restless  hoofs. 

The  crowd  was  so  dense,  that  the  patrician  and  plebeian  stood 
side  by  side.  The  people,  in  their  innocent  enjoyment  of  the  scene, 
broke  several  times  through  the  ranks  of  titled  promenaders,  who, 
vainly  lioping  to  find  some  spot  unprofaned  by  the  vicinity  of  the 
vulgar  herd,  were  moving  toward  the  centre  of  the  garden. 

The  emperor  saw  the  lowering  brows  of  his  courtiers,  and  knew 
that  tlieir  angry  glances  were  directed  toward  the  people. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  my  lords?"  asked  he.  "You  are 
the  picture  of  discontent.  Pray,  Count  Fiirstenberg,  speak  for  the 
court.     What  has  happened  to  discompose  your  equanimity?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  your  majesty, "  stammered  the  count. 

"  And  yet  3'^ou  frown  terribly, "  laughed  Joseph.  "  Come — no  con- 
cealment.    What  has  vexed  j'ou  all?" 

"Your  majesty  commands?" 

"I  do." 

"  If  so,  sire,  we  are  annoyed  by  the  vulgar  curiosity  of  the  popu- 
lace, who  gape  in  our  faces  as  if  we  were  South  Sea  Islanders  or 
specimens  of  fossil  life. " 

"True,  tlie  curiosity  of  the  Viennese  is  somewhat  troublesome," 
replied  tlie  emperor,  smiling;  "but  let  us  call  this  eagerness  to  be 
with  us,  love,  and  then  it  will  cease  to  be  irksome." 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  if  I  venture  to  say  that  under  any 
aspect  it  would  be  most  irksome  to  us.  If  your  majesty  will  excuse 
my  freedom,  I  tliink  that  in  opening  all  the  gardens  to  the  people, 
you  have  made  too  great  a  concession  to  their  convenience. " 

"You  really  think  so?" 

"  Yes,  sii-e,  and  I  beg  you  to  hear  the  request  I  have  to  prefer. " 

"Speak  on,  count." 

"Then,  j'our  majesty,  in  the  name  of  every  nobleman  in  Vienna, 
and,  above  all,  in  the  name  of  our  noble  ladies,  I  beseech  of  you 
grant  us  the  exclusive  privilege  of  07ie  garden,  where  we  may  meet, 
uumulcested  by  the  rabble.  Give  us  the  use  of  tliL'  Prater,  that  we 
may  have  some  spot  in  Vienna  where  we  can  breathe  the  fresh  air  in 
the  company  of  our  equals  alone. " 

Tlie  empei'or  had  listened  with  a  supercilious  smile.  "  You  desire 
to  see  none  but  your  ecpials,  say  you?  If  I  were  to  indulge  in  a 
similar  whim,  I  should  have  to  seek  companionship  in  the  crypts  of 
the  Capuchins.*  But  for  my  i)art  I  hold  all  men  as  my  ecjuals,  and 
my  noble  subjects  will  be  (tbligcd  to  follow  my  example.  I  shall 
♦The  emperor's  own  words.— Kam.sliorn's  "  Life  of  Joseph  H," 


THE  PARK.  593 

certainly  not  close  any  of  the  gardens  against  the  people,  for  I  esteem 
and  love  them. "  * 

Tlie  emperor,  as  he  concluded,  bowed  and  turned  to  greet  the 
Countess  Pergen. 

"  Welcome,  countess,  to  Vienna, "  said  he,  bowing.  "  You  have 
been  away  for  some  time.     May  I  inquire  how  you  are?" 

•'  Tresbien,  voti-e  majeste,"  replied  the  countess,  with  a  iirofound 
courtesy. 

The  emperor  frowned.  "Why  do  you  not  speak  German?"  said 
he,  curtly.     "We  are  certainly  in  Germany." 

And  without  saying  another  word  to  the  discomfited  lady,  he 
turned  his  back  upon  her.  Suddenly  his  face  brightened,  and  he 
pressed  eagerly  through  the  crowd,  toward  a  pale  young  man,  who 
met  his  smiling  gaze  with  one  of  reciprocal  friendliness. 

Joseph  extended  his  hand,  and  his  courtiers  saw  with  surprise 
that  this  person,  whose  brown  coat  was  without  a  single  order,  in- 
stead of  raising  the  emperor's  hand  to  his  lips,  as  was  customary  at 
court,  shook  it  as  if  they  had  been  equals. 

"See,"  cried  Joseph,  "here  is  our  young  maestro,  Mozart.  Did 
you  come  to  the  park  today  to  teach  the  nightingales  to  sing?" 

"  Heaven  forbid,  your  majesty ;  rather  would  I  learn  from  the 
tuneful  songsters  whom  God  has  taught.  Perhaps  some  of  these 
days  I  may-try  to  imitate  their  notes  myself. " 

The  emperor  laid  his  hand  upon  Mozart's  shoulder  and  looked 
with  enthusiasm  into  his  pale,  inspired  countenance.  "Mozart  has 
no  need  to  learn  from  the  nightingale,"  said  he,  "for  God  has  filled 
his  heart  with  melody,  and  he  has  only  to  transfer  it  to  paper  to 
ravish  the  world  with  its  strains.  Now  for  j'our  'Abduction  from 
the  Auge  Gottes' — nay,  do  not  blush  ;  I  am  a  child  of  Vienna,  and 
must  have  my  jest  with  the  Viennese.  Tell  me — which  gave  you 
most  trouble,  that  or  your  opera  '  Die  Entfuhrung  aus  detn  Serail .?  '  "  f 

"Truly, "  replied  Mozart,  still  somewhat  embaiTassed,  "the  ab- 
duction from  the  A^lge  Gottes,  sire.  I  had  to  sigh  and  sue  until  I 
was  nigh  unto  despair  before  I  was  successful." 

"  But  you  concluded  both  works  on  the  same  day. " 

"Yes,  sire.  First,  that  which  lay  in  my  head,  and  then  that 
which  was  nearest  my  heart. " 

"I  congratulate  you  upon  the  success  of  both.  '  Die  Entfiihrung 
cuts  deni  Serail '  is  a  charming  opera.  Charming,  but  it  contains 
too  many  notes. " 

"  Only  as  many  as  were  necessary,  sire, "  said  Mozart,  looking 
full  iu  the  emperor's  face. 

Joseph  smiled.  "Perhaps  so,  for  you  must  be  a  better  judge  of 
the  necessity  than  I.  For  that  very  reason, "  added  he,  lowering  his 
voice  to  a  whisper,  "I  have  sent  j'ou  my  sonata  for  revision.  Like 
all  inexperienced  composers,  I  am  anxious  to  know  my  fate.  Tell 
me,  what  do  you  think  of  my  sonata,  Herr  Kapelhyieister  ?" 

*  When  the  emperor  opened  the  park  to  the  people,  he  caused  the  following  in- 
scription to  be  placed  over  the  principal  entrance:  "Dedicated  to  all  men,  by  one 
who  esteems  them." 

tOn  the  day  of  the  representation  of  the  opera  "D/e  Entfuhrung  aus  clem 
Serail,"  in  Vienna,  Mozart  ran  away  with  his  Constance.  He  conducted  her  to  the 
house  of  a  common  friend,  where  they  were  married.  This  same  friend  brought 
about  a  reconciliation  with  the  mother  of  Constance.  The  house  in  which  the 
widow  and  her  daughter  lived  was  called  "Das  Atige  Gottes,''''  and  the  Viennese, 
who  knew  the  history  of  Mozart's  marriage,  had  called  it  "  Die  Entfiihrung  aus 
liem  Auge  ffoWes. "—Lissen's  "Life  of  Mozart." 


594  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

Mozart  was  silent,  while  the  emperor  waited  anxiously  for  his 
reply.  "  Why  do  you  not  speak ?"  said  he,  impatiently.  "Tell  me, 
what  do  you  think  of  my  sonata  ?  " 

"The  sonata,  sire,  is — good,"  returned  Mozart,  with  some  hesi 
tation  ;  "but  he  who  composed  it,"  added  he,  smiling,  "  is  much  bet- 
ter.    Your  majesty  must  not  take  it  ill  if  you  find  some  of  your 
passages  stricken  out. " 

The  emperor  laughed.  "Ah  ! — too  many  notes,  as  I  just  now  re- 
marked of  your  opera — only  that  from  your  judgment  there  can  be 
no  appeal.  Well — give  us  a  new  opera,  and  let  it  be  comic.  Music 
should  rejoice,  not  grieve  us.     Addio. "  * 

He  then  returned  to  the  group  which  he  had  left,  none  of  whom 
seemed  to  have  been  much  comforted  by  the  familiarity  of  the  em- 
peror with  a  poor  little  kapell7neistei\ 

"My  hour  of  recreation  is  over,"  said  Joseph,  "but  as  you  know 
that  I  am  no  lover  of  etiquette,  let  no  one  retire  on  my  account.  I 
know  where  to  find  my  equerry,  and  prefer  to  find  him  alone." 
With  these  words  he  turned  away. 

Suddenly  he  was  seen  to  stop  and  frown  visibly.  With  a  quick 
motion  of  the  hand  he  signed  to  Count  Podstadsky-Liechtensteiu  to 
approacli. 

As  Podstadsky  was  about  to  make  a  profound  inclination,  the 
emperor  interrupted  him  roughly.  "No  ceremony — we  have  no 
time  to  be  complimentary.     What  are  you  doing  in  Vienna?" 

The  count  saw  that  his  sovereign  was  angry.  "  Sire, "  replied  he, 
"  I  spend  my  time  just  as  it  happens — " 

"That  is,  you  ride,  walk,  gamble,  and  carouse,  when  you  are 
doing  nothing  worse.  I  thought  you  had  left  Vienna.  You  had 
better  go  upon  your  estates  and  attend  to  the  welfare  of  your  vassals. 
Idleness  is  the  parent  of  crime,  and  I  fear  that  if  you  remain  another 
day  in  Vienna,  you  will  bring  disgrace  upon  your  father's  name. 
Go  at  once. "  f 

Count  Podstadsky  looked  in  wonder  after  the  emperor.  "  Is  this 
accident  or  design?  Does  he  susjiect  something,  or  is  he  only  try- 
ing to  induce  me  to  work,  as  he  does  every  nobleman  V  Ah,  bah  ! — 
I  must  see  Arabella,  and  hear  what  she  thinks  of  it !" 


CHAPTER    CLVII. 

THE  PARTING. 

They  sat  together  in  the  little  boudoir  which  had  so  often  rung 
with  their  laughter,  and  where  they  had  so  often  sneered  at  their 
titled  dupes  in  Vienna. 

There  was  no  laughter  to-day  :  the  beautiful  features  of  the  Count- 
ess Baillou  were  contracted  with  alarm,  and  the  frivolous  Podstad- 
sky was  tliouglitful  and  serious. 

The  countess  was  superbly  dressed.  A  rich  robe  of  velvet,  em- 
broidered with  gold,  fell  in  heavy,  glistening  folds  around  her 
graceful  figure  ;   a  diadem  of  brilliants  sparkled  like  a  constellation 

*This  interview  is  strictly  historical.— Lissen's  "Life  of  Mozart." 
tThe  emperor's  own  words  to  Podstadsky.— "Anecdotes,  etc.,  of  the  Emperor 
Joseph  U." 


THE  PARTING.  595 

upon  the  blackness  of  her  luxuriant  hair,  and  her  exquisite  neck  and 
arms  were  covered  with  costly  gems.  She  had  just  completed  her 
toilet  for  a  dinner  given  by  the  Princess  Karl  Liechtenstein,  when 
Podstadsky  had  met  her  with  the  alarming  intelligence  which  had 
obliged  her  to  send  an  excuse. 

For  one  whole  hour  they  had  been  considering  their  situation — 
considering  those  words  of  the  emperor  ;  now  planning  one  method 
of  escape,  now  another. 

"Then  you  do  not  believe  that  the  danger  is  imminent?"  said 
Podstadsky,  after  a  long,  anxious  pause. 

"  I  do  not, "  replied  the  countess.  "  The  emperor  has  always  been 
fond  of  advising  other  people,  and  of  humbling  the  Austrian  aristoc- 
racy above  all,  when  the  people  are  by  to  hear  him,  and  he  can 
make  capital  out  of  it  to  increase  his  popularity.  I  suppose  his 
rudeness  to  you  was  all  assumed,  to  make  an  impression  upon  the 
foolish  populace.     That  is  all." 

Podstadsky  shook  his  head.  "  Tlie  tone  of  the  emperor  was  so 
pointed — it  seemed  as  though  some  special  meaning  lay  in  his 
words. " 

"  That,  my  dear  Carlo,  simply  means  that  fear  caused  you  to  in- 
terpret them  significantly." 

"The  words  themselves  were  significant  enough  ;  and  his  look  ! — 
Oh,  Arabella,  we  are  in  danger  !     Dearest,  let  us  fly,  fly  at  once  !" 

He  liad  risen,  and,  in  his  anguish,  had  tried  to  draw  her  to  him- 
self. She  put  him  quietly  away,  and  contemplated  him  with  a 
sneer.  "  No  foUj^ !"  said  she.  "  Even  if  the  emperor  had  meant  to 
warn  you,  his  warning  came  too  late  to  save  you  from  the  watchful 
police  of  Vienna. " 

"  No,  no,  Arabella.  I  tell  you  that  the  emperor  will  facilitate  my 
escape  for  my  parents'  sake.  Oh,  why  did  I  not  obey,  and  mount 
my  horse  at  once,  and  fly  to  some  sequestered  vale  where  I  might 
have  found  refuge  from  dishonor?" 

"And  where  you  might  realize  your  mother's  touching  dream  of 
becoming  a  boor,  and  repenting  your  sins  in  sackcloth  and  ashes ! 
That  maternal  idyl  still  troubles  your  poor,  shallow  brain,  does  it? 
For  my  part,  I  think  no  spectacle  on  earth  is  so  ridiculous  as  that  of 
the  repentant  sinner.  It  is  the  most  humiliating  character  in  which 
a  man  can  appear  before  the  world,  and  it  is  unworthy  of  you, 
Carlo.  Hold  up  your  head  and  look  this  phantom  of  danger  in  the 
face.  It  is  but  a  phantom.  The  bright,  beavitiful  reality  of  our 
luxurious  life  is  substantially  before  us.  Away  with  cowardice! 
He  who  treads  the  path  which  we  have  trodden,  must  cast  all  fear 
behind  him.  Had  we  been  scrupulous,  or  faint-hearted,  you  would 
have  been  to-day  a  ruined  nobleman,  dependent  upon  the  pittance 
doled  out  to  you  from  parental  hands,  or  upon  some  little  office 
pompously  bestowed  bj^  the  emperor  ;  and  I — ha  !  ha  ! — I  sliould  have 
been  a  psalm -chanting  nun,  with  other  drowsy  nuns  for  my  com- 
panions through  life,  and  a  chance  of  dying  in  the  odor  of  sanctity  ! 
We  were  too  wise  for  that ;  and  now  the  structure  of  our  fortunes  is 
complete.  Its  gilded  dome  reaches  into  the  heaven  of  the  most  ex- 
clusive circles  ;  princes,  dukes,  and  sovereigns  are  our  guests.  In 
the  name  of  all  for  which  we  have  striven,  Carlo,  what  would  you 
have  more?" 

"I  am  afraid  that  the  structure  will  fall  and  bury  us  under  its 
ruins, "  said  Carlo,  shivering. 


596  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  Better  that  than  inglorious  flight.  Stay  where  you  are  ,  show  a 
bold  front,  and  that  will  disarm  suspicion.  Why  do  you  gaze  at  me 
so  strangely?" 

"  I  gaze  at  you  because  you  are  so  beautiful, "  replied  he,  with  a 
faint  smile,  "as  beautiful  as  was  that  fallen  angel  who  compassed 
the  ruin  of  man  !" 

"  I  am  a  fallen  angel, "  returned  she,  proudly,  "  and  you  know  it. 
Together  we  fell,  together  we  have  risen.  So  long  as  we  smile,  we 
shall  compass  the  ruin  of  many  men  ;  but  if  once  we  frown,  we  shall 
be  known  as  evil  spirits,  and  our  power  is  at  an  end.  Smiles  are 
the  talismans  that  insure  victory  ;  so  smile.  Carlo,  smile  and  be  gay. " 

"  I  cannot,  I  cannot.  My  veins  are  chilled  with  vague  terror,  and 
ever  before  my  eyes  comes  the  pale  and  anguish -stricken  face  of  my 
mother !  Arabella,  if  you  will  not  leave  this  accursed  spot,  let  us 
die.     Better  is  death  than  the  dungeon  and  disgrace  !" 

He  threw  his  arms  around  her,  and  pressed  his  hot,  parched  lips 
to  hers.  Again  she  disengaged  herself,  and  her  musical  laugh  rang 
out  upon  the  stillness — clear,  merrj%  silvery  as  ever.  "  Die !  Are 
you  tired  of  pleasure?  I  am  not.  I  shall  yet  have  many  an  intoxi- 
cating draught  from  its  golden  beaker.  Die  !  As  if  we  knew  what 
came  after  death  !  But  come  ;  I  pity  your  state  of  mind,  and  since 
you  can  no  longer  be  happy  in  Vienna,  we  shall  travel.  Mark  you  ! 
I  say  travel ;  but  there  shall  be  no  flight  " 

Count  Podstadsky  uttered  a  cry  of  wild  joy,  and  pressed  the  hand 
she  gave  him  to  his  lips.     "When  shall  we  toavel?    Now?" 

She  shook  her  head.     "  That  were  flight.     We  start  to-morrow. " 

"To-morrow!"  cried  he,  exultingly,  "to-morrow,  at  dawn  of 
day?" 

"  By  no  means.  To-morrow  at  noon,  in  the  sight  of  the  whole 
world." 

"  Be  it  so,  then, "  sighed  the  count.  "  We  go  by  different  roads, 
and  meet  at  Neustadt. " 

"  Yes,  at  Neustadt.  And  now  go,  Carlo.  We  both  have  impor- 
tant arrangements  to  make  before  we  leave. " 

"  I  have  very  little  to  do, "  laughed  Podstadsky,  who  had  already 
recovei-ed  his  spirits.  "  My  valuables  all  belong  to  the  usurers.  For 
some  time  past  they  have  stationed  an  agent  of  theirs  in  my  house  as 
steward.     He  watches  over  their  property  ;  I  have  no  interest  in  it. " 

"  Why  don't  you  pay  them  with  your  nice  new  bank-notes — hey. 
Carlo?" 

Carlo  grew  troubled  again.  "  I  did  try  to  do  so,  but  they  refused. 
They  had  given  me  gold,  and  must  have  gold  in  return. " 

"So  much  the  better.  Your  bank-notes  will  meet  with  a  better 
reception  elsewhere, "  said  Arabella,  hurriedly.  "But  come,  let  us 
go  to  work.  Burn  all  indiscreet  papers,  and  take  every  thing  that 
you  can  secrete.  And  now  away  with  you  !  I  must  be  alone,  for  I 
have  enough  to  do  to  keep  me  up  this  livelong  niglit.  Clear  your 
brows,  my  Carlo,  and  sleep  free  from  anxiety.  To-morrow  we  leave 
Vienna,  and  your  trials  will  be  at  an  end.  Addio,  caro  amicQ  mio, 
addio ! " 

He  kissed  her  hand,  and  she  accompanied  him  to  the  door.  He 
closed  it  Ix'hind  liim,  wliile  she  stood  breathless,  listening  to  his 
retreating  footsteps.  Now  be  \va;<  on  the  staircase.  The  lieavy 
street  door  clo.sed— a  moment's  del;iy.  and  liis  carriage  rolled  away. 
Y'eSj  he  was  off  at  last.     Thank  Heaven,  he  was  off  ! 


COLONEL  SZEKULY.  597 

CHAPTER    CLVIII. 

COLONEL  SZEKULY. 

Arabella  listened — listened  until  the  sound  of  the  wheels  had 
died  away  ;  then  she  laughed.  "  He  thinks  me  fool  enough  to  share 
his  disgrace  !  As  if  I  had  not  long  ago  foreseen  that  this  was  to  be 
the  end  of  that  hair-brained  fool !  In  expectation  of  his  fate,  I  have 
been  countermining  with  Szekuly,  and  his  foolish  old  hands  have 
flung  up  shovelfuls  of  gold  as  we  went  along — bright,  sliining  ducats, 
which  shall  go  with  me  to  Paris.  Now  I  am  free,  free  from  my 
dangerous  accomplice,  free  from  my  tiresome  old  adorer,  whose  love 
for  me  so  nearly  approaches  insanity  that  it  may  lead  him  to  com- 
promise himself  in  more  ways  than  one.  But  he  must  not  compro- 
mise 7ne !  For  the  world,  as  yet,  I  am  the  modest,  virtuous  Countess 
Baillou,  chaste  as  I  am  beautiful !" 

While  she  soliloquized  thus,  the  countess  walked  hurriedly 
through  the  room,  with  folded  arms,  fiery  eyes,  and  on  her  lips  a 
smile — but  what  a  smile  I  Alone  in  that  gorgeous  apartment,  with 
her  sinister  beauty  and  her  angry,  flashing  jewels,  she  might  have 
been  mistaken  for  a  malign  spirit  who  had  just  left  her  kingdom  of 
darkness  to  visit  the  earth  with  ruin  ! 

"  It  is  evident, "  said  she,  musing,  "  that  the  emperor  meant  to 
warn  him  ;  and  it  follows  that  as  he  has  not  fled  to-day  he  is  lost ! 
And  he  shall  be  lost,  for  I  must  be  free.  I  cannot  afford  to  share  my 
hardly-earned  winnings  with  him.  He  must  away  to  prison  ;  it  is 
my  only  chance  for  freedom. 

"But  if,  after  all,  the  emperor  should  connive  at  his  escape  !  Or 
if  he  should  be  seized  with  a  fit  of  suspicion,  and  return  !  Good 
Heaven  !  now  that  fortune  favors  me,  I  must  snatch  security  while 
it  lies  within  my  grasp." 

Here  she  rang  so  violently,  that  the  valet,  who  was  in  the  ante- 
room, almost  precipitated  himself  into  her  presence. 

"If  Count  Podstadsky-Liechtenstein  calls,  say  that  I  am  not  at 
home.  Apprise  the  other  servants,  and  add  that  he  is  never  to  fmd 
admittance  into  this  house  again.  Whosoever,  after  this,  admits 
him  even  to  the  vestibule,  shall  leave  my  service.     Away  Avith  you  ! 

"  And  now, "  continued  she,  as  the  valet  closed  the  door,  "  now 
to  work."  She  went  toward  a  mirror,  and  there  unfastened  her 
diadem,  then  her  necklace,  brooch,  and  bracelets.  With  her  hands 
full  of  jewels,  she  flew  to  her  dressing-room  and  dei^osited  them  in 
their  respective  cases.  Then  she  opened  a  large,  brass-bound  casket, 
and  counted  her  treasures. 

The  first  thing  that  came  to  light  was  a  necklace  of  diamond  soli- 
taires. "  These  three  stars  of  the  first  magnitude, "  said  she,  contem- 
plating the  centre  stones,  "ai-e  the  involuntary  contribution  of  the 
Princess  Garampi.  I  boiTOwed  her  bracelet  for  a  model,  giving  my 
word  that  it  should  not  pass  from  my  hands.  Nor  has  it  done  so,  for  I 
have  kept  her  brilliants  and  returned  her — mine.  She  is  never  the 
wiser,  and  I  am  the  richer  thereby.  For  this  string  of  pearls,  with 
the  superb  ruby  clasp,  I  am  indebted  to  her  highness  the  Princess 
Palm.  One  evening,  as  I  welcomed  her  witli  an  embrace,  I  made 
out  to  unfasten  it  while  I  related  to  her  a  piquant  anecdote  of  her 
husband's  mistress.     Of  course  she  was  too  much  absorbed  in  my 


598  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

narrative  to  feel  that  her  necklace  was  slipping,  for  I  was  not  only 
entertaining,  but  very  caressing  on  the  occasion.  There  was  music 
in  the  room,  so  that  no  one  heard  the  treasure  fall.  The  necklace,  a 
perfect  fortune,  lay  at  my  feet ;  I  moved  my  train  to  cover  it,  and 
signed  to  Carlo,  who,  I  must  say,  was  always  within  call.  He  in- 
vited the  princess  to  dance,  and — the  i:)earls  found  their  way  to  my 
pocket.  What  a  talk  that  loss  made  in  Vienna !  What  offers  of 
reward  that  poor  woman  made  to  recover  her  necklace  !  All  in  vain, 
and  nobody  condoled  more  affectionately  with  her  than  the  charm- 
ing, kind-hearted  Countess  Baillou.  This  sorrow — but,  pshaw  ! 
what  a  child  I  am,  to  be  gloating  over  my  precious  toys  while  time 
passes  away,  and  I  must  be  off  to-night !" 

She  closed  her  boxes,  replaced  them  in  her  strong,  well-secured 
casket,  and,  having  locked  it,  hung  the  key  around  her  neck.  "  Here 
lies  the  i^rice  of  a  princely  estate,"  said  she,  "and  now  I  must  attend 
to  my  ducats. " 

She  stood  upon  a  chair,  and  took  from  the  wall  a  picture.  Then, 
pressing  a  spring  behind  it,  a  little  door  flew  open,  revealing  a 
casket  similar  to  the  one  containing  her  jewels.  She  took  it  down, 
and,  placing  it  on  the  table,  contemplated  the  two  boxes  with  pro- 
found satisfaction. 

"Twenty  thousand  lovers'  eyes  look  out  from  tliis  casket,"  said 
she,  with  a  laugh;  "all  promising  a  future  of  triumphant  joy. 
Twenty  thousand  ducats  !  The  fruits  of  my  savings  !  And  dear  old 
Szekuly  has  made  economy  very  easy  for  some  mouths  past,  for  one- 
half  of  these  ducats  once  belonged  to  him.  To  be  sure,  I  gave  him 
in  return  the  deeds  of  an  entail  which  I  own  in  Italy,  and  which 
he  can  easily  reconvert  into  money.  At  least  he  thinks  so.  Well — 
I  owe  him  nothing.     We  made  an  exchange,  and  that  is  all." 

After  this  edifying  monologue,  the  countess  exchanged  her 
elegant  costume  for  a  simple  travelling-dress,  and  as  she  com- 
pleted her  toilet  the  clock  struck  eight.  Every  thing  being  ready, 
she  returned  to  her  boudoir  and  rang  once.  This  signified  that  her 
confidential  valet  was  wanted.  In  a  few  moments  the  door  opened, 
and  an  old  man,  whose  dark  hair  and  eyes  marked  his  Italian  birth, 
entered  noiselessly.  Tlie  countess  bade  him  close  the  door  and  ap- 
proach. He  obeyed  without  the  least  manifestation  of  surprise, 
muttering  as  he  went,  "  Walls  have  ears. " 

"Giuseppe,"  said  his  mistress,  "are  you  still  willing  to  follow 
me?" 

"  Did  I  not  swear  to  your  mother,  my  beloved  benefactress,  never 
to  abandon  you,  signora?" 

"Thanks,  amico ;  then  we  leave  Vienna  to-night." 

"I  heard  the  order  forbidding  Count  Podstadsky  the  house,  sig- 
nora, and  I  made  ready  to  depart. " 

"Good  and  faithful  Giuseppe!  Since  you  are  ready,  nothing 
need  detain  us.  Go  at  once  and  ord(>r  post-liorses,  and  come  with 
tlie  travelling  carriage  to  the  corner  of  the  street  above  tliis. " 

"<St,  signora;  I  shall  leave  the  carriage  there,  and  return  for  the 
two  caskets  ;  you  will  then  go  out  by  the  postern,  and  having  joined 
us,  we  are  off.     Is  that  yoiu-  will  V" 

"Yes,  Giuseppe,  yes.     Go  for  your  life  !" 

"  Be  ready  to  leave  the  house  in  one  hour,  signora,  for  you  know 
that  T  am  a  swift  messenger. " 

The  old  man  bowed  and  retreated  as  silently  as  he  came.     His 


COLONEL  SZEKULY.  599 

mistress  looked  after  him,  saying,  "There  goes  a  jewel  which  I  have 
neither  borrowed  nor  stolen  :  it  comes  to  me  by  the  inalienable  right 
of  inheritance.     Now  I  can  rest  until  he  returns. " 

With  a  deep  sigh  of  relief,  she  threw  herselt  upon  the  divan,  and, 
closing  her  eyes,  gave  herself  up  to  rosy  dreams.  She  had  not  lain 
long,  before  the  door  opened  and  a  valet  announced  "Colonel 
Szekuly. " 

"  I  cannot  receive  him, "  exclaimed  she,  without  rising. 

"  You  must  receive  him,  countess, "  said  a  voice  behind  her,  and 
starting  from  the  divan,  she  beheld  the  tall  form  of  her  "tiresome 
old  adorer, "  enveloped  in  a  military  cloak,  with  his  plumed  hat 
drawn  far  over  his  brow.  Before  she  had  time  to  speak,  he  had 
dismissed  the  valet  and  closed  the  door. 

"You  presume  strangely  upon  your  influence,"  cried  Arabella, 
half  amused,  half  angry.  "  Because  you  reign  over  my  heart,  you 
aspire  to  reign  over  my  domestics,  I  perceive. " 

"Peace!"  cried  the  colonel,  imperatively.  "I  have  not  come 
hither  to  suck  poison  from  your  honeyed  lips.  I  have  already  had 
enough  to  cause  my  death.  Though  you  have  cruelly  deceived  me, 
I  come  to  give  you  a  last  proof  of  my  love.     Do  not  interrupt  me. " 

"  I  will  not  breathe, "  said  she,  with  a  smile  so  bewitching,  that 
Szekuly  averted  his  eyes,  for  it  maddened  him. 

"You  know, "said  he,  and  the  old  man's  voice  faltered  as  he 
spoke,  "  that  the  director  of  police  is  my  friend.  I  had  invited  him 
to  dine  with  me.  He  came  but  half  an  hour  ago  to  excuse  himself 
because  of  an  arrest  of  some  importance.  Do  you  guess  whose 
arrest  ?" 

"  How  should  I  guess?"  said  slie,  still  with  that  enchanting  smile. 
"I  have  no  acquaintance  with  the  police. " 

"God  grant  that  you  may  never  make  their  acquaintance  !"  ejacu- 
lated he,  hoarsely.     "  They  have  just  now  arrested  Count  Podstadsky. " 

Not  a  feature  of  her  face  changed,  as  she  replied  :  "  Ah  !  Count 
Podstadsky  arrested?     I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.     Can  you  tell  me  wliy  V" 

"For  forging  bank-notes  to  the  amount  of  a  million  of  florins." 

"I  suspected  as  much  ;  I  have  several  times  been  the  victim  of 
his  thousand-florin  notes." 

"The  victim,  countess?    Is  that  an  appropriate  expression?" 

"I  think  it  is,"  replied  she,  quietly.      "Is  that  all  the  news?" 

"No,  countess.     The  count  is  taken,  but  his  accomplice — " 

She  breathed  quickly  and  her  mouth  quivered,  but  she  rallied  and 
made  answer.     "He  had  accomplices?" 

"He  had  an  accomplice,  and — hush!  we  have  no  time  for  false- 
hood. Every  moment  is  precious  to  you.  Perhaps  the  director  of 
the  police  came  to  me  because  knowing  how — I  have  loved  you,  he 
would  rescue  you  from  shame.  Let  us  hope  that  he  did,  for  he  told 
me  that  he  had  orders  to  arrest  the  Countess  Baillou." 

"When?"  asked  she,  almost  inaudibly;  and  now  her  face  was 
pale  as  death. 

"  At  dusk,  that  you  might  be  spared  the  curiosity  of  a  crowd. " 

Arabella  sprang  from  her  couch.  "It  is  already  night!"  cried 
she,  her  voice  rising  almost  to  a  scream. 

"  Yes, "  replied  her  lover,  "  but  I  hope  we  have  time.  I  have  pre- 
pai'ed  every  thing  for  your  flight.  My  carriage  and  postilions  await 
you  in  the  next  street.     Be  quick,  and  you  may  escape. " 

"Yes,  yes,"  exclaimed  she.     "Give  me  but  one  moment."    She 
89 


600  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

flew  to  her  dressing-room,  aud  tried  to  carry  her  two  boxes.     But 
the  ducats  were  too  heavy. 

"  I  must  leave  the  jewels, "  said  she  ;  and  climbing  up  again  with 
her  casket,  she  concealed  it  in  the  wall,  and  replaced  the  picture. 
"It  is,  at  all  events,  perfectly  safe,  and  Giusepi^e  will  come  for 
it." 

"Come  !"  cried  Szekuly  from  the  drawing-room. 

"  I  come, "  answered  she,  while  she  wrapped  a  cloak  about  her  and 
with  trembling  hands  tied  on  her  travelling-hat. 

"Give  nie  your  box,"  said  Szekuly,  "  it  will  impede  your  move- 
ments. " 

But  she  held  it  fast,  and  said  :  "  No — they  are  my  jewels,  now 
my  only  riches. " 

"And  you  are  afraid  to  trust  them  with  me?"  asked  he,  with  a 
bitter  smile-v-"to  me,  who  will  die  of  your  treachery  !" 

"  People  do  not  die  so  easily,  "  said  slie,  trying  to  smile  ;  but  her 
teeth  chattered,  as  she  flew  rather  than  ran  down  the  grand  stair- 
case, and  arrived  breathless  before  the  door.  The  porter  opened  it  in 
wonder.  The  night-air  blew  into  her  face,  and  revived  her  courage. 
Now  she  might  breathe  freely,  for  she  was — 

But  no !  From  the  dark  recesses  of  the  stone  portico  enierged 
three  muffled  figures,  and  one  of  them  laid  his  rough  grasp  upon  the 
delicate  arm  of  the  countess  and  dragged  her  back  into  the  vestibule. 

"Too  late,  too  late  !"  murmured  the  colonel,  passively  following, 
while  his  heart  bled  for  the  treacherous  woman  whom  he  would  have 
died  to  save. 

"  Countess  Arabella  Baillou, "  said  one  of  the  figures,  "  I  arrest  you 
in  the  name  of  the  emperor. " 

She  looked  defiance  at  him.     "  Who  are  you  that  dare  arrest  me?" 

He  tocjk  off  his  hat  aud  bowed  derisively.  "  I  am  the  director  of 
police,  countess,  very  much  at  your  service.  Here  is  my  authority 
for  your  arrest. " 

He  would  have  shown  her  the  "emperor's  signature,  but  she 
dashed  away  the  paper,  and  fastening  lier  angry  eyes  upon  Szekuly, 
who  was  leaning  against  a  marble  pillar,  she  said  : 

"That  is  your  dear  friend,  is  it?  You  have  been  playing  the  de- 
tective, have  you?  Inducing  me  to  fly,  that  my  flight  might  expo.se 
me  to  suspicion  !" 

The  colonel  cried  out  as  though  he  had  been  wounded.  "By  all 
that  is  sacred  in  lieaven,  I  would  have  saved  you  !"  sobbed  he. 

"And  for  your  attem})t  I  am  obliged  to  detain  you  also,  my  poor, 
unhappy  friend,  "said  the  director  of  the  police.  "But  you  will 
soon  be  al)le  to  prove  your  innot-ence.  Let  one  of  these  men  accom- 
l)any  you  home,  and  there  remain  under  arrest  until  jou  hear  from 
me.     Now,  madauu",  follow  me,  if  j-ou  please. " 

"Allow  me  first  to  speak  a  word  of  consolation  to  my  generous 
protector,"  said  the  countess. 

"  Ci'rtairdy,  niadame. " 

Arabella  bowed  her  beautifxd  head  aud  approached  Szekuly,  who 
was  scarcely  able  to  stand,  so  great  was  his  emotion. 

"Colonel  S/.ekidy,"  said  she,  in  a  whisper,  "you  lent  me  fifty 
thousand  florins  uj)on  sonic  Italian  securities  of  mine.  They  are  all 
forgeries.  I  forged  tli(>ni  myself,  as  well  as  all  the  fine  letters  of 
infr(j(hiction  with  which  I  befooled  the  aristocracy  of  Vienna." 

Szekuly  stared  for  one  moment  at  his  tormentor,  then   hastily 


THE  POPE'S  DEPARTURE.  601 

pressing  his  hand  to  his  heart,  he  sank  with  a  low  sigh  upon  the 
marble  floor. 

The  countess  laughed  out  loud.  "He  has  fainted!"  exclaimed 
slie.  "Contemptible  Avorld,  wherein  men  act  like  women,  and 
women  like  men  !  Come,  gentlemen,  I  am  ready  to  follow  you  ;  but 
my  innocence  will  speedily  be  reestablished,  and  the  emperor,  then, 
will  Owe  me  an  apology  for  his  want  of  courtesy. " 


CHAPTER    CLIX. 

THE     pope's     departure. 

The  people  of  Vienna  were  em-aptured  to  the  last  with  the  visit 
of  the  pope.  Whenever  he  appeared,  they  sank  upon  their  knees,  as, 
with  his  bewitching  smile,  he  gave  them  his  benediction.  But 
these  accidental  meetings  did  not  satisfy  the  zeal  of  the  Viennese  ; 
they  longed  to  receive  a  formal  and  solemn  blessing,  pronounced  in 
the  cathedral  from  the  papal  throne. 

High  upon  his  throne  sat  the  holy  father  in  his  pontifical  robes, 
his  triple  crown  upon  his  head,  and  the  diamond  cross  of  his  order 
upon  his  breast.  His  canopy  was  of  velvet,  richly  embroidered  with 
gold,  and  around  him  were  grouped  the  princes  of  the  church.  But 
the  pope,  his  large  expressive  eyes  fixed  upon  the  altar,  seemed 
isolated  from  all  ecclesiastical  pomp,  mindful  alone  of  the  God  whose 
representative  on  earth  he  was.  And  when  he  rose  to  give  the  papal 
benediction,  the  handsome  face  of  Pius  Sixth  beamed  with  holy  in- 
spiration, while  the  people,  filled  with  love  and  joy,  knelt  to  receive 
the  blessing  which  had  been  transmitted  to  them  in  unintermpted 
succession  from  the  holy  Apostles  tliemselves. 

But  however  the  loving  heart  of  the  pope  might  rejoice  at  his 
reception  by  the  people,  there  were  two  men  in  Vienna  who  resisted 
him  with  all  the  pride  of  individuality  and  all  the  consciousness  of 
their  own  worth  and  consequence. 

The  first  of  these  was  the  emperor.  He  had  sought  continually 
to  remind  the  sovereign  pontifl"  that  although  the  head  of  Christen- 
dom miglit  be  his  guest,  he,  Joseph,  was  sole  lord  of  his  own 
domains.  He  had  ordered  that  all  ecclesiastic  ordinances,  before 
being  printed,  should  receive  the  imperial  exequatur.  The  pope  liad 
desired  during  his  stay  to  issue  a  bull  in  relation  to  the  newly- 
erected  church  of  St.  Michael.  The  bull  had  been  returned  for  the 
signature  of  the  emperor. 

Other  humiliations  besides  this  had  been  endured  by  the  head  of 
the  church.  Perhaps  in  the  two  solemn  benedictions  which  he  had 
given — the  first  in  the  palace-court,  the  second  in  the  cathedral,  Pius 
had  hoped  to  appear  in  public  with  the  emperor  as  his  spiritual 
vassal ;  but  Joseph  was  careful  not  to  allow  him  this  gratification. 
He  had  no  sooner  learned  that  the  throne  of  the  pope  in  the  cathedral 
was  being  erected  higher  than  his  own,  than  he  ordered  the  imperial 
throne  to  be  removed,  and  excused  himself  from  attendance  at  high 
mass  upon  the  pretext  that  he  was  sufi'ering  from  severe  pain  in  the 
eyes,  and  dared  not  encounter  the  blaze  of  light.  It  was  an  obstinate 
case  of  ocular  malady,  for  it  had  already  prevented  him  from  appear- 
ing in  the  palace-court,  when  decoi'um  would  have  exacted  of  him 
to  walk  behind  the  pope. 


602  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS   COURT. 

The  other  man  who  had  completely  ignored  the  pope's  presence 
in  Vienna,  was  Kaunitz.  In  vain  had  his  visit  been  expected  ;  he 
never  came  ;  and  finally  the  day  of  the  departvire  of  his  holiness 
arrived.  He  had  received  the  adieus  of  the  nobles  and  had  taken 
leave  of  the  clergy.  At  two  o'clock  he  expected  the  emperor,  who 
was  to  accompany  him  as  far  as  Mariabrunn.  It  was  now  eleven, 
and  he  had,  therefore,  three  hours  of  leisure. 

He  rang  for  his  valet  and  bade  him  send  a  messenger  to  Prince 
Kaunitz,  apprising  him  that  in  half  an  hour  the  pope  w^ould  visit 
him.  A  few  moments  after  this,  the  door  reopened  and  the  papal 
master  of  ceremonies  entered  the  room.  Pius  received  him  witli  a 
friendly  smile.  "I  know  why  you  are  here, "  said  he.  "You  have 
heard  from  Brambilla  that  I  contemplate  a  visit  to  Prince  Kaunitz, 
and  you  come  to  remonstrate  with  me." 

"Yes,  I  entreat  your  holiness  not  to  take  this  step  which — " 

"Which  is  beneath  the  dignity  of  the  head  of  the  church,"  inter- 
rupted Pius.  "You  can  well  imagine  that  I  have  already  said  as 
much  to  myself.  I  know,  that  in  going  to  visit  this  proud  man,  I 
humble  myself.  But  if  humility  becomes  any  one  of  the  servants  of 
God,  it  becomes  the  successor  of  Peter,  and  I  have  no  right  to  shrink 
from  personal  humiliation,  when,  perchance,  it  may  win  something 
from  haughtiness  in  favor  of  the  church  of  God.  Perhaps  the  ad- 
vances I  make  to  Kaunitz  may  move  his  cold  heart,  and  teach  him 
to  do  unto  othei's  as  others  have  done  unto  him. " 

"  But  if  your  holiness  intends  to  bestow  such  an  unheard-of  honor 
upon  the  prince,  you  should  at  least  have  given  him  a  day  wherein 
to  make  suitable  preparations  for  your  coming. " 

The  pope  smiled.  "Dear  friend,  I  see  farther  into  this  man's 
heart  than  you.  I  have  taken  him  vmawares,  precisely  because  he 
would  gladly  have  added  to  my  humiliations  by  neglecting  the  hint 
which  such  an  announcement  would  have  conveyed.  It  was,  there- 
fore, better  to  forestall  the  slight  by  making  it  impossible  for  him 
to  offer  it  as  a  matter  of  choice. " 

"  But  why  does  your  holiness  confer  upon  this  disdainful  Austrian 
an  honor  which  he  is  unworthy  to  receive?" 

"  Why  ?  Becavise  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  leave  nothing  undone  whicli 
can  be  conducive  to  the  interests  and  glory  of  our  holy  mother,  the 
church.  Who  knows  but  that  the  Lord  may  have  sent  me  to  convert 
an  erring  sinner  from  his  ways?  Go,  my  friend,  go,  and  send  my 
messenger.  I  must  see  this  man  who,  from  youth  to  old  age,  has 
defied  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  !" 

A  lialf  an  hour  later  an  imperial  state  carriage  was  before  the 
palace  of  Prince  Kaunitz,  and  the  pope,  followed  by  his  chaplain, 
entered  its  lofty  vestibule. 

The  prince  had  been  diligent,  for  there,  in  their  richest  liveries 
of  state,  were  his  whole  household,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase, 
over  whicli  a  rich  Turkey  carpet  had  been  spread  for  the  occasion, 
stood  the  young  Countess  Clary  in  full  dress,  wlio  knelt,  and  in  soft, 
trembling  accents  begged  of  liis  holiness  a  blessing. 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  her  head,  and  then  extended  it  that  she 
might  press  to  her  lips  the  ring  of  St.  Peter.  He  tlien  raised  her, 
and  begged  her  to  accompany  him  to  the  presence  of  her  uncle, 
the  prince. 

As  they  walked  together  from  one  magnificent  apartment  to  an- 
other, the  countess  was  apologizing  for  her  uncle  who,  not  having 


THE  POPE'S   DEPARTURE.  603 

left  his  room  for  some  weeks,  was  unable  to  come  out  to  receive  his 
holiness  from  dread  of  encountering  the  cold  air  of  the  halls. 

The  pope  bowed,  and  followed  the  countess  until  she  stopped 
before  a  closed  door,  and  said  : 

"In  this  room,  my  uncle  awaits  the  gracious  visit  of  your 
holiness. " 

The  pope  entered,  but  he  was  not  met  on  the  threshold  as  he  had 
anticipated.  No,  indeed.  Far  from  the  door,  with  the  entire  length 
of  the  room  between  them,  close  to  the  chimney  where  a  huge  fire 
was  burning,  stood  Kaunitz.  He  was  in  an  undress  coat,  with  his 
hat  upon  his  head,*  and  so  absorbed  in  thought  that  he  was  quite 
imaware  of  the  entrance  of  his  guest,  until  the  Countess  Clary,  in  a 
loud  voice,  said  : 

"His  holiness  the  pope." 

Kaunitz  moved,  and  measuring  his  advance  by  that  of  Pius,  he 
managed  to  meet  him  just  half  way,  and,  as  he  bowed,  he  at  last 
condescended  to  take  off  his  hat. 

Pius  returned  the  bow,  and,  as  is  customary  with  all  independent 
princes,  extended  his  hand  to  be  kissed. 

Kaunitz,  with  an  assurance  almost  inconceivable,  took  it  within 
his  own,  and  giving  it  a  hard  shake,  after  the  English  fashion, 
exclaimed  : 

" De  tout  vion  coeur  !  de  tout  mon  coeur  !  "  f 

At  this  familiarity  an  expression  of  pain  flitted  over  the  hand- 
some, noble  features  of  the  pope,  and  the  smile  died  upon  his  lips. 
But  he  had  expected  humiliation,  and  had  armed  himself  to  endure 

it. 

"I  have  come  to  visit  your  highness,"  said  he,  mildly,  "because, 
although  you  have  not  asked  it,  I  would  fain  leave  with  you  the 
blessing  of  the  church.  " 

"  I  thank  your  holiness  for  the  consideration  you  are  pleased  to 
show  me,"  replied  Kaunitz.  "But  before  all  things  let  me  request 
yovu-  permission  to  resume  my  hat.  The  cold  air  is  injurious  to  my 
weak  head. "  X 

And  whether  to  ward  off  the  cold  air  or  the  blessing  of  the  church, 
the  old  sinner  replaced  his  hat  without  waiting  to  hear  the  pope's 
reply. 

Pius  could  only  affect  not  to  perceive  the  rudeness,  while  he 
seated  himself,  and  invited  the  prince  to  be  seated  also. 

There  was  a  pause.  Kaunitz  took  the  chair,  and  then  looking 
full  into  the  eyes  of  his  guest,  awaited  with  perfect  indifference  the 
opening  of  the  conversation. 

The  expression  of  pain  deepened  upon  the  face  of  the  pope  ;  but 
again  he  recovered  himself,  and  made  a  second  effort  at  conciliation. 

"  I  have  come  to  give  to  your  highness  a  proof  of  my  esteem  and 
consideration, "  said  he. 

Kaunitz  bowed  stiffly.  "I  am  so  much  the  more  surprised  at 
this  mark  of  consideration,  that  I  have  never  been  able  to  see  in 
your  holiness's  state-papers  the  least  recognition  of  my  claims  to 
statesmanship. " 

"  Perhaps  we  may  have  misjudged  one  another.  I  have  desired, 
in  visiting  Vienna,  to  heal  all  misunderstandings,  and  to  afford  to 

*  Gross-Hofflnger,  iii.,  p.  38. 

t  Historical.— See  Gross-Hofflnger,  iii.,  p.  .39. 

i  The  prince's  own  words.  — See  Bourgoing,  "Pius  VI.  andhisPontiflcate,"p.  225. 


004  JOSEPH   II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

my  son  in  Christ,  the  emperor,  every  facility  for  his  reconciliation 
to  the  holy  church.  I  have  also  prayed  to  Almighty  God  to  touch 
the  heart  of  your  highness,  that  you  also  might  turn  your  steps  to- 
ward the  'one  fold. '  " 

"  I  hope  that  I  have  never  strayed  from  the  path  of  right.  The 
object  of  my  life  has  been  to  make  Austria  great  and  inde^jendent, 
and  to  aid  my  emperor  in  freeing  his  subjects  from  foreign  do- 
minion. To-day  no  earthly  potentate  has  a  voice  in  Austria,  save 
Joseph  ;  he  is  absolute  master  here,  and  as  all  his  acts  have  been  for 
Austria's  good,  she  has  entered  at  last  upon  a  career  of  indisputable 
prosperity.  But  there  is  nothing  wonderful  in  this,  when  he  had 
me  as  a  coadjutor. " 

Pius  looked  with  profound  sadness  at  this  haughty  statesman, 
who  had  not  a  thought  beyond  the  present  world. 

"You  speak  of  things  that  are  of  the  earth,  earthy.  And  yet 
your  hair  is  white  as  snow,  and  yon.  an  old  man  hastening  to  the 
grave  !  At  your  advanced  age  it  would  become  your  highness,  who 
have  done  so  much  for  your  sovereign,  to  do  something  now  to  rec- 
oncile yourself  to  your  Maker."  * 

Kaunitz  grew  deathly  pale  ;  not  all  the  paint  that  besmeared  his 
wrinkles  could  conceal  his  pallor.  His  forehead  contracted,  and 
hung  in  heavy  folds,  while  his  breath  came  fast  and  gasping.  The 
pope  had  spoken  of  the  grave,  and  the  vulnerable  heel  had  received 
a  wound. 

It  was  some  time  before  he  could  recover  his  self-possession — 
some  time  again  before  he  could  force  down  his  fury,  and  so  remain 
master  of  the  situation.  At  last  the  victory  was  won,  and  he  spoke 
calmly. 

"  I  hope, "  said  he,  "  that  having  done  nothing  to  offend  my  Maker, 
it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  seek  reconciliation  with  Him.  I  have 
done  all  that  I  could  for  religion ;  it  is  not  my  fault  if  her  interests 
are  not  identical  with  those  of  the  church.  But  pardon  me  that  I 
should  have  strayed  to  themes  so  unbecoming  to  my  character  as 
host,  and  yours  as  my  guest.  Let  us  speak  of  science,  art,  life,  and 
its  multitudinous  enjoyments.  Your  holiness,  I  know,  is  a  distin- 
guished patron  of  the  fine  arts.  And  as  you  are  fond  of  painting, 
allow  me  to  offer  you  a  sight  of  my  jiictures.  You  will  find  them 
(juite  worth  your  inspection." 

With  these  words,  Kaunitz  rose,  and,  without  waiting  for  the 
pope's  consent,  stepped  as  hastily  forward  as  his  infirmities  would 
permit,  and  opened  the  door  which  led  to  his  picture-gallery.  The 
po[K'  followed  him  leisurely,  and  after  him  came  the  chaplain,  the 
Coujitess  Clary,  and  Baron  Binder. 

Kaunitz  did  the  lionors,  passing  with  visible  haste  from  one 
painting  to  another.  "  Hei'e, "  said  he,  "  is  a  masterpiece  of  IMurillo, 
which  the  Vatican  might  envy  me — Murillo,  who  was  equally  suc- 
cessful, whether  he  tried  his  liandat  Virgin  or  vagabond.  Just  look 
at  this!  Did  ever  the  earth  bestow  upon  longing  man  a  more 
voluptuously-beautiful  woman  than  this  dark-eyed  Madonna!" 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  picture, "  murmin-ed  Pius,  approaching  with  the 
hope  of  being  spared  any  inore  su<'h  comments  on  art. 

"But  your  holiness  has  not  the  proi)er  light,  "cried  Kaunitz, 
familiarly.      "Come  a  little  more  to  the  left." 

And,  in  the  excitement  of  his  enthusiasm,  the  prince  was  so  for- 
*  The  pope's  own  words  to  Kaunitz.— See  "Pius  \^.  and  his  Pontificate,"  p.  226. 


THE  POPE'S  DEPARTURE.  605 

getful  of  the  rank  of  his  visitor  as  to  catch  him  by  the  arm,  and 
drag  him  to  the  spot  he  advised.  Pius  started,  and  for  one  moment 
his  eyes  darted  fire,  for,  to  the  very  depths  of  his  soul,  he  felt  the 
indignity  ;  but  he  remembered  his  resolve  to  "  bear  11  things, "  and 
stood  quietly  contemplating  the  picture  until  his  tormentor  sjwke 
again. 

He,  on  his  part,  afTected  not  to  perceive  that  he  had  done  any 
thing  amiss  ;  and  with  an  apperance  of  great  empressemcnt,  he  fol- 
lowed the  pope  from  picture  to  picture,  dragging  him  first  to  one 
point,  then  to  another,  as  he  pretended  to  think  that  the  be  t  light 
for  seeing  his  paintings  was  to  the  right  or  to  the  left.* 

The  pope  made  no  resistance,  perhaps  because  he  was  astounded 
at  the  insolence  of  the  pi'oceeding.  perhaps  because  he  judged  it  best 
to  affect  imconsciousness  of  the  insults  which  were  being  heaped 
upon  his  head.  But  he  was  wounded  to  the  heart,  and  raised  his 
eyes  to  his  chaplain,  who,  indignant  at  the  contumely  offered  to  his 
beloved  pontiff,  at  once  came  forward  to  his  relief,  by  reminding 
him  that  the  emperor  would  shortly  visit  his  rooms. 

"You  are  right,  my  friend,"  said  Pius.  Then  turning  to  Kau- 
nitz,  he  continued  :  "  I  must  go,  and  cannot  have  the  pleasure  of 
completing  my  survey  of  your  paintings.  Had  I  known  that  you 
possessed  so  many  treasures,  I  would  have  come  earlier,  that  I  might 
have  been  allowed  to  visit  them  a  little  more  at  my  leisure.  I  am 
under  many  obligations  to  j'ou  for  your  politeness,  and  for  the  very 
unusual  coiu-tesies  which  I  have  received  at  your  hands." 

He  took  the  arm  of  his  chaplain,  and  left  the  room.  At  the  door 
he  was  met  by  the  Countess  Clary,  and  as  she  knelt  a  second  time  be- 
fore him,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  head,  with  a  gesture  full  of 
nobleness  and  grace. 

"I  leave  you  my  blessing,  my  child,  and  I  leave  it  to  all  who  in- 
habit this  house.  May  those  whose  hearts  have  been  hardened  by 
sin,  return  in  lumiility  to  the  Lord  ;  for  humility  is  the  crown  of 
Christian  graces,  and  he  who  hath  it  not  can  never  aspire  to  life 
eternal. " 

He  went  on  without  ever  turning  his  head  or  seeming  to  know 
that  Kaunitz  was  behind,  excusing  himself  from  going  farther  with 
his  holiness,  by  reason  of  the  danger  to  which  he  would  be  exposed, 
etc.,  etc. 

At  the  portal  of  the  palace  the  pope  was  received  by  his  master 
of  ceremonies,  who  accompanied  him  to  his  cabinet.  One  glance 
at  his  pale  countenance  had  revealed  to  him  the  inutility  of  the 
condescension  of  the  supreme  pontiif,  who  with  a  weary  sigh  sank 
back  into  the  depths  of  an  arm-chair. 

"You  were  quite"  right, "  said  he,  after  a  pause,  "and  I  was 
wrong.  I  ought  never  to  have  gone  to  this  man.  God  has  punished 
me  for  my  vanity,  and  has  used  him  as  an  instrument  to  remind  me 
that  I  am  but  a  poor  miserable  creature,  full  of  projects,  but  empty 
of  results  !  Ah,  Battista !  with  what  bright  hopes  of  touching  the 
emperor's  heart  I  started  upon  this  pilgrimage  to  Vienna,  priding 
myself  upon  my  humility,  and  building  thereupon  my  trust !  Noth- 
ing has  come  of  my  eiforts— nothing !  I  have  learned  one  thing, 
however,  of  the  emperor.  He  is  no  Christian,  but  he  is  not  a 
bad  man .  I  really  believe  that  he  acts  from  a  sense  of  mistaken 
duty. " 

♦Bourgoing,  "Pius  VI.  and  his  Pontiflcate,"  p.  S27. 


606  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

The  master  of  ceremonies  shook  his  head,  and  was  about  to  reply, 
when  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  emperor  asked  admit- 
tance. The  master  of  ceremonies  retired  to  the  anteroom,  where  the 
suites  of  the  pope  and  the  emperor  were  awaiting  the  signal  for  de- 
parture. Joseph  approached  his  holiness,  and  gave  into  his  hand  a 
case  which  he  begged  him  to  accept  as  a  souvenir  of  his  visit  to 
Austria. 

Pius,  bewildered  by  all  that  he  had  endured  on  that  day,  opened 
it  in  silence.  But  he  was  astonished  when  he  saw  the  magnificence 
of  he  gift.  It  was  a  large  cross  of  pure,  white  brilliants,  upon  a 
bed  of  dark  crimson  velvet.* 

"I  beg  of  your  holiness, "  said  Joseph,  "to  wear  this  in  remem- 
brance of  me. " 

Pius  raised  his  head,  and  looked  anxiously  into  the  smiling  face 
of  the  emperor.  "Oh,  my  son,"  said  he,  "would  this  were  the  only 
cross  I  was  forced  take  back  with  me  to  Rome  !" 

"  Your  holiness  must  be  content  to  take  with  you  my  love  and 
regard,"  replied  Joseph,  evasively;  "and  I  would  gladly  give  you 
another  pledge  of  them  before  we  part.  Will  you  allow  me  to  bestow 
upon  your  nephew,  Luigi  Braschi,  the  title  and  diploma  of  a  prince?" 

Pius  shook  his  head.  "  I  thank  your  majesty  ;  but  my  nephew  can- 
not accept  the  honor  you  would  confer  upon  him.  It  was  not  to  ad- 
vance the  interests  of  my  family,  but  the  glory  of  the  church,  that  I 
came  to  Vienna,  f  Your  majesty  would  make  a  prince  of  my  nephew, 
and  yet  you  seek  to  humble  his  uncle,  who  is  the  vicar  of  Christ 
on  earth. " 

"What  have  I  done,  your  holiness?" 

"  Y^ou  have  suppressed  the  order  of  the  Mendicant  Friars,  and  you 
have  called  Cardinal  Megazzi  to  account,  because  he  printed  one  of 
my  bulls  without  submitting  it  to  you  for  your  approbation.  " 

"I  consider  that  the  Mendicants  lead  a  contemptible  life,  and  we 
have  no  use  for  them  in  Austria.  As  to  the  bull,  no  law  is  permitted 
to  go  forth  in  my  dominions  unless  it  is  approved  by  me,  for  the 
laws  of  my  laud  must  be  subject  to  no  power  but  my  own. " 

The  pojje  heaved  a  sigh,  for  it  was  useless  to  argue  with  Joseph. 
"Is  it  also  true  that  your  majesty  has  confiscated  and  sold  all  the 
property  of  the  convents  and  churches,  and  that  it  is  your  intention 
to  give  salaries  to  the  clergy?" 

"Yes,  tliat  is  my  plan  ;  I  may  as  well  be  frank  with  you,  and 
avow  it.  But  I  am  very  far  from  its  accomplishment ;  I  have  taken 
nothing  but  tlie  property  of  tlie  convents  as  yet.  " 

"  And  woe  to  your  sacrilegious  hand  that  you  have  done  so  !" 
cried  Pius,  rising  to  his  feet  and  confronting  the  emperor.  "  I  can- 
not conceal  from  your  majesty  that  your  contluct  has  infiicted  a 
serious  wound  upon  the  church,  and  has  scandalized  all  good  Chris- 
tians. Tlie  robbing  of  the  church  is  an  eiTor  condenmed  by  ecclesi- 
astic councils,  and  execrated  by  the  fathers  i  the  church.  Shall  I 
remind  you  of  the  words  wliii'h  John,  the  patriarch  of  Alexandria, 
spoke  to  a  sovereign  wlio  would  have  robbed  the  clergy  of  their  tem- 
poral goods?  'How  canst  tliou,  a  perishable  mortal,  give  unto 
another  that  which  is  not  tliine  own?  And  when  tliou  givest  that 
wliich  belongs  to  God,  thou  rebellest  against  Cod  himself.  What 
man  endowed  with  reason  will  not  pronounce  thine  act  a  transgres- 

*  This  cross  was  valued  at  2(X).(X)0  florins.— See  Iliihiier,  i.,  p.  1SJ8. 
■trius'sown  words.— See  Gross-Hoflinger,  lii.,  p.  40. 


THE  REPULSE.  607 

sion,  a  signal  and  sinful  injustice?  How  can  a  man  presume  to  call 
himself  a  Christian  who  desecrates  the  objects  consecrated  to  Christ !' 
Thus  has  God  spoken  through  the  mouth  of  His  servant,  and  his 
words  ai-e  appropriate  to  the  acts  of  your  majesty  !"  * 

The  voice  of  the  pope  was  choked  by  tears,  and  in  the  excess  of 
his  grief  he  sank  back  ujjon  the  chair  and  leaned  his  head  upon  his 
hand. 

The  emperor  had  listened  with  profound  indifference.  It  was 
not  the  first  time  he  had  seen  the  pope  thus  moved,  and  he  was^  per- 
fectly aware  that  it  was  better  to  make  no  reply  until  the  violence 
of  his  emotion  had  exhausted  itself 

"Your  holiness  goes  too  far  in  your  apostolic  zeal,  "said  he,  after  a 
pause  of  some  length.  "  I  shall  neither  quote  the  Scriptures  nor  the 
Fathers  in  my  defence  ;  for  you  and  I  would  not  be  apt  to  interpret 
them  in  the  same  sense.  I  shall  content  myself  with  observing  that, 
in  spite  of  all  your  anger,  I  shall  hearken  to  the  voice  of  my  own 
conscience,  which  tells  me  that  my  acts  are  those  of  a  wise  lawgiver, 
and  of  a  faithful  defender  of  religion.  Witli  this  voice,  my  own 
reason,  and  help  from  above,  I  am  not  afraid  of  being  in  error,  f  At 
the  same  time,  I  assure  your  holiness  of  my  sincerest  regard.  You 
may  not  have  attained  the  object  of  your  visit,  but  I  hope  that  you 
carry  away  at  least  the  conviction  of  my  honesty  and  integrity  of 
purpose.  The  interests  of  state  and  churcli  may  be  at  variance,  but 
we  need  not  be  personal  enemies  ;  and  over  the  gulf  which  separates 
us  as  princes,  we  may  join  hands  as  friends,  may  we  not?" 

With  these  words,  the  emperor  extended  his  hand,  and  the  pope 
did  not  refuse  to  take  it. 

"  It  is  time  for  me  to  be  going, "  replied  he.  "  This  cross,  which 
in  the  prodigality  of  your  friendship,  you  have  bestowed  upon  me, 
I  shall  wear  for  your  sake,  and  it  shall  remind  me  to  pray  daily  that 
God  may  enlighten  you,  and  lead  you  back  to  the  Way,  the  Truth, 
and  the  Life.  For  in  the  church  alone  is  true  peace  to  be  found. 
He  who  strives  against  her,  strives  against  Christ.  Farewell,  and 
may  He  mercifully  bring  you  to  a  sense  of  your  errors  1" 


CHAPTER    CLX. 

THE  REPULSE. 

The  aristocracy  of  Vienna  were  in  a  state  of  extreme  excitement. 
It  was  whispered  fi'om  one  noble  to  another,  that  the  AuHc  Council 
had  condemned  Count  Podstadsky-Liechtenstein  for  life  to  the  house 
of  correction,  and  he  was  to  sweep  the  streets  in  the  garb  of  a  common 
criminal.  J  This  was  not  all.  Another  fearful  announcement  had 
fallen  like  a  bolt  upon  the  heads  of  the  most  illustrious  families  in 
Vienna.  For  some  weeks  past,  Count  Szekuly  had  been  missing. 
His  servants  had  given  out  that  he  had  gone  to  visit  his  relatives  in 
Hungary  ;  but  they  seemed  so  embarrassed  and  uneasy,  that  no  one 
believed  them.  Colonel  Szekuly  had  many  powerful  friends.  He 
was  an  intimate  associate  of  all  the  Hungarian  noblemen  in  Vienna, 
and  had  long  been  a  welcome  guest  wherever  the  fashionable  world 

♦This  harangue  of  the  pope  is  historical.— Hubner,  i.,  p.  385. 

t  Joseph's  own  words.— Hubner,  i.,  p.  287. 

$This  was  in  accordance  with  the  new  Josephine  code. 


608  JOSEPH   II.    AND   Ills  COURT. 

had  assembled.     Moreover,  he  was  the  adorer  of  the  most  admired 
woman  in  Vienna,  the  lovely  Countess  Baillou. 

She,  too,  had  disappeared.  Where  could  they  be  ^  Was  it  acci- 
dent, or  had  she  responded  to  his  love,  and  left  a  world  of  wor- 
shippers, to  live  for  him  alone? 

Finally  tbe  mystery  was  solved.     A  few  days  after  tlie  arrest  of 

Podstadsky,  Szekuly  also  had  been  arrested.     It  was  now  well  known 

.that  Podstadsky  liad  forged  notes  ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  suspect 

a  man  of  Szekuly's  vm impeachable  character  of  any  connection  with 

a  crime  of  that  nature. 

Unhappily,  however,  though  less  in  degree,  the  accusation 
against  Szekuly  was  similar  in  kind.  He  was  a  defaulter  ;  and  from 
the  coffers  of  his  regiment  (wliich  were  confided  to  his  care)  sixty 
thousand  florins  had  disappeared. 

The  Countess  Baillou  was  his  accuser.  She  had  been  charged 
with  being  a  party  to  Podstadsky's  fraud,  but  he,  as  well  as  Szekuly, 
had  loudly  declared  her  innocence.  Both  had  avowed  tliemselves 
to  be  her  lovers,  and  it  was  ascertained  that  her  household  had  been 
maintained  at  Podstadsky's  cost.  As  his  mistress,  she  had  received 
many  of  his  bank-notes,  but  he  protested  tli at  she  knew  nothing  of  his 
forgeries.  He  confessed  his  own  guilt,  but  firmly  upheld  her  inno- 
cence. So  far  from  being  his  accomplice,  Podstadsky  declared  that 
she  had  been  his  victim. 

But  a  coffer  containing  twenty  thousand  ducats  had  been  found 
upon  the  person  of  the  countess.  This  money  had  not  been  given 
her  by  Podstadsky,  since  he  had  nothing  but  forged  notes  to  give. 
The  countess,  when  questioned,  answered  unhesitatingly,  that  one- 
half  the  sum  she  had  won  at  play,  and  the  otlier  half  she  had  received 
as  a  present  from  Colonel  Szekuly.  It  was  well  known  that  Szekuly 
had  uot  the  means  of  bestowing  such  princely  gifts  ;  yet,  when  in- 
formed of  the  countess's  charge,  he  had  grown  pale,  but  replied  that 
the- countess  had  spoken  nothing  but  truth. 

Suspicion  was  aroused  ;  the  strong  box  of  the  regiment  was  ex- 
amined, and  found  empty  !  Von  Szekuly  acknowledged  that  he  had 
taken  the  money,  believing  in  good  faith  that,  by  the  sale  of  certain 
deeds  in  his  possession,  he  would  be  able  to  replace  it  at  short  notice. 
But  where  were  these  papers  ?  They  could  not  be  found,  and  Szekuly 
refused  to  give  any  account  of  them.  He  was  guilty,  he  said,  and 
must  submit  to  his  fate.  Colonel  von  Szekuly,  a  Hungarian  baron, 
under  sentence  for  tlieft !  This  was  a  blot  upon  the  escutcheon  of 
more  than  one  illustrious  family.  But  the  emperor,  in  framing  his 
severe  code,  had  reserved  to  himself  the  right  to  pardon  ;  and  this 
right,  it  was  hoped,  he  would  exercise  in  favor  of  the  higli-born 
criminals.  It  was  not  possible  that  he  intended  to  humiliate  the 
nobility  of  Austria  so  cruelly  as  to  condemn  two  of  them  to  the  pil- 
lory, to  the  sweeping  of  the  streets,  to  be  chained  to  two  common 
felons  for  life  !  * 

No ! — this  was  an  outrage  which  the  emperor  would  never  dare  to 
perpetrate,  for  it  would  arouse  the  bitter  animosity  of  the  whole 
aristocracy.  Still  it  would  be  better  to  petition  him  at  once,  and 
warn  him  of  his  peril. 

He  was  petitioned,  but  his  invariable  reply  was,  that  the  law- 
must  decide.  It  was  known,  however,  that  the  sentence  was  not 
signed,  and  there  was  still  hope.     But  how  to  reach  the  emperor? 

*Hubuei-,  ii.,  p.  383. 


THE  REPULSE.  609 

Since  the  council  had  pronounced  judgment  on  the  criminals,  Joseph 
had  granted  audience  to  no  one  ;  he  had  avoided  all  proximity  to 
the  nobles,  and  to  secure  himself  from  importunity,  had  ceased  to 
ride  in  the  park,  contenting  himself  with  a  daily  drive  in  his 
cabriolet.  Finally  the  petitioners  remembered  the  "  Controlorgang, " 
and  thither  they  repaired  early  in  the  morning.  Ladies,  as  well  as 
lords,  came  on  foot,  that  the  emperor  might  not  be  warned  by  the 
sound  of  their  rolling  equipages  to  deny  himself  again.  They  were 
the  first  to  enter  the  palace  on  that  day,  and  were  so  numerous  that 
no  other  petitioners  could  obtain  entrance.  On  that  occasion,  then, 
they  were  among  their  peers,  and  tlie  canaille  would  never  know 
how  count  and  countess,  baron  and  baroness,  had  humbled  them- 
selves for  the  sake  of  their  caste. 

As  soon  as  Gunther  opened  the  door,  they  rushed  into  the  small 
room  which  was  called  the  Controlorgang,  and  there,  with  beating 
hearts,  awaited  the  entrance  of  the  all-powerful  emperor. 

He  came,  and  when  he  saw  who  were  the  petitioners  of  the  day, 
his  countenance  expressed  astonislimeut :  but  he  did  not  depart  from 
his  usual  habit,  and  walked  slowly  down  the  middle  of  the  room, 
extending  his  hand  to  receive  tiie  petitions. 

"HowV"  said  he,  when  he  had  reached  the  last  person,  "Count 
Lampredo,  you  have  nothing  to  present !  You  all  desire  to  speak 
with  me?     I  fear  that  my  time  is  too  short  to  gratify  you." 

"Sire,  we  have  but  one  petition  to  make,"  said  the  count,  speak 
ing  for  the  others.     "  One  common  misfortune  threatens  us  all — " 

"What  can  it  be?" 

"Oh,  your  majesty, "  cried  he,  fervently,  " have  mercy  upon  Count 
Podstadsky  and  Baron  von  Szekuly  !" 

•'Mercy,  sire,  mercy  for  Podstadsky  and  Szekuly!"  cried  the 
noble  petitioners  with  one  accord,  while  all  knelt  before  the  as- 
tounded emi^eror. 

He  surveyed  them  with  an  angry  frown.  "  Rise,  all  of  you, "  said 
he.  "Have  you  forgotten  that  kneeling  has  been  abolished  here? 
The  Spanish  customs  which  were  once  so  popular  in  the  palace,  are 
unbecoming  in  this  room,  wliere  all  who  enter  it  are  nothing  but 
petitioners  seeking  justice  at  my  hands. " 

"And  mercy,  sire!"  added  Count  Lampredo,  imploringly. 

"And  mercy  which  can  be  conceded  only  so  far  as  it  is  perfectly 
compatible  with  justice. " 

"Mercy,  gracious  emperor,  mercy  for  Podstadsky  and  Szekuly!" 
reiterated  the  petitioners. 

"  You  ask  for  mercy  which  wounds  justice,  and  I  repeat  that  I 
cannot  grant  the  one  without  the  other.  Count  Podstadsky,  through 
his  frauds,  has  ruined  thousands  of  my  subjects  ;  Baron  von  Szekuly 
has  stolen  sixtj^  thousand  florins,  and  both  these  men  have  disgraced 
their  births  and  titles." 

"Allow  Szekuly  to  be  tried  by  a  military  court,  sire.  They  at 
least  would  shield  him  from  dishonor,  for  they  would  sentence  him 
to  death. " 

"He  has  committed  a  vulgar  crime  and  he  shall  be  punished  ac- 
cording to  the  burghers'  code.  That  code  ignores  capital  punish- 
ment. " 

"  But  its  punishments  are  more  fearful  than  death,  sire.  A  man 
is  thrice  dead  who  has  lost  liberty,  honor,  and  name.  The  man  who 
in  manacles  sweeps  the  public  streets,  or  tugs  at  the  car,  is  a  thousand 


GIO  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

times  more  to  be  pitied  than  he  who  lays  his  head  upon  the  block. 
Oh,  sire,  it  cannot  be  that  you  would  consign  a  nobleman  to  such 
contumely  !" 

"  No,  I  honor  the  nobleman  too  much  to  brand  him  with  such  in- 
famy, ■■  replied  the  emperor,  hastily.  "  But  if  a  cavalier  commits  a 
crime,  I  disfranchise  him  at  once  ;  and,  stripped  of  name,  title,  and 
privileges,  I  hand  him  over  to  the  law  which  regards  him  exactly  as 
it  does  any  other  base-born  villain.*  Be  comforted,  then.  These 
criminals  are  no  longer  noblemen,  and  have  nothing  in  common 
with  you." 

"  Oh,  sire,  do  not  say  so ;  for  their  shame  is  reflected  upon  us 
all !" 

"  How '?"  exclaimed  Joseph,  with  affected  surprise,  "  are  you  all 
thieves  and  forgers'?" 

"No,  sire;  but  our  honor  suffers  through  their  dishonor.  Oh, 
your  majesty,  in  the  name  of  the  illustrious  families  who  for  cen- 
turies have  been  the  loyal  subjects  of  your  house,  save  our  escutch- 
eons from  this  foul  blot !" 

"  Save  us,  sire,  save  us  from  infamy  !"  echoed  the  others. 

"No!"  exclaimed  the  emperor.  " He  who  is  not  ashamed  of  the 
crime,  will  not  be  ashamed  of  the  disgrace.  If,  for  the  sake  of  his 
rank,  a  man  is  to  have  the  privilege  of  being  a  villain,  where,  then, 
is  justice? t  Not  another  word  of  this!  My  forbearance  is  ex- 
hausted ;  for  I  have  sought  by  every  means  to  convince  you  that,  as 
a  sovereign,  I  shall  show  partiality  to  no  order  of  men.  Podstadsky 
and  Szekuly  shall  suffer  to  the  full  extent  of  the  law,  for  the  worth 
of  their  aucestoi's  cannot  wipe  ovit  their  own  unworthiness. " 

The  emperor  withdrew,  and  when  the  door  closed  behind  him, 
many  an  eye  there  flashed  with  hatred,  and  many  a  compressed  lip 
told  of  meditated  vengeance  for  the  indignity  suffered  by  a  powerful 
order  at  his  hands  that  day. 

"Our  humiliation,  then,  has  been  of  no  avail  I"  muttered  Count 
Lampredo,  "and  the  nobles  of  Austria  must  suffer  disgrace  because 
of  the  obstinate  cruelty  of  the  man  who  should  uphold  them. " 

"But  we  will  be  revenged!"  whispered  Count  Hojada,  a  near 
relative  of  Szekuly 's.  "The  sovei-eign  wlio,  like  Joseph,  heaps 
obloquy  upon  a  nobility,  some  of  whom  are  his  equals  in  descent,  is 
lost !     The  emperor  shall  remember  this  hour,  and  rue  it  also  !" 

"  Yes, "  said  another,  "  he  shall  repent  this  day.  We  are  all  of  one 
mind,  are  we  not,  friends?" 

"  Ay, "  muttered  they,  with  gnashing  teeth.  "  He  shall  pay  dearly 
for  this  1" 


CHAPTER    CLXI. 

THE  COUNT  IN  THE   PILLORY. 

Crowds  of  people  gathered  around  the  street  corners  to  read  the 
large  hand-bills  iwsted  there.  The  bills  announced  that  Count  Pod- 
stadsky-Liei.-htenstein  hatl  been  condemned  to  three  daj's  of  pillory, 
to  public  sweeping  of  the  streets,  and  ten  years'  detention  in  the*' 
house  of  correction.  Colonel  von  )Szekuly  to  three  days  of  pillory, 
and  four  years'  detention. 

*  Jos(^ph's  own  words.    See  Hubner,  il.,  p.  4.33. 
tibid. 


THE  COUNT  IN  THE  PILLORY.  611 

The  guilt  of  the  Countess  Baillou  not  having  been  fully  estab- 
lished, she  was  pardoned  by  the  emperor.  But  she  was  ordered  to 
be  present  at  Podstadsky's  exposition  in  the  pillory,  and  then  to  leave 
Vienna  forever. 

The  people  read  these  fearful  tidings  in  dumb  amazement  and 
vague  apprehension  of  evil  to  themselves.  Never  had  they  so  com- 
pletely realized  the  new  order  of  things  as  at  this  moment.  One  of 
the  privileged,  whom  they  had  hitherto  beheld  at  a  distance  in 
splendid  equipages,  on  elegant  horses,  in  brilliant  uniforms  around 
the  person  of  the  emperor,  one  of  these  demi-gods  was  to  be  trailed 
in  the  dust  like  a  criminal  from  the  dregs  of  the  populace.  A  count, 
in  the  gray  smock  of  the  felon,  was  to  sweep  the  streets,  whicli, 
perchance,  his  aristocratic  foot  had  never  trodden  before.  A  proud 
Hungarian  nobleman,  a  colonel  of  the  guard,  was  to  be  exposed  in 
the  pillory  for  three  days.  These  were  terrible  and  startling  events. 
Not  a  trace  of  exultation  was  upon  the  gloomy  faces  of  the  multi- 
tude ;  this  abasement  of  two  men  of  illustrious  birth  to  an  equality 
with  boors,  seemed  an  invasion  of  the  conservative  principles  of 
society.     It  was  an  ugly  dream — the  people  could  not  realize  it. 

They  must  go  to  the  spot  where  the  sentence  was  to  be  executed, 
to  see  if  indeed  Olympus  had  been  levelled  to  the  earth.  Hurried 
along  by  one  common  impulse,  the  silent  multitude  wound  in  a  long 
stream  through  the  streets,  until  they  reached  the  market-place 
where  the  sentence  was  to  be  carried  out.  Neither  idle  curiosity 
nor  malice  had  led  the  people  thither ;  it  was  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
new  era  which  at  last  was  dawning  upon  the  world. 

There,  in  the  centre  of  the  great  open  square,  was  the  throne  of 
infamy  upon  which  an  Austrian  nobleman  was  about  to  bid  adieu 
to  name,  honor,  family,  and  the  associations  which  had  surrounded 
his  boyhood,  and  to  be  thrust  into  the  revolting  companionship  of 
robbers  and  murderers ! 

Not  a  smile  was  seen  upon  those  appalled  faces  ;  men  whispered  to 
one  another  that  the  count  was  the  only  son  of  one  of  the  proudest 
families  in  Hungary  ;  and  that  the  countess,  his  mother,  had  died 
of  her  son's  shame.  The  eyes  of  the  women  filled  wth  tears,  and,  for 
the  sake  of  the  martyred  mother,  they  forgave  the  guilty  son.  The 
weeping  of  the  women  deepened  the  sympathies  of  the  men  ;  and 
they  began  to  mvirmur  against  the  heartless  emperor,  who  degraded 
an  illustrious  subject,  and  sent  a  noble  countess  broken-hearted  to 
the  grave  ! 

And  now  appeared  the  criminal.  Culprit  though  he  was,  his 
beauty  and  air  of  distinction  were  indisputable. 

"Poor  young  man  !"  murmui'ed  the  women,  sobbing. 

"He  will  not  long  survive  his  disgrace,"  said  the  fnen,  son'ow- 
fully.  "  He  looks  like  a  ghost,  and  the  emperor  will  soon  have  to 
bury  him  by  the  side  of  his  mother. " 

No  one  remembered  that  this  man  had  committed  an  infamous 
crime  ;  no  one  thanked  the  emperor  for  having  bestowed  upon  the 
Austrian  people  the  inestimable  gift  of  equality  before  the  la^^^  The 
commoner  himself  felt  aggrieved  at  the  monarch  who  had  treated  a 
nobleman  no  better  than  he  would  have  done  a  serf. 

Count  Podstadsky  was  still  in  the  elegant  costume  of  the  day. 
Graceful  and  distinguished  in  his  bearing,  he  leaned  his  weary  body 
against  the  stake  that  supported  the  scaffold  on  which  he  was  to 
suffer  the  last  degree  of  public  infamy.     But  now  the  executioner 


612  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

approached,  holding  a  pair  of  large  glistening  shears.  He  gathered 
the  soft  brown  curls  of  the  count  in  his  rough  grasp,  and  very  soon 
the  glossy  locks  fell,  and  there  remained  nothing  Init  the  shorn  head 
of  the  felon.  This  done,  the  executioner  drew  off  the  gold-embroid- 
ered coat  which  became  the  young  nobleman  so  well,  and  threw  over 
his  shoulders  the  coarse  smock,  which,  henceforth,  was  to  designate 
him  as  a  miscreant. 

How  changed,  alas,  was  the  high-born  Carlo !  How  little  this 
chattering  creature,  disguised  in  serge,  resembled  the  cavalier  who 
had  enlisted  the  sympathy  of  the  multitude  I  He  was  no  longer  a 
man,  and  name  he  had  none.  His  number,  in  scarlet  list  upon  the 
left  sleeve  of  his  smock,  was  the  only  mark  that  distinguished  him 
from  his  brethren — the  other  malefactors.  But  the  fearful  toilet  was 
not  yet  at  an  end.  The  feet  and  hands  were  yet  to  be  manacled.  As 
the  handcuflfs  clicked  around  those  delicate  wrists,  the  executioner 
looked  up  in  amazement.  Heretofore  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
hear  the  jeers  and  loud  mockery  of  the  multitude,  as  they  applauded 
the  completion  of  the  felon's  toilet ;  but  to-day  there  was  not  a 
soimd  !  Nothing  to  be  seen  but  pale,  sorrowfvil  faces — nothing  to  be 
heard  but  sobs  and  murmurs  of  sympathy. 

Still  one  more  torture  !  The  executioner  gave  him  the  broom,  the 
baton  of  his  disgrace,  and  he  grasped  its  handle  for  support.  He 
could  scarcely  stand  now  ! 

At  this  moment,  in  fiendish  contrast  with  the  behavior  of  the 
people,  a  loud,  mocking  laugh  was  heard.  Shudderingly  they  looked 
around,  wondering  who  it  was  that  could  add  the  weight  of  a  sneer 
to  the  supreme  misery  which  was  rending  their  hearts.  It  came 
from  above  ;  and  every  face,  even  that  of  the  wretched  Podstadsky, 
was  uplifted  in  horror.  He  caught  at  the  stake,  and  his  vacant  eyes 
rested  upon  the  house  whence  the  cruel  lavigh  had  issued.  There, 
on  a  balcony,  guarded  by  several  men  in  black,  stood  a  beautiful 
young  woman.  She  it  was  who  had  dealt  the  blow.  In  the  hour  of 
his  agony  her  rosy  lijis  had  mocked  him  ! 

"Arabella!"  shrieked  the  despairing  man  ;  and  with  this  cry  he 
sank  insensible  to  the  earth.* 

While  all  this  was  transpiring  at  the  market-place,  an  imperial 
state -carriage  had  been  hurrying  through  the  streets  until  it  stopped 
before  a  gloomy  house,  of  which  the  doors  and  window-shutters 
were  all  closed.  A  footman,  in  the  imperial  livery,  was  seen  to 
ring,  and  then  an  old  man  in  faded  blacli  livery  opened  the  door.  A 
few  whispered  words  passed  between  them  ;  then  a  cavalier,  in  an 
elegant  uniform,  sprang  from  the  carriage  and  entered  the  house. 
The  old  butler  went  before,  and  showed  him  up  the  creaking  stair- 
case, and  through  a  suite  of  mouldy  rooms  until  they  reached  one 
with  closed  doors. 

"So  ])lease  yoiir  majesty,"  said  the  old  man,  "Count  Podstadsky- 
Liechtenstein  is  in  there." 

The  emperor  nodded.  "  Do  not  announce  me, "  said  he,  and  he 
knocked  at  tlie  door.  A  feeble  voice  from  within  responded  to  the 
knock,  and  the  emperor  entered  without  furtlier  ceremony.     A  tall, 

♦Count  Podstadsky  did  not  lonjj  survive  his  dispraoe.  His  delicate  body  soon 
sank  under  the  hardsliips  of  liis  tcrrilile  existence.  One  d;iy  wliile  sweepinj^  tlie 
streets  }\t'  ruptured  a  blood-vessel,  and  died  there,  witli  no  mourners  save  his  fel- 
low-criminals.—See  Ilubuer,  ii.,  pp.  .')H8-.'>i)l.  "(Characteristic and  Historical  Anec- 
dotes of  Joseph  II."    Friedel's  "Letters  froia  Vieuua,"  vol.  i.,  p.  68. 


THE  COUNT  IN  THE  PILLORY.  613 

venerable  man  in  deep  mourning  came  forward  and  looked  at  him 
with  hollow,  staring  eyes. 

"  The  emperor  !"  exclaimed  he,  recognizing  his  unexpected  guest. 

"Yes,  Count  Podstadsky,  it  is  I,"  said  the  emperor,  bowing,  as 
he  would  have  done  before  a  mighty  monarch.  "  I  come  to  express 
my  profound  regret  for  the  great  misfortune  which  has  lately  befallen 
you.  No  man  knows  better  than  myself  what  grief  it  is  to  lose  a 
beloved  wife.     And  yours  was  such  a  noble,  such  a  devoted  wife  !" 

"Devoted!"  echoed  the  old  count,  sadly.  "Alas,  sire,  there  was 
something  on  earth  which  was  nearer  to  her  heart  than  I,  else  she 
had  not  died  and  left  me  alone.  I  loved  nothing  but  her,  and  in 
losing  her  I  lose  all  that  made  life  endurable.  I  would  wish  to  die 
now  ;  but  I  have  still  a  principle  to  defend — the  honor  of  mj^  family. " 

"We  both  have  a  principle  to  defend!"  replied  the  emperor, 
deeply  moved  at  the  excessive  grief  of  which  he  was  a  witness. 
"  The  principle  of  honor  and  justice — let  us  both  teach  the  world  that 
justice  attacks  the  individual  criminal  and  not  his  family  ;  and  tliat 
the  honor  of  a  family  requires  that  justice  should  be  satisfied.  The 
name  of  Podstadsky- Liechtenstein  has  ever  been  an  illustrious  one, 
and  I  desire  to  prove  to  you  my  regard  for  your  race.  Give  me  your 
hand,  count,  and  let  us  be  friends. " 

He  extended  his  hand,  and  with  quiet  solemnity  the  old  count 
took  it  and  looked  up  into  his  sovereign's  face. 

"  I  thank  your  majesty, "  said  he,  after  a  pause.  "  Your  conduct 
toward  me  is  noble  and  magnanimous,  and  I  shall  be  grateful  for  it 
to  my  latest  breath.  You  have  acted  as  became  a  sovereign  wdio  has 
no  right  to  set  at  defiance  tlie  laws  he  has  made.  Had  I  been  his 
judge,  I  should  myself  have  condemned  the  criminal  who  was  once 
my  son,  and  to-day  is  the  murderer  of  his  mother.  Years  ago  I  satin 
judgment  over  this  transgressor  and  when  I  did  so,  I  lost  my  only 
child.  As  for  the  man  who  to-day  has  suffered  the  penalty  of  his 
crimes,  I  know  him  no  longer." 

"And  your  honor  is  unspotted, "  said  the  emperor.  "Give  me 
your  arm,  count,  and  let  me  conduct  you  to  my  carriage.  It  is  a 
lovely  day.  We  will  take  a  drive  togetlier,  and  then  dine  at  Schon- 
brunn.  Come — I  am  resolved  that  you  shall  spend  tliis  whole  day 
with  me.     Give  me  your  arm." 

"Sire,"  whispered  the  old  man,  hesitating  and  looking  gloomily 
toward  the  window,  "the  day  is  so  bright  and  the  sun  shines  so 
fiercely,  I  fear  that  my  eyes  cannot  bear  the  glare.  I  beg  of  you 
allow  me  to  remain  at  home." 

The  emperor  shook  his  head.  "Nay,  your  eyes  are  not  weak. 
You  can  bear  the  fullest  light  of  day  ;  you  have  no  need  to  hide  your 
honored  head  from  the  gaze  of  the  world.  Take  courage,  dear 
friend,  and  think  of  what  we  both  have  said.  Have  we  not  our 
principles  to  defend?  And  must  we  not  both  assert  them  coura- 
geously ?" 

"  Your  majesty  is  right, "  cried  the  old  count.  "  I  am  ready  to 
follow  you. "  * 

And  while  Carl  Podstadsky,  awaking  from  his  swoon,  looked  up 
into  the  face  of  the  malefactor,  who  from  henceforth  was  to  be  the 
companion  of  his  sleeping  and  waking,  and  tlie  witness  of  his  de- 
spair— while  one  of  a  long  train  of  outlawed  felons,  he  dragged  his 
misery  through  the  hot,  dusty  streets,  his  father  drove  with  the  em- 

♦Hubner,  ii.,  p.  391. 


614  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

peror  to  Schonbrunn,  and  among  all  the  brilliant  guests  who  dined 
with  him  on  that  day,  to  none  was  the  emperor  so  deferential  in  his 
covirtesy  as  to  the  old  Count  Podstadsky-Liechtensteiu. 


CHAPTER    CLXII. 

THE  NEMESIS. 

Meanwhile  where  was  the  siren  who  had  lured  Szekuly  to  de- 
struction? Where  was  she  for  whose  sake  Carl  Podstadsky  had  pre- 
cipitated himself  into  the  waters  of  obloquy?  When  the  waves  had 
engulfed  him,  she  had  disappeared,  and  the  last  sounds  that  had 
rung  in  his  ears  were  the  sovmds  of  her  cruel  mirth  ! 

Was  there  no  punishment  in  reserve  for  such  atrocity?  No 
punishment  for  this  woman  without  heart,  without  pity,  without 
remorse?    Would  no  hand  unmask  this  beautiful  fiend? 

The  hand  is  ready,  but  it  is  invisible  ;  and  Arabella,  in  her  new- 
found security,  is  dazzled  at  the  magnitude  of  her  own  good  for- 
tune. "  Whom  the  gods  wish  to  destroy  they  first  blind. "  True,  she 
had  lost  her  gold,  the  price  of  Szekuly '  s  good  fame  ;  but  she  was  not 
poor  ;  her  jewels  were  worth  many  such  a  coffer  of  ducats.  Once  in 
possession  of  her  casket,  she  was  again  rich,  happy,  and  courted. 
Not  a  creature,  save  Giuseppe,  knew  the  whereabouts  of  this  precious 
casket,  and  with  it  they  must  away  to  Paris  ! 

It  was  dusk,  and  Giuseppe,  with  a  ti-avelling  carriage,  once  more 
awaited  his  mistress  at  the  corner  of  the  street.  There  remained 
nothing  to  do  now  but  to  remove  the  coffer  from  its  hiding-place,  and 
that  was  the  work  of  half  an  hour.  Arabella  had  the  key  of  the  lit- 
tle postern,  and  there  was  no  danger  of  spies,  for  the  house  was 
empty.  Having  avowed  herself  to  be  the  pensioned  mistress  of 
Podstadsky,  the  law  had  placed  its  seal  upon  her  effects,  and  they 
were  all  to  be  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the  count's  creditors. 

The  night  was  dark,  and  the  street  lanterns  were  propitiously 
dim.  Here  and  there  was  heard  the  step  of  a  solitary  foot-passen- 
ger, and  from  time  to  time  the  monotonous  tramp  of  the  patrol.  One 
of  these  patrols  had  just  passed  the  garden-wall  of  the  hotel,  of 
which  the  Countess  Baillou  had  been  the  presiding  goddess.  He 
looked  up  at  the  darkened  windows  as  he  went,  wondered  whither 
the  goddess  had  flown,  and  walked  on.  When  the  echo  of  his  step 
had  died  away  from  the  pavement,  and  the  last  beams  of  the  lantern 
were  flickering  out,  a  dark,  slender  form  emerged  from  one  of  the 
pillars  of  the  wall,  and  glided  toward  the  little  side-door,  which 
opened  on  that  narrow  street.  The  key  was  in  the  door,  it  clicked 
in  the  lock,  and  the  figure  disappeared  within.     All  was  quiet. 

"  I  am  safe, "  thought  she  ;  "  not  a  sound  is  within  hearing.  Now 
for  my  treasures,  and  away  !  away  from  this  hateful  city  forever !" 

"Whom  the  gods  would  destroy,  they  first  blind." 

Arabella  never  suspected  that,  under  cover  of  darkness,  others 
besides  herself  were  lurking  in  that  garden  ;  and  now  as  she  ad- 
vanced toward  the  house,  two  tall  figures  approached  the  postern, 
and  stationed  themselves  on  either  side  of  it. 

"She  is  caught,"  wliispered  one. 

"Yes,"  replied  another,  "the  bird  has  come  of  its  own  accord 
into  the  net.     We  must  wait  now  until  we  receive  further  orders." 


THE  NEMESIS.  615 

Arabella,  meanwhile,  looked  exultingly  at  the  dark  clouds  which 
overhung  the  sky,  and  almost  laughed.  "Thank  you,  fair  moon," 
said  she,  "for  withdrawing  your  splendor  at  my  behest.  To  morrow 
you  shall  shed  your  soft  beams  upon  my  flight,  for  then  I  shall  need 
your  friendly  light.  Far  away  from  Vienna,  I  shall  be  rich,  happy, 
and  free !" 

Now  she  was  at  the  servants'  entrance.  Oh,  how  the  hinges 
creaked,  as  she  opened  the  door  !  But  what  of  it?  No  one  was  there 
to  hear  the  sound.  How  foolishly  her  heart  was  beating  !  Now  she 
was  inside,  and,  with  spasmodic  haste,  she  bolted  herself  within. 
The  darkness  was  intense.  She  could  not  see  lier  hand  before  her, 
and  in  spite  of  herself  a  cold  chill  ran  through  her  frame,  and  her 
knees  trembled  with  vague  terror.  What  if,  through  this  black  ex- 
panse, a  hand  should  suddenly  touch  hers  !  and — "  Oh,  how  dreadful 
is  this  darkness  !"  thought  she.  "  I  might  die  here,  and  no  one  could 
come  to  my  help !  I  feel  as  I  did  once  before,  on  that  night  of 
horror  in  Italy !" 

She  shuddered,  and,  almost  swooning  with  fright,  cowered  under 
the  shelter  of  the  marble  balustrade,  to  which  she  had  by  this  time 
groped  her  way.  And  now,  before  her  terrified  soul,  swept  phantom 
after  phantom,  all  from  the  miserable  spirit-land  of  the  past.  Once 
more  she  lived  through  a  night  dark  as  this,  when  a  wretched,  be- 
trayed, dishonored  girl,  she  had  slunk  throvigh  the  streets  of  Rome 
in  search  of  death — death  and  annihilation  in  the  black  waves  of  the 
Tiber.  She  felt  the  waters  engulf  her,  she  heard  her  own  death-cry, 
the  last  protest  of  youth  against  self-destruction  ;  and  then  she  felt 
the  grasp  of  Podstadsky — Podstadsky  who,  in  restoring  her  to  the 
world,  had  laid  a  new  curse  upon  her  life.  Until  then  she  had  been 
luxurious,  frivolous,  pleasure -loving  ;  but  in  the  Tiber  she  had  found 
a  new  and  terrible  baptism — the  baptism  of  crime.  Without  love 
she  had  consented  to  become  Podstadsky's  mistress,  and  so  became 
the  partner  of  his  guilt.  Together  they  had  planned  their  bold 
schemes  Of  fraud,  and,  oh,  how  successful  they  had  been  until  this 
last  misfortune !  At  all  events,  her  connection  with  Podstadsky  was 
at  an  end.  The  pillory  had  liberated  her,  and  now — now  slie  would 
lead  a  blameless  life.  No  more  fraud — no  more  theft.  Crime  was 
too  dangerous  ;  she  saw  that  it  must  inexorably  lead  to  shame.  She 
would  be  satisfied  with  what  she  had,  and  become  a  virtuous  woman. 
She  was  quite  rich  enough  to  be  good,  and  it  would  be  such  bliss  to 
live  without  a  guilty  secret ! 

She  laughed,  and  then  shivered  at  the  sound  of  her  own  voice, 
and  a  supernatural  terror  took  such  violent  hold  of  her  imagination, 
that  she  could  no  longer  bear  the  darkness.  She  must  see,  or  she 
would  die  of  fear.  Giuseppe  had  provided  her  with  a  dark  lantern, 
a  vial  of  phosphorus,  and  some  matches. 

"  How  delightful  it  is  to  have  this  new  invention  !"  thought  she, 
as,  touching  the  phosphorus,  she  struck  a  light.  With  this  light  she 
felt  a  little  reassured,  but  could  she  have  seen  her  blanched,  terror- 
stricken  face,  she  would  have  screamed,  and  fancied  it  a  spectre  ! 

Hush!  Was  there  a  muffled  sound  behind  her?  She  paused  and 
listened,  her  eyes  glaring  as  though  they  would  start  from  their 
sockets.  Pshaw  !  it  was  only  the  rustling  of  her  own  silk  mantle  as 
it  went  trailing  up  the  marble  staircase.  Nothing  in  human  shape 
was  there,  save  two  pale  statues,  which  stood  like  dead  sentinels  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs.     As  she  passed  them  she  shuddered,  and 

40 


G16  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

almost  fancied  that  they  had  stepped  from  their  pedestals  to  follow 
her.  Giving  one  quick  glance  behind,  she  sped  like  a  hunted  doe 
through  those  halls,  of  which  so  lately  she  had  been  the  pride,  and 
arrived  breathless  at  the  door  of  her  boudoir.  She  darted  in,  and 
there,  safe  in  its  place,  was  the  picture. 

This  gave  her  courage.  But  she  must  have  rest  after  her  fearful 
pilgrimage  through  that  dark,  em])ty  house.  She  sank  upon  her 
satin  lounge,  and  abandoned  herself  to  the  joy  and  security  of  the 
hour.  She  had  just  come  to  the  end  of  a  perilous  journey.  Night 
and  danger  were  behind,  the  rosy  morning  of  safety  was  about  to 
dawn.  She  was  so  full  of  joyous  emotion,  that  scarcely  knowing 
what  she  did,  her  lips  began  to  move  in  unconscious  prayer  ! 

Prayer  !  She  had  no  right  to  such  a  privilege  as  that ;  and  start- 
ing from  her  seat,  lest  she  should  falter  in  the  purpose  of  her  visit, 
she  quickly  removed  the  picture,  touched  the  spring,  and  the  precious 
coffer  stood  revealed. 

No,  no,  she  could  never  give  it  up  !  She  stretched  out  her  arms, 
and  jiressed  it  to  her  heart,  as  a  mother  does  her  only  child.  Trem- 
bling with  eager  joy,  she  placed  it  on  the  table,  and  oiiening  it,  con- 
templated her  treasures  on  their  beds  of  crimson  velvet. 

How  they  sparkled  !  How  they  seemed  to  burn  with  splendor  as 
the  rays  of  the  little  lantern  coquetted  with  their  beauty  !  She  was 
repaid  for  all  her  terrors,  she  was  happy  and  secure  ! 

"  Whom  the  gods  would  destroy,  they  first  blind. " 

She  was  so  absorbed  in  the  magnificence  of  her  diamond  necklace 
for  which  she  had  been  indebted  to  the  Princess  Garampi,  that  she 
did  not  hear  the  footfall  of  the  men  who  were  close  behind  her. 
They  smiled,  and  pantomimed  one  to  another  as  they  watched  her 
toying  with  her  flashing  jewels. 

Then  suddenly  springing  forward,  as  if  they  feared  she  might 
escape  through  the  secret  opening  in  the  wall,  they  grasped  her  with 
their  powerful  hands,  and  she  was  once  more  a  prisoner. 

"The  emperor  can  no  longer  defend  his  beautiful  countess,"  said 
the  one  who  seemed  to  direct  the  others.  "We  have  caught  her  in 
.  the  act  of  robbing  Count  Podstadsky's  creditors.  And,  unless  I  am 
mistaken,  we  shall  iind  among  her  booty  all  the  jewels  that  were 
missing  at  last  winter's  entertainments  ;  for,  as  I  had  the  lionor  of 
reminding  his  majesty,  the  Countess  Baillou  was  at  every  ball  wliere 
jewels  were  lost.  I  told  the  emperor  that  if  he  would  give  you  free- 
dom, I  engaged  to  find  sometliing  more  than  a  mare's  nest  when  I 
tracked  you  hither.  I  was  sure  you  would  come,  and  my  spies  have 
been  within,  waiting  for  you  since  this  morning. " 

"What  reward  was  promised  by  the  emperor  for  my  detection?" 
said  Arabella,  now  self-possessed. 

"Five  hundred  ducats,"  was  the  reply. 

"Five  hundred  ducats'?"  repeated  she,  tossing  back  her  beautiful 
head.  "  A  beggarly  reward  for  the  person  of  a  lady  of  rank  like  me  ! 
Take  this  necklace,  and  divide  it  between  you.  Each  one  will  then 
have  more  than  the  frugal  emperor  has  promised  to  all.  Take 
it  and  give  me  my  freedom.  Your  generous  act  will  never  be 
known. " 

"How,  lady!  You  would  bribe  us,  as  you  have  bribed  so  many 
noble  cavaliers?  No,  no.  Your  game  is  at  an  end,  and  if  ever  you 
appear  in  ]Miblic  again,  it  will  b(>  as  a  criminal.  You  must  come 
with  me.     You,  men,  take  up  this  coffer. " 


HORJA  AND  THE  REBELLION  IN  HUNGARY.         617 

She  strove  no  longer.  Without  another  word  she  took  the  arm  of 
the  police-officer,  and  went  firmly  forward. 

Her  lips  moved,  and  she  murmured  :  "  Alas  he  is  right.  My 
career  is  at  an  end. "  * 


CHAPTER    CLXIII. 

HORJA  AND  THE   REBELLION  IN  HUNGARY. 

Four  years  had  gone  by  since  Joseph  had  reigned  sole  monarch  of 
Austria.  For  four  years  he  had  devoted  himself  to  the  Austrians, 
having  but  one  object,  that  of  making  them  a  free,  enlightened,  and 
happv  people,  emancipating  them  from  the  influence  of  the  church, 
and  breaking  the  fetters  of  serfdom  ,  granting  them  eciuality  before 
the  law,  and  enriching  them  by  his  encouragement  of  manufactures 
and  the  privileges  he  accorded  to  merchants. 

What  was  his  reward  ?  Dissatisfaction  and  opposition  from  every 
class  of  society  ;  ingratitude  and  ill-will  from  all  parties. 

Tlie  nobles  disliked  him  because  he  had  sought  every  opportunity 
of  humbling  them  before  the  people  ;  the  clergy  opposed  him,  be- 
cause of  his  secpiestration  of  church  property,  and  his  assumption  of 
spiritual  authority.  But  liis  bitterest  enemies  were  the  bureaucratic. 
He  had  invaded  all  their  customs,  discharging  every  man  who  had 
not  studied  at  the  university,  and  requiring  constant  labor  from  the 
first  as  well  as  the  last  of  the  employes.  He  was  the  terror  of  all 
aspirants  for  civil  office,  and  the  whole  body  hated  him,  embar- 
rassed his  steps,  and  ruined  his  plans  by  voluntaiy  misconception  of 
all  his  orders. 

As  yet,  there  was  no  outburst  of  dissatisfaction.  The  discontent 
was  latent,  and  Joseph  still  indulged  the  hope  of  outliving  oppo- 
sition, and  ijroving  to  his  subjects  that  all  the  innovations  which 
they  had  so  ungratefully  endured  were  for  the  ultimate  good  of  the 
Austrian  nation. 

He  was  therefore  ill-prepared  for  the  news  which  reached  him 
from  Hungary.  He  had  freed  the  people  from  slavery  and  taxation, 
and  had  exacted  that  the  nobles  should  pay  their  share  of  the  im- 
perial taxes.  He  had  instituted  a  general  conscription,  and  the 
most  powerful  Magyar  in  Hungary  was  bound  to  serve,  side  by  side, 
with  the  lowest  peasant.  Finally  he  had  forbidden  the  use  of  any 
other  language  in  Hungary  save  the  German. 

A  cry  of  indignation  was  heard  from  every  turreted  castle  in  the 
land.  The}'  were  wounded  in  the  rights  hitherto  guaranteed  to  them 
by  every  emperor  of  Austria.  And  above  all  other  oppression,  they 
were  to  be  robbed  of  their  mother  tongue,  that  they  might  lose  their 
nationality,  and  become  a  poor  Austrian  dependency,  f 

But  Joseph's  enactments  were  detested  not  only  by  the  nobles, 
they  were  equally  unwelcome  to  the  people.     The  latter  were  horror- 

*This  beautiful  woman,  "the  ornament  of  the  most  elegant  circles  in  Vienna," 
as  she  is  called  by  the  chroniclers  of  the  times,  was  condemned  to  three  days  of 
pillory,  the  same  punishment  as  that  suffered  by  the  victim  of  her  wickedness  and 
coquetry.  She  was  then  sent  guarded  to  the  confines  of  Austria,  from  whence  she 
was  banished  for  life.— See  Hubner,  ii.,  392.     Gross-Hofflnger,  iii. 

t  That  was  precisely  Joseph's  object;  and  yet  he  wondered  that  this  people  did 
not  love  him. 


618  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

stricken  by  the  general  conscription,  and  fled  by  thousands  to  take 
refuge  among  the  mountains  from  the  conscribing  officers. 

One  of  their  own  class,  however,  succeeded  in  drawing  them 
from  their  hiding-places.  The  loud  voice  of  Horja  rang  throughout 
every  valley,  and  ascended  to  every  mountain-summit.  He  called 
them  to  liberty  and  equality.  He  asserted  that  nobility  was  to  be 
destroyed  in  Hungary.  There  were  to  be  no  more  castles,  no  more 
magnates  of  the  land.  The  emperor  had  promised  as  much  in 
Vienna.  He  had  sworn  to  free  the  Hungarian  peasantry,  and  to 
bring  the  proud  noble  down  to  an  equality  with  his  serf. 

The  hour  for  fulfilment  had  arrived.  All  the  new  laws  regarded 
the  nobles  alone,  they  had  no  reference  to  the  peasantry  whom  the 
emperor  had  promised  to  make  free,  happy,  and  rich.  He  needed 
the  help  of  his  Hungarians.  They  must  complete  what  he  had  begun. 
The  peasant  was  to  be  free,  happy,  rich. 

This  was  the  magic  song  which  attracted  the  boor  from  his  thatch 
under  the  hill,  and  the  goat-herd  from  his  hut  amid  the  mountain- 
peaks. 

Horja  was  the  Arion  who  sang — and  now  to  his  standard  flocked 
thousands  of  deluded  beings,  all  eager  to  complete  the  work  which 
the  empei'or  had  begun.  Joseph  had  made  them  free — it  remained 
for  themselves  to  plunder  the  nobles,  and  appropriate  their  long- 
hoarded  wealth.  It  was  the  emperor's  will.  He  hated  the  Magyars, 
and  loved  the  peasantry. 

If  ever  any  of  those  poor,  ignorant  wretches  held  back,  Horja 
showed  them  a  massive  gold  chain  to  which  the  emperor's  portrait 
was  attached.  This  had  been  sent  to  him  by  Joseph  himself,  and  in 
proof  thereof  he  had  a  parchment  full  of  gilt  letters,  with  a  great 
seal  attached  to  it,  which  made  him  Captain-General  of  Hungary. 
They  could  all  come  and  read  the  emperor's  own  writing  if  they 
chose. 

Poor  fellows  !  None  of  them  knew  how  to  read,  so  that  Krischan, 
a  friend  of  Horja  and  a  priest  of  the  Greek  Church,  read  it  for  all 
who  doubted. 

This  brought  conviction  to  the  most  skeptical.  That  a  Greek 
priest  could  read  a  lie,  never  once  entered  the  heads  of  these  simple 
children  of  nature. 

Now  commenced  the  carnage.  The  nobles  were  imprisoned  and 
murdered,  their  castles  burned,  and  their  fields  laid  waste.  The 
aristocracy  of  the  borders,  whose  territorial  domains  the  insurgents 
had  not  yet  reached,  armed  themselves,  and  having  captured  some 
of  the  rebels,  put  them  to  death  under  circumstances  of  exaggerated 
cruelty,  executing  them  by  the  power  which  the  Magyar  possessed 
of  administering  justice  as  an  independent  prince. 

These  executions,  unsanctioned  by  the  emperor,  raised  the  indig- 
nation of  the  people  to  ungovernable  fur}'-,  and  they  now  demanded 
the  entire  extinction  of  the  nobles.  They  were  summoned  to  resign 
tlieir  titles,  and,  until  the  coronation  of  Joseph,  tlie  rightful  King  of 
Hungary,  they  were  to  obey  their  lawfvil  ruler,  Horja. 

The  nobles,  not  having  condescended  to  take  any  notice  of  Horja's 
summons,  the  people  began  to  pillage  and  murder  witli  redoubled 
fury.  They  spared  every  thing,  however,  belonging  to  the  emperor 
— the  only  nobleman  who,  for  the  future,  was  to  be  suffered  to  own 
land  in  Hungary. 

Joseph  could  no  longer  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  remonstrances  of  the 


THE  JEW'S  REVENGE.  619 

Magyars.  He  had  hoped  to  be  able  to  quell  the  rebellion  by  lenity, 
offering  a  general  amnesty  to  all  offenders  witli  the  exception  of 
Horja,  for  whose  capture  a  reward  of  three  hundred  ducats  was 
offered. 

But  the  poor,  deluded  peasantry,  having  faith  in  no  one  but 
Horja,  thought  that  the  offer  of  pardon  was  nothing  but  an  artifice 
of  the  enemy.  The  emperor,  then,  was  obliged  to  marcli  the  im- 
perial troops  against  the  people,  and  to  bring  about  with  musket  and 
cannon  what  he  had  hoped  to  accomplish  through  moral  suasion. 

Horja,  finding  that  he  had  nothing  more  to  hope  from  the  clem- 
ency of  the  emperor,  tried  to  induce  tlie  disaffected  nobles  to  accept 
his  peasantry,  and  rebel  against  Joseph.  But  they  rejected  the  offer 
witli  disdain,  and  gave  their  support  to  the  imperial  troops. 

Thousands  delivered  themselves  up,  imploring  mercy,  which  was 
granted  them.  Thousands  fled  to  the  mountains,  and  thousands 
were  taken  prisoners.  Among  these  latter  were  Horja  and  Krischan. 
Both  were  condemned  to  death.  Horja  j^leaded  hard  to  be  allowed 
to  see  the  emperor,  alleging  that  he  had  something  of  importance  to 
communicate  to  him,  but  his  prayer  was  not  granted. 

Perhaps  Joseph  suspected  that  Horja  would  prove  to  him,  what 
he  already  dreaded  to  know,  namely,  that  the  nobles  had  connived  at 
this  insurrection  of  the  peasantry  to  frighten  him  with  the  conse- 
quences of  his  own  acts. 

Horja  was  not  permitted,  then,  to  see  his  sovereign.  He  was 
broken  on  a  wheel  on  the  market-place  at  Carlsburg,  and  two  thou- 
sand of  the  captured  insurgents  were  forced  to  witness  the  cruel 
spectacle.* 

Thus  ended  this  fearful  outbreak,  by  which  four  thousand  men 
perished,  sixty-two  villages  and  thirtj'-two  castles  were  consumed  ; 
and  the  deluded  peasantry,  instead  of  freedom,  happiness,  and 
wealth,  found  threefold  oppression  at  the  hands  of  their  masters. 

The  magnates  and  nobles,  meanwhile,  stood  upon  the  ruins  of 
their  castles,  and  cried  out : 

"Tliis  is  the  work  of  Joseph  !  These  are  the  fruits  of  his  insen- 
sate reforms !"  f 


CHAPTER    CLXIV. 

THE     JEW'S     REVENGE. 

The  emperor  paced  his  cabinet  in  unusual  agitation.  Contrary 
to  his  daily  habits,  the  Controlorgang  was  closed,  and  his  secretaries 
had  been  ordered  to  remain  in  the  chancery,  and  do  their  writing 
tliei'e. 

The  emperor  had  been  weeping  ;  and  he  wished  his  anguish  to  be 
liidden  from  any  eye  save  that  of  God. 

A  great  sorrow  had  befallen  him.  Gtinther,  his  indefatigable 
co-laborer,  the  trustiest  of  counsellors,  the  man  whom,  next  to  Lacy 
and  Rosenberg,  he  loved  best  on  earth — Giinther  had  betrayed  him  ! 
He  had  sold  a  secret  of  state  for  gold  ! 

Tliere,  before  him  on  the  table,  lay  the  reports  of  the  secret 
jjolice,  whose  duty  it  was  to  open  all  letters  passing  through  the 

*  On  the  3d  of  January,  1785. 

tHubuer,  i.,  p.  273.     Gross-Hoffinger,  iii.,  p.  135.    Ramshorn,  p.  138. 


620  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

post,  and  to  present  such  as  looked  suspicious.*  Among  these  letters 
was  one  which  strongly  inculpated  Giinther.  It  was  written  by 
Baron  Eskeles  Flies  to  a  commercial  friend  in  Amsterdam.  It  stated 
that  he  (Eskeles  Flies)  had  just  received  a  communication  of  such 
vital  importance  that  it  was  worth  much  more  to  him  than  the  thou- 
sand ducats  he  had  paid  to  his  informer.  The  emperor,  tired  of  his 
contention  with  Holland  regarding  the  navigation  of  the  Scheldt, 
had  agreed  to  accept  the  ten  millions  offered  by  Holland  in  return  for 
his  guaranty  that  she  should  still  preserve  her  right  to  demand  toll 
of  all  ships  passing  through  that  portion  of  the  river  which  was 
within  the  Dutch  boundaries,  f 

Eskeles  Flies  besought  his  Amsterdam  correspondent  to  procure 
him  this  loan,  which  he  was  ready  to  advance  to  the  republic  in  four 
instalments.  He  bound  his  friend  to  strict  secrecy,  for  the  infor- 
mation he  imparted  was  not  to  be  made  public  for  twenty-four 
hours,  and  the  possession  of  this  secret  gave  them  signal  advantage 
over  all  other  bankers. 

Now  Giinther  alone  had  been  intrusted  by  the  emperor  with  this 
secret  of  state.  With  the  exception  of  Prince  Kaunitz,  not  another 
man  in  Austria  knew  that  Joseph  intended  to  accept  the  proffered 
indemnity. 

It  was  clear,  then,  that  Giinther  was  the  traitor,  and  yet  his  im- 
perial master  would  not  believe.  He  clung  to  the  hope  that  some- 
thing might  yet  occur  to  exculpate  his  favorite,  though  how  or 
whence  exoneration  was  to  come,  he  could  not  conceive. 

The  banker  had  been  summoned,  and  the  emperor  awaited  his 
coming.  In  the  impatience  of  his  heart  he  had  sent  a  courier,  and 
after  the  courier  his  own  carriage,  for  he  could  not  endure  his  sus- 
pense one  moment  longer  than  was  imavoidable. 

Often  as  he  paced  the  room,  his  heart  throbbing  violently,  he 
paused  to  listen,  and  then  glanced  again  and  again  at  the  clock  to 
see  if  the  banker  could  be  nigh. 

"  If  it  be  true, "  thought  he,  resuming  his  agitated  walk,  "  I  never 
shall  trust  man  again.  I  believed  that  Giinther' s  heart  was  as  noble 
as  his  face.  Is  it  possible  that  such  a  countenance  should  lie? 
Giinther,  the  generous,  disinterested  Giinther — can  it  be  that  he  has 
sold  my  secrets?  I  cannot,  will  not  believe  it.  I  must  see  himself, 
and  hear  his  defence  from  his  own  lips." 

Hurried  along  by  this  magnanimous  impulse,  the  emperor  ap- 
proached the  door.     But  he  pausetl,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  no.  Conviction  must  come  from  testimony,  not  from  asser- 
tion. Men  are  all  actors,  and  often  have  I  seen  how  skilfully  thej^ 
wear  the  mask  of  innocence.  I  have  been  too  often  deceived.  Ah  ! 
there  at  last  is  the  banker. " 

Yes,  it  was  he.     The  page  flung  open  the  door,  and  announced  : 

"  Baron  von  Eskeles  Flies. " 

Tlie  baron  entered  the  room.     He  had  grown  old  since  Rachel's 

»  "The  Emperor  Franz  and  Mettornich :  a  Fragment.  "  (From  Hormayer,  p.  79. ) 
+  .Joseph  had  claimed  from  Holland  the  right  to  navigate  the  Scheldt  and  the 
canals  d>ig  by  the  Dutch,  free  of  toll.  These  latter  refused,  and  the  emperor  forth- 
with marched  his  troops  into  Holland.  He  had  expected  to  be  sustained  by  the  other 
maritime  powers  of  Europe,  but  they  protecting  tne  Dutch.  Joseph  was  oliliged  to 
withdraw  his  troops.  But  he  claimed  an  indemnity  for  the  expenses  incurred  by 
putting  his  regiments  ujjon  a  war-footing,  and  demanded  twenty  millions.  He  then 
agreed  to  take  fifteen,  but  was  finally  obliged  to  be  content  with  ten,  which  was  all 
that  the  Dutch  would  allow  him.  Whereupon  Frederick  the  (Jreat  said  th.it  Josepli 
had  cried  out  for  agreat  sum,  but  had  been  obliged  to  come  down  toa  "jxmr  6o//-«." 


THE  JEW'S  REVENGE.  621 

flight.  Scarcely  a  year  had  elapsed  since  then  ;  but  in  that  year  her 
father's  raven  locks  had  become  white  as  snow,  and  the  stalwart 
man  of  fifty  had  grown  old  and  feeble. 

The  emperor  came  forward,  and  extended  his  hand. 

"  Look  at  me,  Eskeles, "  said  he,  in  his  quick,  eager  way  ;  "  do  not 
bow  so  ceremoniously,  we  have  no  time  to  waste  on  formalities. 
Look  at  me,  and  let  me  see  whether  you  are  an  honest  man  scorning 
falsehood,  even  though  it  might  shield  a  fellow-creature  from  harm. " 

The  banker  looked  the  emperor  full  in  the  face,  and  bore  the 
scrutiny  of  his  searching  eyes  without  wincing. 

"  I  see  that  you  can  look  me  in  the  face, "  said  Joseph.  "  You  will 
speak  the  truth. " 

"  The  Jew  is  forbidden  by  his  religious  code  to  lie, "  was  the 
reply. 

Joseph  crossed  the  room  quickly,  and  taking  a  letter  from  his 
escritoire,  gave  it  to  tlae  banker. 

"Is  this  yoiu-  writing?" 

Eskeles  lifted  his  eyes  slowly  to  the  paper,  and  seemed  surprised. 

"Yes,  that  is  my  writing.  I  posted  this  letter  yesterday.  How, 
then,  do  I  find  it  here?  Its  detention  is  a  serious  inconvenience  to 
me. " 

He  said  this  with  tlie  demeanor  of  a  merchant  whose  mind  is 
upon  his  business,  and  who  has  no  idea  that  it  can  concern  any 
other  person. 

"  The  letter  was  sent  to  me  by  the  secret  police, "  said  the  emperor. 

The  banker  looked  up  in  astonishment.  "Ah!"  exclaimed  he, 
"then  the  tales  which  are  told  of  the  opening  of  all  our  letters  by 
detectives,  are  not  fables  !" 

"No — they  are  not  fables,  and  I  am  justified  in  the  scrutiny. 
Men  are  so  corrupt  that  our  only  defence  against  treachery  is 
esjnonage.  It  is  a  pity  that  it  should  be  so  ;  but  as  long  as  the  people 
are  base,  their  sovereigns  must  stop  short  of  no  means  to  foil  them. " 

"  But  I  have  never  sinned  against  your  majesty.  Why,  then,  is 
my  letter  open  to  suspicion?" 

"  Every  man  is  suspected  by  the  secret  police,  "  replied  Joseph, 
witli  a  shrug.  "  For  that  reason  they  had  orders  to  stop  every  letter 
addressed  to  Holland.  The  precaution  had  been  made  imperative 
by  our  misunderstandings  with  that  country.  And  you  see  yourself 
that  your  letter  betraj^s  a  secret  of  state. " 

"  Betrays  !"  repeated  the  banker.  "  We  betray  that  which  we  are 
expected  to  bury  within  the  recesses  of  our  own  heart.  But  this 
news  was  to  go  out  into  tlie  world,  and  was  a  subject  for  i)ercentage. 
I  should  have  made  at  least  half  a  million  had  my  letter  not  been 
unluckily  detained  by  your  majesty." 

"  I  shall  not  prevent  you  from  earning  your  pei'centage, "  replied 
Joseph,  scornfully.  "Your  letter  shall  go  to-day,  and  my  dispatches 
shall  be  detained  until  to-morrow.  In  that  way  you  can  still  make 
your  half  million. " 

The  banker  bowed.  "  I  thank  your  majesty  for  your  exceeding 
condescension, "  said  he. 

"  I  will  do  you  this  favor,  but  you  must  do  me  a  service  in  return. " 

"  It  is  not  necessary  for  your  majesty  to  concede  me  the  right  to 
earn  half  a  million,  to  buy  my  services,"  said  Eskeles,  with  a  slight 
shade  of  reproach.  "I  hope  that  I  have  always  been  ready  to  serve 
your  majesty,  even  when  no  percentage  was  to  be  gained  thereby, " 


622  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"And  I  have  recognized  it,  Baron  Eskeles  Flies.  But  I  do  not 
speak  of  pecuniary  services  to-day.  I  ask  a  favor  of  another  natin-e. 
Tell  me,  then,  without  reserve,  who  is  the  man  that  receives  a 
thousand  ducats  for  revealing  a  secret  of  state  to  you. " 

The  banker  started  as  if  he  had  received  a  shot,  and  glanced  in- 
quiringly at  the  emperor.     "Was  that  in  the  letter?"  asked  he. 

Joseph  gave  it  into  his  hands.  Eskeles  perused  it  eagerly,  and 
then,  murmured  in  a  voice  of  exceeding  contrition,  "  Ay,  it  is  there. 
I  was  indiscreet. "  Then,  as  if  overcome  by  his  fault,  his  head  sank 
upon  his  breast. 

"  I  await  your  answer, "  said  the  emperor.  "  Who  betrayed  me  to 
you  for  a  thousand  ducats  ?" 

The  banker  raised  his  head  as  if  making  a  difficult  resolve. 
"  Your  majesty,  that  was  an  idle  boast  of  mine  to  enhance  the  value 
of  my  news. " 

"  Mere  evasion,  baron  !"  replied  Joseph,  angrily.  "  Even  if  you 
had  not  written  the  words  in  that  letter,  I  shovdd  still  ask  of  you, 
who  it  is  that  betrays  my  secrets?" 

"  No  one,  sire, "  replied  Eskeles,  imeasily.  "  I  guessed  it.  Yes, 
yes, " — continued  he,  as  though  a  happy  idea  had  just  struck  him — 
"  that  is  it — I  guessed.  Every  one  knows  of  your  majesty's  difficulty 
with  Holland,  and  I  might  well  guess  that  you  would  be  glad  to  end 
this  strife  by  accepting  the  ten  millions,  and  so  save  your  subjects 
from  the  horrors  of  war. " 

"  You  are  not  the  trvxthful  man  I  had  supposed.  There  is  no  logic 
iu  j^our  lies.  Baron  Eskeles.  You  might  guess  that  I  would  accept 
the  ten  millions,  but  as  you  are  not  omniscient,  you  could  not  say 
positively  that  I  had  written  my  dispatches  yesterday,  and  would 
sign  them  to-day.  Your  inventions  are  clumsy,  baron,  and  I  must 
say  that  they  do  you  honor  ;  for  they  prove  that  you  have  little  ex- 
perience in  the  art  of  lying.  But  the  truth  I  must  have,  and  as  your 
lord  and  emperor,  I  command  you  to  speak.  For  the  third  time, 
who  betrayed  my  secrets  to  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  sire,  I  swore  not  to  betray  him, "  said  Eskeles,  in  a  faltering 
voice. 

"I  absolve  you  from  the  oath." 

"But  the  God  of  Israel  cannot  absolve  me.  I  cannot  speak  the 
name  of  the  man,  but — your  majesty  can  guess  it. " 

He  was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  then  raising  his  head,  the  em- 
peror saw  that  his  face  had  become  deadly  pale.  In  a  low,  xxnsteady 
voice  he  continued :  "  Your  majesty  knows  that  I  once  had  a 
daughter. " 

"Had?    You  have  a  daughter,  baron." 

"  She  is  dead  to  me, "  murmured  Eskeles  so  inaudibly  that  the 
emperor  scarcely  heard  him.  "She  left  me  a  year  ago  for  a  man 
whom  she  loved  better  than  her  father. " 

"But  slie  left  because  you  would  have  married  her  to  a  man 
whom  she  hated.     GUnther  told  me  so. " 

"Yes,  sire.  I  had  no  idea  that  my  unhappy  child  would  go  to 
such  extremity.  Had  she  entreated  me  as  she  should  have  done,  I 
would  have  yielded  ;  but  her  lover  had  hardened  her  heart  against 
me,  and  she  abandoned  me — not  to  become  the  honorable  wife  of  any 
man,  but  to  lead  a  life  of  shame  and  reproach.  Rachel  is  not  mar- 
ried, she  is  the  mistress  of  that  man." 

"This,  too,  is  your  fault,  baron.     You  made  her  swear  never  to 


THE  JEWS  REVENGE.  623 

become  a  Christian,  and  by  our  laws  she  could  not  marry  him.  But 
he  considers  her  as  his  wife.  You  see  that  I  know  all.  Giinther,  to 
justify  himself,  confided  to  me  the  whole  history  of  his  love." 

"  He  did  not  tell  the  truth,  sire.  My  daughter  herself  is  unwill- 
ing to  become  a  Christian. " 

"Then  she  is  a  conscientious  Jewess?" 

"No,  sire,  she  does  not  attend  the  synagogue." 

"What  is  she,  then?"  asked  the  emperor,  astonished. 

"  She  is  a  Deist ;  and  precisely  because  I  required  of  her  to  profess 
either  Judaism  or  Christianity,  she  fled  to  that  man  whom  she  can- 
not be  made  to  believe  is  the  suitor  of  her  wealth  and  not  of  herself. " 

"Do  you  think,  then,  that  Giinther  i°  interested?" 

"I  know  it,  sire.  He  offered  for  a  hundred  thousand  florins  to 
renounce  Rachel  and  deliver  her  up  to  me.  Here  is  his  letter  ;  your 
majesty  can  see  it. " 

The  emperor  took  the  letter,  and  read  it.  "It  is  his  writing," 
murmured  he,  sorrowfvilly  ;  "  it  is  too  true.  " 

"I  refused,"  continued  Eskeles.  "I  would  not  buy  my  daughter 
back.     I  therefore  waited  to  see  what  would  follow." 

"What  followed?" 

The  banker  was  silent  for  a  moment ;  then  sigliing,  he  said,  in 
low,  trembling  tones.  "Not  long  after,  I  received  another  letter. 
He  said  he  was  straitened  in  means,  that  Rachel  was  pampered,  and 
required  so  many  luxuries  that  she  had  exhausted  his  purse.  As  I 
would  not  listen  to  his  first  proposition,  he  had  another  to  make.  I 
would  give  him  a  certain  sum,  and  he  would  do  me  a  substantial 
service. " 

"  He  offered  a  thousand  ducats,  did  he  not?" 

"I  do  not  remember.  The  sum  is  stated  in  the  letter.  Here  it 
is,  your  majestJ^  "  And  with  these  words  Eskeles  drew  a  paper  from 
his  bosom. 

"It  is,  it  is,"  said  the  emperor,  in  a  voice  of  anguish.  "I  can 
no  longer  doubt  his  treachery." 

Eskeles  Flies  returned  the  paper  to  his  bosom.  "I  keep  this  on 
my  person,  "said  he,  "  because  Avhen  Rachel  returns  to  me,  it  will 
cure  her  of  her  love  for  such  a  villain. " 

"  Giinther,  then,  received  the  money?  "  said  Joseph, 

"  He  did,  sire." 

"  Then  j'ou  no  longer  deny  that  he  was  the  Judas." 

"  Your  majesty  can  remember  which  of  your  secretaries  was 
charged  with  the  copying  of  your  dispatches." 

The  emperor  sighed.  "  I  know,  I  know,"  murmured  he;  "  and 
yet  it  pains  me  so  to  believe  it,  for  I  have  loved  him  sincerely." 

"  And  I  have  loved  my  daughter,"  returned  Eskeles.  "  This 
man  stole  her  from  me,  and  has  converted  my  child  into  a  Deist." 

"  She  shall  be  returned  to  you,  and  Giinther  shall  receive  the 
punishment  of  his  crimes,"  cried  Joseph,  in  a  loud  and  angry 
voice.  "  No  mercy  for  Inm!  I  shall  know  how  to  act  as  becomes  a 
wrong'ed  and  outraged  sovereign." 

"  But  that  will  not  restore  my  child/'  said  Eskeles,  disconso- 
lately. "  What  good  is  it  to  me  that  this  wretch  is  to  suffer?  It 
will  not  bring  back  Rachel.  And  even  if  she  should  be  forced  to 
seek  my  protection,  what  comfort  can  I  derive  from  one  who  is 
a  Deist — a  creature  who  mocks  at  religion  ?  " 

"  She  will  be  obliged  to  become  one  thing  or  the  other,  if  she 


624  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

would  shield  herself  from  the  fearful  consequences  of  her  skepti- 
cism." 

"That  is  it,"  cried  Eskeles,  joyfully.  "Your  Liajesty  has  found 
the  remedy.  Rachel  must  be  threatened  with  the  disgrace  of  legal 
jiunishment,  and  then  she  will  repent,  and  return  to  her  father. 
Sire,  I  accuse  her  of  Deism.  I  exact  that  she  be  brought  to 
judgment. " 

"  To  judgment  I"  exclaimed  the  emperor.  "  Do  you  know  the 
punishment  for  her  offence?" 

"Fifty  lashes  on  the  offender's  back!  But  fear  will  save  her. 
My  Rachel  will  never  dare  avow  herself  a  Deist. " 

"  Perhaps  not ,  but  I,  as  a  Christian,  cannot  allow  you  to  force 
her  back  to  Judaism." 

"  Then  try  to  make  a  Christian  of  her,  sire  Oh,  I  beseech  you, 
lend  yourself  to  my  paternal  stratagem  for  her  restoration  to  honor ! 
Act  upon  my  accusation  ;  have  her  imprisoned  in  her  home  ;  and 
for  four  weeks,  let  a  priest  visit  her  daily  to  instruct  her  in  your 
majesty's  faith.  Then  let  her  decide  whether  she  will  become  a 
Christian  or  remain  a  Jewess. " 

"  Bethink  you  that  if  she  should  prove  contumacious,  I  cannot 
rescue  her  from  punishment  If  you  persist  in  your  accusation,  re- 
member that  the  law  mvist  take  its  course. " 

"I  persist,  and  demand  investigation." 

"  It  shall  be  granted  you.  And  now  here  is  your  letter.  Post  it 
to-day,  and  it  will  still  be  twenl.  -four  hours  in  advance  of  mine. 
We  must  both  perform  our  duty,  you  as  a  merchant,  I  as  a  sover- 
eign ;  and,  believe  me,  you  shall  have  revenge  for  the  wrongs 
inflicted  upon  you  by  the  double  traitor  who  has  betrayed  his  em- 
peror and  his  mistress !" 

"  I  care  nothing  for  hio  punishment, "  repeated  Eskeles,  w^earily  ; 
"all  that  I  ask  is  my  daughter." 

The  emperor  gave  his  hand,  and  the  banker,  pressing  it  to  his 
lips,  backed  out  of  the  cabinet.  Joseph  looked  after  him  with  sym- 
pathizing eyes.  "Poor  man!  Grief  has  made  him  Id.  Sorrow 
lengthens  days  to  years,  and  wrinkles  many  a  brow  wh  cli  time  has 
never  touched. " 

But  without.  Baron  Eskelies  Flies  had  changed  his  mien.  No 
longer  bowed  down  with  grief,  he  stood  triumphantly  reviewing  the 
success  of  his  strategy. 

"I  am  revenged!"  thought  he.  "Short-sighted  emperor,  you  do 
not  dream  that  you  arc  the  tool  wherewith  the  Jew  has  wreaked  his 
vengeance  upon  the  Christian !  Go  on,  and  ruin  your  faithful 
friend  !  Go  on,  hot-headed  judge  ;  punish  the  man  who  loves  you, 
without  giving  him  a  hearing  ;  and  imagine  yourself  to  be  adminis- 
tering justice,  while  you  inflict  the  grossest  injustice.  It  is  so 
Christian-like.  Follow  the  instincts  of  your  love  and  hate,  your 
passion  or  your  pleasures,  ye  children  of  the  moment,  while  the  cal- 
culating Jew  plays  upon  your  credulity  ! — And  now,  God  of  my 
fathers,  let  the  Christian  priest  but  irritate  my  child  with  his  impor- 
tunities, and  she  will  seek  refuge  from  his  persecutions  in  the  syna- 
gogue !" 


THE  FAVOR  OF  PRINCES.  625 

CHAPTER    CLXV. 

THE     FAVOR     OF     PRINCES. 

The  emperor  thrust  open  the  door  which  led  from  his  cabinet  to 
the  chancery.  There  at  the  long,  green  table,  immersed  in  their 
business,  sat  the  four  imperial  secretaries  ;  and  next  to  the  arm- 
chair, which  was  surmounted  by  the  Austrian  crown,  sat  the  un- 
conscious Glinther.  Had  Giiuther  seen  tlie  look  with  wliich  Joseph 
regarded  him  as  he  sat  quietly  writing,  his  heart  would  have  grown 
chill  with  apprehension.  But  not  an  eye  there  was  raised.  One  of 
the  emperor's  most  stringent  orders  forbade  the  secretaries,  when  in 
the  chancery,  to  raise  their  heads  on  any  account.  They  were  to 
take  no  note  of  the  entrance  of  Joseph  himself ;  they  were  co- 
workers, and  no  time  was  to  be  wasted  in  ceremonial. 

Joseph  seated  himself  in  silence,  and  taking  up  a  pen,  wrote  a 
few  hasty  lines  upon  a  sheet  of  paper.  He  then  rang,  and  delivered 
the  paper  to  a  page. 

"Take  this  to  the  colonel  commanding  the  recruits, "  said  he,  and 
his  voice  trembled  as  he  spoke  these  few  words.  There  was  a  long 
silence  ;  the  secretaries  continued  to  write,  and  Giinther,  always 
obedient  to  orders,  had  not  once  raised  his  head.  His  countenance 
was  as  tranquil  as  it  had  ever  been. 

"Giinther,"  said  the  emperor,  in  an  imperious  tone,  "begin  a 
new  sheet,  and  write  what  I  shall  dictate. " 

Giinther  bowed,  and  prepared  to  obey.  The  others  went  on  with 
their  work.  Had  Joseph  not  been  so  blinded  by  indignation  against 
his  private  secretary,  he  might  have  seen  how  one  of  the  others 
raised  his  head  and  glanced  furtively  around  ;  how  his  face  was  pale, 
and  his  lips  were  twitching  ;  and  how  his  hand  was  so  tremulous 
that  he  was  scarcely  able  to  hold  his  pen.  No  one  observed  it.  The 
other  secretaries  were  writing  ;  the  emperor,  in  his  wrath,  saw  noth- 
ing but  Giinther. 

And  now  with  flashing  eyes,  he  called  upon  Giinther  to  write. 

"To  liis  Eminence,  Cardinal  Megazzi : 

"It  has  come  to  my  knowledge  that  the  absurd  sect  which  origi- 
nated in  Bohemia,  is  spreading  its  pernicious  tenets  even  to  our 
capital.  A  heart-broken  father  has  this  day  come  before  me  to  ac- 
cuse his  daughter  of  Deism.  To  what  extremes  the  Deists  go  in 
their  imbecility,  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that  this  girl,  who  has  defied 
Heaven,  the  laws  of  her  country,  and  the  authority  of  her  father, 
has  left  the  paternal  roof,  and  is  now  living  a  life  of  shame  with  her 
paramour.  She  must  either  profess  some  faith,  or  be  jjuuished  as 
the  law  directs.  To  this  end,  your  eminence  wll  commission  an  in- 
telligent priest  to  visit  and  instruct  her  in  the  tenets  of  Christianity. 
From  this  day  she  is  a  prisoner  in  her  own  house  ;  but  as  she  is  of 
Jewish  birth  (and  I  do  not  wish  to  have  it  said  that  we  liave  forced 
her  into  Christianity) ,  a  Jewish  ral)bi  can  also  have  daily  access  to 
this  unhappy  infidel.  I  give  to  both  priests  four  weeks  to  convert 
her.  If,  at  the  end  of  that  time,  she  continues  contumacious,  she 
must  be  punished  as  the  Josephine  Code  directs,  with  fifty  lashes. "  * 

*  Gross-Hofflnger,  iii.,  p.  116. 


G2G  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS  COURT. 

The  emperor  had  dictated  this  letter  in  sharp,  biting  tones,  while 
Giinther,  nothing  apprehending,  had  written  it.  Once  only,  when 
the  accused  had  been  designated  as  a  Jewess,  his  jien  faltered,  and 
his  handsome,  noble  face  was  contracted  for  a  moment  by  pain.  But 
the  pang  had  been  sympathetic  and  momentary. 

"Have  you  written?"  asked  the  emperor,  striking  the  table  with 
his  clinched  hand. 

"I  have  written,  sire, "  replied  Giinther,  in  his  fine,  sonorous 
voice,  whose  familiar  tones,  in  spite  of  himself,  stirred  the  inner- 
most depths  of  his  misguided  sovereign's  heart. 

"Now,  answer  me  one  question,"  continued  Joseph,  hoarsely. 
"Have  you  ever  received  a  thousand  ducats  from  Eskeles  Flies'?" 

Again  the  head  of  one  of  the  secretaries  was  furtively  raised,  the 
hands  shook  like  aspen-leaves,  and  the  eyes  gave  one  rapid  glance 
toward  the  side  of  the  table  where  Giinther  sat. 

The  emperor,  as  before,  was  too  blinded  by  passion  to  see  any 
thing  save  the  innocent  object  of  his  wrath.  Giinther  was  surprised 
at  the  tone  in  which  the  question  had  been  asked,  and  seemed  at 
last  to  be  aware  that  it  was  one  full  of  significance.  But  his  reply 
was  prompt  and  calm. 

"  Yes,  sire,  I  received  that  sum  yesterday.  Not  for  me,  but  for 
a  lady  whose  name  is  well  known  to  your  majesty.  It  was  a  legacy 
left  by  her  mother. " 

Joseph  laughed  scornfully.  "Give  me  the  note  to  the  cardinal," 
cried  he.  Giinther  presented  it,  and  having  signed  it,  the  emperor 
gave  it  into  the  hands  of  the  secretary  opposite.  "  Fold  and  address 
the  letter, "  said  he.  "  But  stop — write  first  the  address  of  the  person 
wlio  presumes  to  avow  herself  a  Deist  in  the  face  of  my  laws.  Her 
name  is  Rachel  Eskeles  Flies. " 

A  cry  of  anguish  burst  from  Giinther's  lips,  and  in  his  madness 
he  ^would  have  snatclied  tlie  horrid  missive  from  the  secretary's 
hands.  But  he  recollected  himself,  and  turning  his  blanched  face 
toward  the  emperor,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Mercy,  gracious  sovereign,  mercy  for  my  Rachel !  You  have 
been  wickedly  deceived. " 

"Ay,"  cried  Joseph,  "I  have  been  wickedly  deceived;  but  he 
who  has  dared  to  betray  me,  shall  be  made  to  suffer  for  his  crime. 
Rise  from  this  table  and  leave  this  room.  You  are  dismissed  from 
my  service  as  a  false  traitor !" 

"  What,  your  majesty  !"  cried  Gunther,  in  tones  that  were  proud 
and  defiant.  "You  defame  me  without  so  mucli  as  telling  me  of 
what  I  am  accused  !  withovit  allowing  me  the  riglit  of  justification  1 
Tell  me — wliat  have  I  done?" 

"Ask  your  own  conscience,  if  you  have  one,  and  find  an  an- 
swer there !"  cried  Joseph,  furious  at  the  lofty  bearing  of  his 
victim. 

"  If  your  majesty  refuses  me  that  poor  boon, "  continued  Giinther, 
"  I  appeal  to  the  laws.  My  legal  judges  will  be  bound  to  hear  me 
publicly  accused,  and  to  listen  to  my  defence  !" 

"  I  am  your  accuser  and  j'our  judge — your  only  judge, "  i-eplied 
Joseph,  with  concentrated  passion.  "I  have  already  found  you 
guilty,  and  have  already  sentenced  you." 

"But  why,  wliy?"  cried  Giinther.  "If  you  would  not  drive  me 
mad,  tell  me  why?" 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  but  carry  out  your  sentence, "  cried  Joseph, 


THE  FAVOR  OF  PRINCES.  627 

ringing  a  bell.     "Are  the  men  without?"  said  he  to  the  page  who 
answered  his  summons. 

"Yes,  your  majesty.  A  subaltern  of  the  third  regiment  is  with- 
out, witli  four  soldiers." 

"Show  them  in!"  The  page  opened  the  door,  and  the  men 
entered. 

"  You  march  to  Hungary  to  your  new  gan-ison  to-day,  do  you 
not?"  said  the  emperor. 

"  Yes,  sire— we  march  in  one  hour, "  was  the  reply. 

"  Take  this  man  with  you  as  a  recruit. " 

Gunther  started  forward,  and  with  an  exclamation  of  hoiTor  fell 
at  the  emperor's  feet.     "Mercy!  mercy!"  gasped  he. 

"No  mercy,  but  justice  for  all  men  !"  cried  Joseph,  stamping  his 
foot.  Then  motioning  to  the  soldiers,  he  said:  "Take  him  away 
and  watch  him  closely,  lest  he  escajje.  Equip  him  and  put  him  in 
the  ranks      Away  with  you  !" 

The  men  advanced,  and  Gunther,  seeing  that  any  further  appeal 
was  vain,  suffered  himself  to  be  led  away  in  silence.  The  door 
closed  behind  them,  and  the  emperor  was  alone  with  his  three  secre- 
taries. There  was  a  long,  fearful  pause,  through  which  the  retreat- 
ing steps  of  the  soldiers  and  their  victim  were  heard.  When  the 
echoes  had  died  away,  the  emperor  spoke  in  hard,  cold  tones  : 

"  Gtiuther  was  a  traitor,  who  betrayed  the  secrets  of  tlie  state  for 
gold.  I  discovered  his  treachery,  and  have  punished  him  accord- 
ingly.    Take  warning  by  his  fate  !" 

So  saying,  he  passed  into  his  cabinet,  and  once  more  gave  vent 
to  his  bitter  grief. 

"I  could  not  do  otherwise,"  thought  he.  "I,  who  would  not 
spare  Podstadsky  and  Szekuly,  could  not  spare  this  traitor,  though 
he  has  been  very  dear  to  me  indeed.  He  must  suflfer,  but  I  shall 
suffer  with  him.  Mercy  is  so  much  more  natural  to  man  than  jus- 
tice !  Still,  mercy  is  the  prerogative  of  Heaven  alone.  I  am  here  to 
be  equitable  to  all." 

An  hour  later  the  third  regiment  left  Vienna  for  Szegedin,  their 
new  garrison.  A  few  wagons  followed  with  the  luggage,  and  the  sick 
men  who  were  unable  to  encounter  the  hardships  of  that  formidable 
march  to  Hungary.  In  one  of  these  wagons  lay  the  new  recruit.  His 
eyes  glared  with  delirium,  and  his  lips  were  parched  with  raging  fever. 
For  a  moment  he  seemed  to  awake  from  his  dream  of  madness,  for  he 
raised  himself  a  little,  and  murmured,  "Where  am  I?"  No  one  an- 
swered him,  but  a  flash  of  memory  revealed  to  him  the  horrors  of  his 
situation,  and  falling  back  with  a  shudder,  he  cried  out,  "Rachel,  my 
Rachel!  "  and  then  relapsed  into  delirium. 

The  same  evening,  Baron  Eskeles  Flies  left  his  hotel  on  foot,  and 
hastily  traversing  the  streets,  stopped  before  a  house  where,  ascend- 
ing to  the  second  story,  he  rang  the  bell.  A  richly-liveried  servant 
opened  the  door  at  the  head  of  the  staircase. 

"Is  the  imperial  secretary  Warkenhold  within  ?"  asked  the  baron. 

The  servant  did  not  know — he  would  see;  but  the  banker  saved 
him  the  trouble  by  putting  him  aside,  and  entering  the  little 
vestibule. 

"Show  me  the  way,"  said  he;  "you  need  not  announce  me.  A 
rich  man  is  welcome  everywhere." 

The  servant  obeyed,  and  conducted  the  banker  through  a  suite  of 
apartments   whose   splendor   he   contemplated   with   a   sneer.      "  Now 


628  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS   COUKT. 

go, "  said  he,  as  the  servant  pointed  to  a  portiere.     "  I  shall  announce 
myself." 

He  drew  the  portiere  and  knocked.  Then,  without  waiting  for 
an  answer,  he  entered  the  room. 

"Eskeles  Flies!"  cried  the  occupant,  who  was  lounging  on  a 
sofa,  and  was  no  other  than  the  secretary  that  had  been  so  disturbed 
by  the  emperor's  words  in  the  morning.  "  Elskeles  Flies  !"  repeated 
he,  springing  from  the  sofa,  and  hastening  forward. 

"Yes,  Bax'on  Eskeles  Flies,"  replied  the  banker,  proudly. 
"But   what  brings   you    to  me'?"  cried  Warkenhold,    terrified. 
"  Your  visit  exposes  me  to  danger." 

"  Nobody  knows  of  my  visit,  for  I  came  on  foot ;  and  let  me  tell 
you,  Herr  Warkenhold,  that  mj'  presence  in  your  house  is  an  honor 
wliich  is  not  apt  to  endanger  you." 

"  Only  to-day,  only  at  this  time, "  murmured  Warkenhold, 
apologetically. 

"Then  you  should  have  come  to  me  for  your  money.  You  said 
you  were  in  great  want,  liaving  lost  every  thing  at  cards,  and  so  I 
hasten  to  acquit  myself  of  my  debt.  Here  is  a  draft  for  one  thousand 
ducats." 

"Hush,  for  the  love  of  Heaven!"  whispered  Warkenhold. 
"What  can  I  do  with  a  draft?  I  never  would  dare  present  it  for 
payment,  for  you  know  that  the  emperor  keeps  spies  with  a  hundred 
eyes  to  track  his  employes.  And  suppose  I  go  to  your  office,  I  ex- 
pose myself  to  discovery." 

"Not  at  all,"  interrupted  the  banker,  laughing.  "Who  sliould 
betray  yoii?  Not  I.  And  no  one  but  us  two  are  in  the  secret.  Who, 
then,  should  tell  the  emperor  that  you  were  hidden  behind  the  door 
while  he  dictated  his  dispatches,  and  that  you  are  such  a  skilful 
imitator?  I  swear  that  Giinther  himself  would  have  been  staggered 
had  he  seen  those  letters  !  They  are  capital,  and  I  congratulate  you. 
You  are  a  genius." 

"Great  God  !  must  you  annoy  me  with  repetition  of  all  that  I 
did?"  cried  the  secretary,  with  asperity.  "Is  it  not  enough  that  I 
am  already  wretched,  as  I  look  back  to  the  terrible  scenes  of  the 
morning?  I  cannot  banish  the  image  of  that  uuhapijy  Giinther  frona 
my  mind.     I  felt  at  one  time  as  if  I  must  confess  and  save  him. " 

"Ha,  ha!  did  you?  Then  it  was  terrible,  was  it?  He  thundered 
like  another  Rhadamauthus,  did  he,  tliat  sapient  emperor?  And 
forced  poor,  innocent  Giinther  to  drink  of  the  chalice  we  had  pre- 
pared for  him?  Oh,  rare,  far-seeing  judge ! — Tell  me  all  about  it, 
Warkenhold. " 

Warkenhold,  shuddering,  repeated  what  had  taken  place.  When 
lie  spoke  of  the  (question  relating  to  the  thousand  ducats,  Eskeles 
Flies  interrupted  him. 

"And  of  course  he  had  to  say  yes.  Giinther  is  of  kniglitly  verac- 
ity, and  I  invented  the  story  of  the  legacy,  in  anticipation  of  that 
question.  Oh,  liow  admirably  my  calculations  have  been  made  ! 
Let  me  hear  the  rest. " 

Warkenhold  went  on,  and  when  he  had  concluded  his  woful  nar- 
rative, the  banker  nodded  and  said  : 

"You  are  a  genius.  You  narrate  as  well  as  you  eavesdrop  and 
forge !  Upon  my  word,  you  have  entertained  as  well  as  you  have 
served  me  !  My  success  in  this  affair  is  entirely  owing  to  you.  You 
are  as  skilful  as  your  great  Christian  ancestor,  Judas  ;  but  as  I  hope 


IHE  DEPUTATION  FROM   HUNGARY.  G29 

you  are  not  such  a  fool  as  to  go  out  and  hang  yourself,  here  are  fifty 
ducats  above  our  bargain.     They  are  for  your  mistress." 

He  drew  out  his  purse  and  counted  the  gold. 

"  I  thank  you, "  said  Warkenhold,  almost  inaudibly.  "  I  must 
take  the  money,  for  I  am  sorely  pressed  ;  but  I  would  give  my  right 
hand  not  to  have  been  forced  to  do  this  thing !" 

"  Pray  say  the  left.  Your  right  hand  is  a  treasure  not  lightly  to 
be  parted  with, "  said  the  banker,  laughing.  "  But  a  truce  to  senti- 
ment. It  is  useless  for  you  to  drape  yourself  in  the  toga  of  honor  or 
benevolence.  Our  business  is  at  an  end.  You  have  nothing  more 
to  claim,  I  believe?" 

"Nothing  whatever;  lam — " 

"Then,"  said  the  banker  taking  up  his  hat,  "we  have  nothing 
further  to  say  to  each  other.  You  have  been  the  insti-ument  of  my 
righteous  veugenace  ;  but  as  I  have  an  antipathy  to  villains,  let  me 
never  see  so  much  as  a  glance  of  recognition  from  you  again.  From 
this  hour  we  are  strangers.     Adieu  !" 


CHAPTER    CLXVI. 

THE  DEPUTATION   FROM   HUNGARY. 

In  the  great  reception-room  of  the  imperial  palace,  a  deputation 
of  the  moat  illustrious  magnates  of  Hungary  awaited  an  interview 
with  the  emperor.  For  one  whole  year  the  Hungarian  nobles  had 
withdrawn  from  court ;  l^ut  now,  in  the  interest  of  their  fatherland, 
they  stood  once  more  within  the  walls  of  the  palace  ;  and  in  their 
magnificent  state-uniforms,  as  the  representatives  of  all  Hungary, 
they  were  assembled  to  demand  redress  for  their  national  grievances. 

When  the  emperor  entered  the  reception-room,  he  came  alone, 
in  a  plain  uniform.  He  greeted  the  deputies  with  a  smile  which 
they  returned  by  profound  and  silent  inclinations  of  their  aristo- 
cratic heads.  Joseph  looked  slowly  around  at  the  brilliant  assem- 
blage of  magnates  before  him. 

"  A  stately  deputation  of  my  loyal  Hungarians, "  observed  he.  "  I 
see  all  the  proudest  families  of  the  kingdom  represented  here  to-day. 
Count  Palfy,  for  example,  the  son  of  hini  whom  the  empress  was 
accustomed  to  call  her  champion  and  father.  Count  Batthiany,  the 
heir  of  my  favorite  tutor.  I  rejoice  to  see  you,  and  hope  that  you 
are  here  to-day  to  greet  me  as  ever,  in  the  character  of  loyal 
subjects. " 

There  was  a  short  pause,  after  which.  Count  Palfy,  stepping  a 
little  in  advance  of  the  others,  addressed  the  emperor. 

"Sire,  we  are  sent  by  the  kingdom  of  Hungary  to  lay  our  wrongs 
before  your  majesty,  and  request  redress. " 

"Does  the  count  represent  your  sentiments?"  asked  the  emperor, 
addressing  the  delegates.  A  unanimous  affirmative  was  the  reply, 
and  Joseph  then  continued  :  "  Speak  on.  I  will  hear  your  com- 
plaints and  reply  to  them." 

Count  Palfy  bowed  and  resumed.  "We  have  come  to  remind 
your  majesty  that  when,  in  November,  1780,  you  ascended  the  throne 
of  Austria,  we  received  a  written  declaration  from  your  imperial 
hand,  guaranteeing  our  rights  luider  the  national  constitution  of 
Hungary.     Nevertheless,  these  rights  have   been  invaded,  and  we 


G30  JOSEPH    II.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

come  before  your  majesty's  tlirone  in  the  hope  that  our  just  remon- 
strances may  not  appear  ottensive  in  the  eyes  of  our  king."  * 

"  But  what  if  they  do  appear  offensive?  "  cried  tlie  emperor, 
chafed.  "  What  if  I  should  refuse  to  hear  those  complaints  which 
are  nothing  but  the  fermentation  of  your  own  pride  and  arro- 
gance? " 

"  If  your  majesty  refuses  to  hear  us  to-day,"  said  Count  Palfy, 
with  firmness,  "  we  shall  return  to-morrow,  and  every  day;  for  we 
have  sworn  to  present  the  grievances  of  the  states  to  your  notice, 
and  must  keep  our  oath." 

"  I  am  quite  as  well  acquainted  with  the  grievances  as  you,  and 
to  prove  it  to  you,  1  will  state  them  myself.  First,  you  are  ag-- 
grieved  because  I  have  not  gone  to  Hungai-y  to  be  crowned,  and  to 
take  the  constitutional  oath." 

"  Yes,  sire,  we  are;  and  this  grievance  leads  us  to  the  second  one. 
We  venture  to  ask  if,  secretly  and  without  the  consent  of  the  states, 
the  crown  of  St.  Stephen  has  been  removed  to  Vienna?  " 

*'  Yes,  it  has  been  removed,"  cried  Joseph,  with  increasing  irri- 
tation. "  It  has  been  brought  to  me,  to  whom  it  belongs;  but  I 
shall  return  it  to  Ofen,  when  the  structure  which  is  to  receive  it  is 
completed." 

"  That  is  an  unconstitutional  act,"  said  Count  Palfy.  "  Is  it  not, 
my  friends?  " 

"  It  is,"  cried  a  chorus  of  Magyars. 

"  I  have  never  taken  the  oath  to  the  constitution,"  was  Joseph's 
reply.  "  Hungary  would  have  to  undergo  signal  changes  before  I 
ever  go  there  to  be  crowned  as  your  king.  You  ai-e  not  content  with 
reigning  over  your  vassals;  you  desire,  in  your  ambitious  presump- 
tion, to  reign  over  me  also.  But  I  tell  you  that  I  am  no  royal  pup- 
jjet  in  the  hands  of  a  republic  of  aristocrats.  I  am  lord  and  king  of 
all  my  provinces.  Hungary  has  no  claim  to  a  separate  nationality, 
and,  once  for  all,  I  shall  no  more  talie  the  coronation  oath  there, 
than  I  shall  do  it  in  Tyrol,  Bohemia,  Galicia,  or  Lombardy.  All 
3'our  crowns  are  fused  into  the  imperial  crown  of  Austria,  and  it  is 
proper  that  I,  who  own  them  all,  should  preserve  them  with  my 
regalia  at  Vienna.  All  strife  and  jealousy  between  the  provinces 
composing-  my  empire  must  cease. f  I'rovincial  interests  must  dis- 
appear before  national  exigencies.  This  is  all  that  I  have  to  say  to 
the  states;  but  I  will  say  to  yourselves,  that  when  I  find  myself 
absolute  lord  of  Hungary,  as  well  as  of  Austria,  1  will  go  thither  to 
be  crowned.  And  now.  Lord  Chancellor  of  Hungary,  what  other 
grievance  have  you  to  present?  " 

"  Our  second  grievance,  sire,  is,  that  to  the  great  humiliation  of 
all  Hungary,  our  native  tongue  and  the  Latin  language  have  been 
superseded  liy  the  German.  Tliis,  too,  is  unconstitutional,  for  it 
has  shut  out  all  Hungarians,  in  a  measure,  from  public  otlice,  and 
has  placed  the  administration  of  our  laws  in  the  hands  of  Austri- 
ans,  perfectly  ignorant  of  our  constitution."  $ 

"  To  this  1  have  to  say  that  German  sliall  be  the  language  of  all 
my  subjects.  Why  should  yoK  enjoy  the  jirivilege  of  a  national  lan- 
guage? /  am  Enij)ei'or  of  Germany,  and  /////  tongue  shall  be  that  of 
my  provinces.  If  Hungary  were  the  most  important  jjortion  of  the 
empire,  its  language,  doubtless,  would  be  Hungarian;  but  it  is  not, 

*  These  are  the  words  of  the  Tliniparian  protest. — See  Ilubner,  ii.,  p.  265. 
+  The  Emperor's  own  words.—"  Letters  of  Joseph  II." 
%  The  words  of  the  Hungariau  protest.— Hubner,  ii.,  p.  207. 


THE  DEPUTATION  FROM  HUNGARY.  G31 

and,  therefore,  shall  you  speak  German.*  I  will  now  pass  on  to 
your  third  grievance,  for  you  see  that  I  am  well  posted  on  the  sub- 
ject of  your  sufferings.  I  have  numbered  and  taxed  your  property, 
and  that,  too,  in  spite  of  your  constitution,  which  exempts  you  from 
taxation.  In  my  opinion,  the  privileges  of  an  aristocracy  do  not 
consist  in  evading  their  share  of  the  national  burdens  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, they  should  assume  it  voluntarily,  and,  for  the  weal  of  the 
nation,  place  themselves  on  an  equality  with  the  people,  each  class 
striving  Mnth  the  other  as  to  who  shall  best  promote  the  prosperity 
of  the  government,  f  I  cannot  exempt  you,  therefore,  from  paying 
taxes. " 

"  But,  sire,  this  tax  violates  our  rights  and  our  constitution, "  re- 
plied Count  Palfy. 

"Has  Hungary  a  constitution?  A  tumultuous  states-diet,  privi- 
leged aristocracy,  the  subjection  of  three-fifths  of  the  nation  to  the 
remainder — is  this  a  constitution?" 

"It  is  the  constitution  of  Hungary,  and  we  have  your  majesty's 
written  promise  that  you  would  respect  it.  But  even  had  we  re- 
ceived no  solemn  declaration  of  the  sort,  upon  the  security  of  our 
national  freedom  depends  the  Austrian  right  of  succession  to  the 
throne  of  Hungary. "  X 

"You  dare  threaten  me?"  cried  Joseph,  furiously. 

"  No,  sire,  we  do  not  threaten  ;  we  are  in  the  presence  of  a  truth- 
loving  monarch,  and  we  are  compelled  to  speak  the  unvarnished 
truth.  We  have  already  borne  much  from  your  majesty's  ancestors. 
But,  until  the  death  of  Maria  Theresa,  our  fundamental  laws  re- 
mained inviolate.  True,  in  the  last  years  of  her  life  she  refused  to 
allow  the  states-diet  to  assemble  ;  but  she  never  laid  her  hand  upon 
our  constitution.  She  was  crowned  Queen  of  Hungary,  and  took  the 
coronation  oath.  Charles  the  Sixth  and  Joseph  the  First  did  like- 
wise. Each  one  guaranteed  us  the  right  of  inheritance,  and  our 
national  freedom." 

"There  is  no  such  thing  as  national  freedom  in  Hungary.  It 
contains  nothing  but  lords  and  vassals,  and  it  is  vassalage  that  I  in- 
tend to  abolish. " 

"  Does  your  majesty  think  that  the  general  freedom  of  the  state  is 
promoted  by  your  conscription  laws?" 

"Ah!  here  we  have  grievance  the  fourth, "  exclaimed  Joseph. 
"Yes,  the  conscription  is  a  thorn  in  your  sensitive  sides,  because  it 
claims  you  as  the  children  and  servants  of  your  country,  and  forces 
you  to  draw  your  swords  in  her  defence. " 

"  We  have  never  I'efused  our  blood  to  the  country, "  replied  Count 
Palfy,  proudly  throwing  back  his  head,  "and  if  her  rights  are  intact 
to-day,  it  is  because  ive  have  defended  and  protected  them.  We 
have  fought  for  our  fatherland,  however,  not  as  con.scripts,  but  as 
freemen.  Our  people  are  unanimous  in  their  abhorrence  of  the  con- 
scription act.  When  we  weigh  the  motives  and  consequences  of 
tliis  act,  we  can  draw  but  one  inference  from  either  :  that  we,  who 
were  born  freemen,  are  to  be  reduced  to  slavery,  and  to  be  trampled 
under  foot  by  every  other  province  of  Austria.  Rather  than  submit 
to  such  indignity  we  will  lay  down  our  lives,  for  we  are  of  one 
mind,  and  would"  sooner  die  than  lose  our  liberty  !" 

*  The  emperor's  own  words.— See  "Letters  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  76. 
+  The  emperor's  own  words.— See  "  Letters  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  95. 
X  The  words  of  the  Hungarian  protest.— Hubner,  ii.,  p.  5263. 

41 


632  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT, 

"  And  I, "  cried  Joseph,  his  eye  flashing  and  his  face  scarlet  with 
passion, "  I  say  to  you  all,  that  you  shall  live,  for  I,  your  king  and 
master,  command  you  to  do  so." 

An  angry  murmur  was  heard,  and  every  eye  looked  defiance  at 
the  emperor.  "  Ah, "  said  he,  scornfully,  "  you  would  ape  the  Polish 
diet,  and  dispute  tlie  will  of  your  king !  You  remember  how  the 
King  of  Poland  succumbed  to  dictation  !  I  am  another  and  a  differ- 
ent man,  and  I  care  neither  for  your  approbation  nor  for  your  blame. 
It  is  my  purpose  to  make  Hungary  prosperous,  and  therefore  I  have 
abolished  the  feudal  system  which  is  unfavorable  to  the  development 
of  the  resources  of  the  country.  You  Magyars  would  interfere  with 
me.  You  have  a  constitution  at  variance  with  my  laws,  and  for  the 
sake  of  a  piece  of  rotten  parchment  three  hundred  years  old,  Hun- 
gary must  be  suffered  to  remain  uncivilized  forever !  Away  with 
your  mediaeval  j)rivileges  and  rusty  escutcheons !  A  new  century 
has  dawned,  and  not  only  the  nobly  born  shall  see  its  light,  but  the 
people  who,  until  now,  have  been  thrust  aside  by  your  arrogance ! 
If  enlightenment  violates  your  ancient  privileges,  they  shall  be 
swept  away  to  give  place  to  the  victorious  rights  of  man  !  And  this 
is  my  answer  to  all  youV  grievances.  Go  home,  ye  Magyars,  assem- 
ble your  peers,  and  tell  them  that  my  decision  is  vmalterable  ;  and 
that  what  I  have  done  with  deliberation  I  shall  never  revoke.  Go 
home  and  tell  them  that  the  emperor  has  spoken,  and  they  have 
nothing  to  do  bvit  to  submit !" 

With  a  slight  inclination  JoseiDh  turned  his  back  ;  and  before  the 
magnates  had  time  to  recover  themselves  and  to  reply  to  this  haughty 
harangue,  the  emperor  had  disappeared  and  closed  the  door. 

In  speechless  indignation  they  glanced  at  one  another.  They  had 
expected  difficulty  ;  but  such  insulting  rejection  of  their  petition 
they  had  not  anticipated.  They  remembered  the  day  when,  with 
this  same  Joseph  in  her  arms,  Maria  Theresa  had  appealed  to  their 
fathers  for  succor  ;  they  remembered,  too,  how  in  the  enthusiasm  of 
their  "loyalty  they  had  sworn  to  die  for  Maria  Theresa,  their  king ! 

"  He  never  revokes  !"  muttered  Palfy,  after  a  long  silence.  "  You 
heard  him,  Magyars,  he  never  revokes!  Shall  we  suffer  him  to  op- 
press us  ?" 

"  No,  no  !"  was  the  unanimous  reply. 

"So  be  it,"  said  Palfy,  solemnly  "He  has  thrown  down  the 
gaimtlct ;  we  raise  it,  and  strip  for  the  fight.  But  for  Hungary  this 
man  liad  been  ruined.  To-day  he  would  ruin  us,  and  we  cast  him 
off.  Henceforth  our  cry  is — '  Moriamur  pro  rege  nostra  constitu- 
tione! '  " 

" '  Moriamur  pro  rege  nostro  constitutione ! '  "  echoed  the  Mag- 
yars, every  man  with  his  right  hand  raised  to  heaven. 


CHAPTER    CLXVII. 

THE   RECOMPENSE. 


For  four  weeks  Rachel  had  bc^cn  a  prisoner  in  her  own  hovise  ;  all 
persons,  with  the  exception  of  a  C'atholic  priest  and  a  Jewish  rabbi, 
having  been  refused  access  to  her.  But  at  the  expiration  of  tliis  time 
a  deputy  from  the  imperial  chancery  was  admitted,  who  hatl  a  long 
interview  with  the  poor  girl,  and  at  dusk  another  visitor  presented 


THE  RECOMPENSE.  633 

himself  at  the  door  of  that  gloomy  abode.     This  last  one  was  Baron 
Eskeles  Flies. 

The  sentinels  had  allowed  him  to  pass,  and  the  guards  in  Rachel's 
anteroom  gave  way  also,  for  the  baron's  permit  to  visit  his  daughter 
was  from  the  emperor.  With  a  respectful  inclination  they  presented 
the  key  of  the  prisoner's  room  and  awaited  her  father's  orders. 

"Go  below,  and  wait  until  I  call  you,"  said  he. 

"  Of  course,  as  we  are  commanded  in  the  permit  to  obey  you,  we 
follow  the  emperor's  order." 

Herr  Eskeles  thanked  them,  and  putting  a  ducat  in  the  hand  of 
each,  the  men  departed  in  a  state  of  supreme  satisfaction.  They  had 
scarcely  left,  wlien  the  banker  bolted  the  door  from  the  inside,  and 
crossed  the  room  toward  the  opposite  door.  His  hand  trembled  so 
that  he  could  not  introduce  the  key  to  open  it,  and  he  was  obliged  to 
retreat  to  tlie  sofa,  and  there  recover  himself. 

"How  will  she  receive  me?"  thought  he.  "They  say  that  she  is 
sadly  changed,  and  that  her  father  would  scarcely  know  his  beauti- 
ful child  again.  Oh,  my  child,  will  I  be  able  to  bear  tlie  sight  of 
your  grief  without  falling  at  your  feet,  and  acknowledging  my  guilt? 
But  pshaw  !  Slie  is  safe  now.  I  shall  take  her  home  ;  and  for  every 
tear  that  she  has  shed,  I  will  give  her  a  diamond  bright  as  a  star. 
She  shall  have  gold,  pearls,  riches,  and  be  once  more  the  envy  of  all 
the  women  in  Vienna.  Yes,  my  Rachel,  yes— gold,  diamonds,  and 
happiness !" 

He  turned  the  key,  and  the  door  opened.  Not  a  sound  greeted 
his  entrance  into  that  dismal  room,  wherein  fotir  funeral-looking 
wax-lights  were  buruiug  at  each  corner  of  a  square  table.  Even  so 
had  the  lights  burned  in  the  room  where  Rachel's  mother  once  lay 
dead.  The  banker  thought  of  this,  as  between  those  flaring  lights 
he  saw  the  pale,  wan  figure  on  the  sofa,  that  seemed  as  rigid,  as 
motionless,  and  as  white  as  a  corpse. 

Was  it  indeed  Rachel?  Those  pinched  features,  those  hollow 
eyes ;  that  figure,  so  bowed  witli  sorrow,  could  that  be  his  peerless 
daughter?  What  had  diamonds  and  pearls  in  common  with  that 
pale  spectre  ? 

The  banker  could  scarcely  sui)press  a  cry  of  anguish  as  he  gazed 
upon  the  wreck  of  so  much  beauty.  But  he  gathered  courage  to 
cross  the  room,  and  stood  before  her. 

"  Rachel, "  said  he,  in  a  soft,  imploring  voice,  "  do  you  know  me?" 

"I  know  you, "replied  she,  without  moving;  "do  you  know 
me  9  " 

"My  beloved  child,  my  heart  recognizes  you,  and  calls  you  to 
itself.  Come,  darling,  come  and  rest  within  you  father's  protecting 
arms.  See,  they  are  open  to  receive  you.  I  have  forgiven  all,  and 
am  ready  to  devote  my  whole  life  to  your  happiness. " 

He  opened  his  arms,  but  Rachel  did  not  stir.  She  looked  at  him, 
and  when  he  saw  the  look,  his  hands  dropped  nerveless  to  his  side. 

"Where  is  Gtinther?"  asked  she.  "What  have  you  done  with 
him?" 

"I,  my  child?"  exclaimed  Eskeles.  "The  emperor  has  detected 
him  in  some  dishonorable  act  (I  know  not  what),  and  has  sent  him  as 
a  recruit  to  Hungary. " 

"I  liave  heard  this  fable  before, "  said  Rachel,  with  a  glance  of 
scorn.  "The  priest  who  was  sent  to  convert,  has  tried  to  console  me 
for  my  loss,  by  dinning  in  my  ears  that  Giiuther  was  a  traitor ;   but 


G34  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

I  know  better.  He  is  the  victim  of  a  Jew's  revenge.  It  is  you  who 
have  accused  him  with  false  witnesses,  false  letters,  with  all  that 
vengeance  can  inspire,  and  wicked  gold  can  buy.  You  are  the  ac- 
cuser of  my  noble  Gilnther  !"  By  this  time  she  had  arisen,  and  now 
she  stood  confronting  her  father,  her  wasted  finger  pointing  toward 
him,  and  her  sunken  eyes  glowing  like  lights  from  a  dark,  deep  cave. 

"  Who  says  so?     Who  has  dared  accuse  me?"  said  he. 

"  Your  face  accuses  you ! — your  eyes,  that  dare  not  encounter 
mine  !  Nay — do  not  raise  your  hand  in  sacrilegious  protest,  but  an- 
swer me.  By  the  faith  of  your  ancestors,  are  you  not  the  man  who 
denounced  him?" 

He  could  not  meet  her  scrutinizing  glance.  He  averted  his  face, 
murmuring:  "  He  who  accused  him  is  no  better  than  himself.  But 
it  is  the  emperor  who  condemned  him." 

"The  emperor  is  miserably  befooled, "  cried  Rachel.  " He  knows 
not  the  subtlety  of  Jewish  revenge.  But  I  am  of  the  Jewish  race, 
and  I  know  it.     I  know  my  father,  and  I  know  my  lover !" 

"  In  this  hour  of  reunion  we  will  not  discuss  the  innocence  or 
guilt  of  the  emperor's  secretary,"  said  the  banker,  gently.  "I  am 
thankfid  tliat  the  dark  cloud  which  has  hidden  you  so  long  from  my 
sight  is  lifted,  and  that  all  is  well  with  us  again. " 

•'All  is  not  well,  for  between  us  lies  the  grave  of  my  happiness, 
and  that  grave  has  sundered  us  forever.  I  cannot  come  to  you,  my 
fatlier :  the  memory  of  my  lover  is  between  us,  and  that  memory — 
oh,  do  not  call  it  a  cloud  !  'Tis  the  golden  beam  of  that  sun  which 
has  set,  but  whose  rays  are  still  warm  within  my  breaking  heart.  I 
say  nothing  to  you  of  all  that  I  have  endured  during  these  four 
weeks  of  anguish  ;  but  this  I  can  tell  you,  my  father,  that  I  have 
never  repented  my  choice.  I  am  Gilnther 's  for  life,  and  for  death, 
which  is  the  birth  of  immortality  !" 

"He  is  a  dishonored  man  !"  said  Eskeles,  frowning. 

"And  I,  too,  will  be  dishonored  to-morrow, "  replied  Rachel. 

Her  father  started.  He  had  forgotten  the  disgrace  which  threat- 
ened her. 

"  Rachel, "  said  he,  with  exceeding  tenderness,  "  I  come  to  rescue 
you  from  shame  and  suffering. " 

"  To  rescue  me  ?"  echoed  she.     "  Whither  would  you  have  me  fly  ?" 

"To  the  house  of  your  father,  my  child." 

"I  have  no  father,"  replied  she,  with  a  weary  sigh.  "My  father 
would  have  forced  my  heart,  as  the  priest  and  the  rabbi  would  have 
forced  my  belief.  But  I  am  free  in  my  faith,  my  love,  and  my 
hate  ;  and  this  freedom  will  sustain  me  to-morrow  throughout  the 
torture  and  shame  of  a  disgraceful  punishment. " 

"  You  surely  will  not  brave  the  lash  !"  cried  her  father,  his  cheeks 
blanched  with  horror  at  the  thought.  "You  will  be  womanly,  my 
child,  and  recant." 

"I  must  speak  the  truth,"  said  she,  interrupting  him.  "The 
doors  of  the  synagogue,  as  well  as  those  of  the  church,  are  closed 
against  me.  I  am  no  Jewess,  and  yoii  forced  me  to  swear  that  I 
would  never  become  a  Christian.  But  what  matters  it?"  continued 
she,  kindling  with  enthusiasm,  "I  believe  in  God— the  God  of  love 
and  mercy  ;  and  to-morrow  I  shall  see  His  face  !" 

"  You  would  destroy  yourself  !"  cried  her  father,  his  senses  almost 
forsaking  liini. 

"  No.     But  do  you  suppose  that  I  shall  survive  the  severity  and 


THE  RECOMPENSE.  635 

humiliation  of  the  lash  which  it  is  the  i^leasure  of  tne  emperor  to 
inflict  upon  me?  No,  my  father,  I  shall  die  before  the  executioner 
has  time  to  strike  his  second  blow." 

"Rachel,  my  Rachel,  do  not  speak  such  dreadful  words !"  cried 
Eskeles,  wringing  his  hands  in  desjjair.  "  You  cannot  be  a  Chris- 
tian, I  know  it ;  for  their  belief  is  imworthy  of  a  pure  soul.  How 
could  you  ever  give  the  hand  of  fellowship  to  a  race  who  have  out- 
lawed you,  because  you  scorn  to  utter  a  falsehood !  But  confess 
yourself  a  Jewess,  and  all  will  be  well  with  us  once  more. " 

"  I  shall  never  return  to  the  Jewish  God  of  wrath  and  revenge  ! 
31y  God  is  all  love.  I  must  acknowledge  Him  before  the  world,  and 
die  for  His  sake  !" 

There  was  a  pause.  Rachel  was  calm  and  resolute ;  her  father 
almost  distracted.     After  a  time  he  spoke  again. " 

"  So  be  it,  then, "  cried  he,  raising  his  hand  to  heaven.  "  Be  a 
Christian.  I  absolve  you  from  your  oath,  and  oh,  my  Racliel !  if  I 
sought  the  world  for  a  proof  of  my  overweening  love,  it  could  offer 
nothing  to  compare  with  this  sacrifice.  Go,  my  child,  and  become 
a  Christian." 

She  shook  her  head.  "The  Christian's  crueltj'  has  cured  me  of 
my  love  for  Christianitj'.  I  can  never  be  one  of  a  race  who  have 
persecuted  my  innocent  lover.  As  for  you,  the  cause  of  his  martyr- 
dom, hear  my  determination,  and  know  that  it  is  inflexible.  I  am 
resolved  to  endure  the  punishment ;  and  when  the  blood  streams  f  i-om 
my  back,  and  my  frantic  cries  pierce  the  air  until  they  reach  your 
palace- walls  ; — when  in  the  midst  of  the  gaping  populace,  my  body 
lies  stretched  upon  the  market- place,  dishonored  by  the  hand  of  the 
executioner, — then  shall  your  revenge  have  returned  to  you  ;  for  the 
whole  world  will  point  at  you  as  you  pass,  and  say,  '  He  is  the  father 
of  the  woman  who  was  whipped  to  death  by  the  hangman  ! '  " 

"Alas!"  sobbed  the  father,  "I  see  that  you  hate  me,  and  yet  I 
must  rescue  you,  even  against  your  own  will.  The  emperor  has 
given  me  a  pass  to  Paris.  It  is  himself  who  allows  me  to  escape 
with  my  poor,  misguided  child.  Come,  dear  Rachel,  come,  ere  it 
be  too  late,  and  in  Paris  we  can  forget  our  sorrows  and  begin  life 
anew  !" 

"  No !  he  has  made  the  law,  and  he  must  bear  the  consequences 
of  his  own  cruelty.  He  need  not  think  to  rescue  himself  from  the 
odium  of  his  acts,  by  conniving  at  my  escape  !  I  hate  that  emperor, 
the  oppressor  of  my  beloved  ;  and  as  he  dishonored  Giiuther,  so  shall 
he  dishonor  me.  Our  woes  will  cry  to  Heaven  for  vengeance,* 
and—" 

But  Rachel  suddenly  ceased,  and  fell  back  upon  a  chair.  She  had 
no  strength  to  repulse  her  father,  as  he  raised  her  in  his  arms,  and 
laid  her  upon  the  sofa.  He  looked  into  her  marble  face,  and  i^ut  his 
lips  to  hers. 

"  She  has  swooned, "  cried  he  in  despair.  "  We  must  fly  at  once. 
Rachel,  Rachel,  awake !  The  time  is  almost  up.  Come,  we  must 
away  !" 

She  opened  her  eyes,  and  looked  around.  "  Come,  my  daughter, " 
said  her  father,  kissing  her  wasted  hands. 

She  said  nothing,  but  stared  and  smiled  a  vacant  smile.  Again 
he  took  her  hands,  and  saw  that  they  were  hot  and  dry.  Her  breath, 
too,  was  hot,  and  yet  her  pulse  was  feeble  and  fitful. 

Her  father,  in  his  agony,  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  the  uncon- 


636  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

scious  girl.  But  this  was  no  time  for  wailing.  He  rose  to  his  feet 
again,  and  darting  from  the  room,  offered  a  handful  of  gold  to  the 
sentry,  if  he  would  but  seek  a  physician.  Then  he  returned  to 
Rachel.  She  lay  still  with  her  eyes  wide,  wide  open,  while  she 
murmured  inaudible  words,  which  he  vainly  strove  to  under- 
stand. 

At  length  came  the  physician.  He  bent  over  the  patient,  ex- 
amined her  pulse,  felt  her  forehead,  and  then  turning  to  the  banker, 
who  stood  by  with  his  heart  throbbing  as  if  it  would  burst — 

"  Are  you  a  relative  of  the  lady '?"  asked  he. 

"  I  am  lier  father, "  replied  Eskeles,  and  even  in  this  terrible  hour 
he  felt  a  thrill  of  joy  as  he  spoke  the  words. 

"  I  regret,  then,  to  say  to  you  that  she  is  very  ill.  Her  malady  is 
typhoid  fever,  in  its  most  dangerous  form.  I  fear  that  she  will  not 
recover  .  she  must  have  been  ill  for  some  weeks,  and  have  concealed 
her  illness.     Has  she  suffered  mentally  of  late?" 

"  Yes,  I  believe  that  she  has, "  faltered  the  banker.  "  Will  she 
die?" 

"  I  am  afraid  to  give  you  any  hope— the  disease  has  gone  so  far. 
It  is  strange.  Was  there  no  relative  near  her  to  see  how  ill  she  has 
been  for  so  long  a  time?" 

Gracious  Heaven !  What  torture  he  inflicted  upon  the  guilty 
father  !  At  that  moment  he  would  have  recalled  Giinther,  and  wel- 
comed him  as  a  son,  could  his  presence  have  saved  the  child  whom 
himself  had  murdered  ! 

"Doctor,"  said  he,  in  husky,  trembling  tones,  "doctor,  you  must 
save  my  child.  Ask  what  j'ou  will— I  am  rich,  and  if  you  restore 
her  to  me,  you  shall  liave  a  million  !" 

"  Unhappily,  life  cannot  be  bought  with  gold, "  replied  the  physi- 
cian. "  God  alone  can  restore  her.  We  can  do  naught  but  assist 
Nature,  and  alleviate  her  sufferings. " 

"How  can  we  alleviate  her  suffering?"  asked  Eskeles  humbly,  for 
his  spirit  was  broken. 

"  By  cool  drinks,  and  cold  compressions  upon  her  head, "  said  the 
physician.     "  Are  there  no  women  here  to  serve  her?" 

"  No, "  murmured  the  banker.  "  My  daughter  is  a  prisoner.  She 
is  Rachel  Eskeles  Flies. " 

"Ah!  The  Deist  who  was  to  have  suffered  to-morrow?  Poor, 
poor  child,  neitiier  church  nor  synagogue  can  avail  her  now,  for  God 
will  take  her  to  himself." 

"  But  there  is  a  possibility  of  saving  her,  is  there  not?"  asked  the 
father  imploringly.  "We  must  try  every  thing,  for — she  must  be 
saved !" 

'''■Must?"  repeated  the  physician.  "Think  you  because  you  are 
rich  that  you  can  bribe  Heaven?  See,  rather,  how  impotent  your 
wealth  has  been  to  make  your  beautiful  child  happy  (for  I  know  her 
story) .  And,  now,  in  spite  of  all  the  gold  for  which  you  have  sacri- 
ficed her,  she  will  die  of  a  broken  heart !" 

Just  tlion  Rac-liel  uttf^red  a  loud  shriek,  and  clasping  both  her 
hands  around  licr  liead,  cried  out  that  her  brain  was  on  fire. 

"Cold  compressions — «pnck,'' exclaimed  the  pliysician  impera- 
tively ;  and  the  banker  staggered  into  Rachel's  dressing-room  (tlie 
room  which  Gdnther  had  so  daintily  fitted  up),  and  brought  water 
and  ;i  soft  fine  towel,  which  his  tr<'nil)liiig  hands  could  scarcely  bind 
upon  his  poor  child's  head.     Tlien,  as  her  moaning  ceased,  and  her 


THE  RECOMPENSE.  637 

arms  dropped,  he  passed  into  an  ecstasy  of  joy,  for  now  he  began  to 
hope  that  she  would  be  spared  to  him. 

"  We  must  have  female  attendance  here, "  said  the  physician. 
"She  must  be  put  to  bed  and  tenderly  watched.  Go,  baron,  and 
bring  j^our  servants.  I  will  see  the  emperor,  and  take  upon  myself 
the  responsibility  of  having  infringed  his  oi'ders.  Before  such  im- 
minent peril  all  imprisonment  is  at  an  end. " 

"I  cannot  leave  her,"  returned  the  baron.  "You  say  she  has  but 
a  few  days  to  live  ;  if  .so,  I  cannot  spare  one  second  of  her  life.  I 
entreat  of  you,  take  my  carriage,  and  in  merc3%  bring  the  sei'vants 
for  me.  Oh,  listen !  she  screams  again — doctor  go,  I  entreat ! 
Here — fresh  compressions — water !     Oh,  be  quick  !" 

And  again  the  wretched  man  bent  over  his  child,  and  laid  the 
cloths  upon  her  head.  The  physician  had  gone,  and  he  was  alone 
with  his  treasure.  He  felt  it  a  relief  to  be  able  to  kiss  her  hands,  to 
weep  aloud,  to  throw  himself  upon  his  knees,  and  pray  to  the  God 
of  Israel  to  spare  his  idol ! 

The  night  went  by,  the  sei'vants  came,  and  the  physician,  exam- 
ining his  patient  again,  promised  to  return  in  a  few  hours.  Rachel 
was  carried  to  her  bed,  and,  hour  after  hour,  the  banker  sat  patient 
and  watchful,  listening  to  every  moan,  echoing  every  sigh  ;  afraid 
to  trust  his  precious  charge  to  any  one,  lest  the  vigilance  of  another 
might  fail. 

A  day  and  another  night  went  by,  and  still  no  sleep  had  come 
over  those  glaring  eyes.  But  she  wept  bitter  tears,  and  when  he 
heard  her  broken,  murmured  words  of  anguish,  he  thought  he  would 
go  mad  ! 

But  sometimes  in  her  fever-madness  she  smiled  and  was  happy. 
Then  she  laughed  aloud,  and  spoke  to  her  beloved,  who  was  always 
at  her  side.  She  had  not  once  pronounced  the  name  of  her  father  ; 
she  seemed  to  have  forgotten  him,  remembering  nothing  in  all  her 
past  life  save  her  love  for  Giinther. 

Often  her  father  knelt  beside  her,  and  with  tears  streaming  from 
his  eyes,  implored  a  look,  a  word — one  single  word  of  forgiveness. 
But  Racliel  laughed  and  sang,  heedless  of  the  despairing  wretch  who 
lay  stricken  to  the  earth  at  her  side ;  while  the  lover  whom  she 
caressed  was  far  away,  unconscious  of  the  blessing. 

Suddenly  she  uttered  a  wild  cry,  and  starting  up,  threw  her  arms 
convulsi  vely  about.  Now  she  invoked  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  upon 
Giintlier's  murderers  and  at  last — at  last,  was  heard  the  name  of  her 
father !    Site  cursed  him  ! 

With  a  cry  as  piercing  as  that  oi  the  poor  maniac,  Eskeles  Flies 
sank  upon  his  knees,  and  wept  aloud. 

Gradually  Rachel  grew  moie  tranquil ;  and  now  sh'  lay  back  on 
her  pillow  with  a  happy  smile  on  her  lips.  But  she  spoke  not  a 
word.  Once  more  she  sighed  "  Giinther, "  and  then  relapsed  into 
silence. 

Into  a  silence  that  seemed  so  breathless  and  so  long,  that  her 
father  arose,  frightened,  from  his  knees.  He  bent  over  his  smiling 
child,  and  her  face  seemed  transfigured.  Not  a  sigh  stirred  her 
bosom,  not  a  moan  fluttered  from  her  lips.  But  that  smile  remained 
so  long  unchanged,  and  her  eyes — surely  they  were  glazed  ! 

Yes  ! — Rachel  was  dead.* 

*  The  sad  fate  of  Giinther  and  of  his  beautiful  Rachel  is  mentioned  by  Hormayer 
on  his  work,  "  The  Emperor  Francis  and  Mettei-nich :  a  Fragment,"  p.  78. 


G38  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 


CHAPTER    CLXVIII. 

THE  REBELLION  IN  THE  NETHERLANDS, 

The  Emperor  Joseph  was  in  the  Crime  ,  on  ;  visit  to  the  Empress 
of  Russia.  Here  he  witnessed  great  triump]  prepared  for  Catha- 
rine by  Potemkin.  It  was  her  first  greeting  at  Sebastopol  from  that 
navy  which  was  to  confer  upon  Russia  the  dominion  of  the  Black 
Sea. 

Potemkin  invited  Catharine  and  Joseph  to  t  Jinner  served  in  a 
pavilion  erected  for  the  occasion.  The  festivities  were  interrupted 
bj^  the  clash  "f  military  music  ;  and  t.s  the  Russian  empress  and  the 
Austrian  emperor  stepped  out  of  the  pavilion,  the  fleet,  arranged  in 
line  of  battle,  was  before  them,  and  greeted  them  with  u  salute  of  a 
hundred  guns.  As  they  ceased,  Potemkin  turned  to  Catharine,  and 
cried  out  in  tones  of  joyful  enthusiasm  : 

"  The  voice  of  the  cannon  proclaims  that  the  Black  Sea  has  found 
its  misti'ess,  and  that  ere  long  the  flag  of  Russia  shall  wave  trium- 
phant over  the  towers  of  Constantinople  !"  * 

On  another  occasion.  Joseph  was  sailing  around  the  bay  of  Sebas- 
topol, in  company  with  the  empress,  Potemkin,  and  the  French 
ambassador.  As  they  neared  the  fleet,  Potemkin,  pointing  out  the 
five -and -twenty  vessels-of-war,  exclaimed  : 

"These  ships  await  my  sovereign's  word  to  spread  their  sails  to 
the  wind,  and  steer  for  Constantinople  !"  f 

As  Potemkin  spoke,  Catharine's  eyes  were  turned  to  the  south, 
where  Stamboul  still  defied  her  rule,  and  ambitious  aspirations  filled 
her  heart.  Joseph,  however,  looked  down  upon  the  foaming  waters, 
and  no  one  saw  the  curl  of  his  lip,  as  Catharine  and  Potemkin  con- 
tinued the  subject,  and  spoke  of  the  future  Greek  empire. 

For  Joseph  had  lost  all  faith  in  the  brilliant  schemes  with  which 
Catharine  had  dazzled  his  imagination  at  St.  Petersburg. 

The  enthusiasm  with  which  he  had  followed  her  ambitious 
vagaries,  had  long  since  died  out,  and  he  had  awakened  from  his 
dreams  of  greatness. 

All  the  pomp  and  splendor  which  Potemkin  had  conjured  from 
the  ashes  of  r>  conquei-ed  country,  could  not  deceive  Joseph. 

Behind  the  stately  edifices  which  had  sprung  up  like  the  palaces 
of  Aladdin,  he  saw  tho  ruins  of  .-  desolated  land  ;  in  the  midst  of  the 
cheering  multitudes,  whom  Potemkin  had  assembled  together  to  do 
homage  to  Catharine,  he  saw  the  grim-visaged  Tartars,  whose  eyes 
were  glowing  with  deadly  hatred  of  her  who  had  rither  murdered 
or  driven  into  "xilc  fifty  thousand  of  their  race. 

Nevertheless,  he  entei-ed  with  liis  usual  grace  and  afl'ability  into 
all  Catharine's  schemes  for  the  improvement  of  her  new  domains. 
Not  far  from  Sebastopol  she  proposed  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  new 
city,  and  the  emperor  was  invited  to  take  a  part  in  the  ceremonies. 

Amid  tlie  booming  of  cannon,  the  loud  strains  of  martial  music, 
and  the  clieers  of  her  followers,  the  empress  laid  the  first  stone  of 
the  city  of  Caterinoslaw,  and  after  her,  the  emperor  took  up  the 

*  See  "Conflict  for  the  Possession  of  the  Black  Sea."— Theodore  Mundt,  pp.  S53, 
255. 
tibid. 


THE  REBELLION  IN  THE  NETHERLANDS.  639 

mortar  and  trowel,  and  laid  the  second  one.  He  performed  his  part 
of  the  drama  with  becoming  solemnity  ;  but,  about  an  hour  later,  as 
he  was  taking  his  customary  afternoon  walk  with  the  French  am- 
bassador, M.  de  Sigur,  he  laughed,  and  said  : 

"The  empi-ess  and  I  have  been  working  magic  to-day  ;  for  in  the 
course  of  a  few  minutes  we  built  up  an  entire  city.  She  laid  the 
first  stone  of  the  place,  and  I  the  last. "  * 

But  in  the  very  midst  of  tliese  festivities,  a  courier  arrived  with 
letters  for  the  emperor  from  Prince  Kaunitz.  The  prince  besought 
him  to  return  at  once,  for  the  discontent  which  had  existed  from 
the  commencement  of  his  reign  in  the  Netherlands,  had  kindled 
into  open  rebellion,  which  threatened  the  imperial  throne  itself. 
Joseph  took  hasty  leave  of  Catharine,  but  renewed  his  promise  to 
sustain  and  assist  her  whenever  she  put  into  execution  her  designs 
against  Turkey. 

On  the  emperor's  arrival  at  Vienna,  he  found  new  couriers  await- 
ing him,  with  still  more  alarming  intelligence.  The  people  were 
frantic,  and,  with  the  clergy  at  their  head,  demanded  the  restora- 
tion of  the  "■  Joyeuse  Entree.''''  f 

"And  all  this,"  cried  the  emperor,  "because  I  have  summoned  a 
soap-boiler  to  Vienna  fur  trial !" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  but  the  Joyeiise  Entree  exacts  that  the  people 
of  Brabant  shall  be  tried  in  their  own  country, "  said  Prince  Kaunitz, 
with  a  shrug.  "The  Brabantians  know  every  line  of  their  constitu- 
tion by  heart. " 

"  Well,  they  shall  learn  to  know  me  also  by  heart, "  returned 
Joseph,  with  irritation.  "  Brabant  is  mine  ;  it  is  but  a  jirovince  of 
my  empire,  and  the  Brabantians,  like  the  Hungarians,  are  nothing 
but  Austrians.  The  Bishop  of  Frankenberg  is  not  lord  of  Brabant, 
and  I  am  resolved  to  enlighten  this  priest-ridden  people  in  spite  of 
their  writhings. " 

"  But,  unhappily,  the  priests  in  Belgium  and  Brabant  are  mightier 
than  your  majesty, "  returned  Kaunitz.  "Tlie  Bishop  of  Franken- 
berg is  the  veritable  lord  of  Brabant,  for  he  controls  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  the  people  there,  while  your  majesty  can  do  nothing  but 
command  their  ungracious  obedience.  It  is  the  Bishop  of  Franken- 
berg who  prejvidiced  the  people  against  the  imperial  seminaries. " 

"I  can  well  believe  that  they  are  distasteful  to  a  bigot, "cried 
Joseph ;  "  for  the  theological  course  of  the  priests  wlio  are  to  be 
educated  there  is  prescribed  by  me.  I  do  not  intend  that  the  chil- 
dren of  Levi  shall  monopolize  the  minds  and  hearts  of  iny  people 
any  longer.  This  haughty  pi-elate  shall  learn  to  know  that  I  am  his 
emperor,  and  that  the  arm  of  the  pope  is  powerless  to  shield  where 
I  have  resolved  to  strike." 

"  If  your  majesty  goes  to  work  in  this  fashion,  instead  of  crush- 
ing the  influence  of  the  bishop,  you  may  irretrievably  lose  your 
own.  Belgium  is  a  dangerous  country.  The  people  cherish  their 
abuses  as  constitutional  rights,  and  each  man  regards  the  whole  as 
his  individual  property. " 

"  And  because  I  desire  to  make  them  happy  and  free,  they  cry  out 
against  me  as  an  innovator  who  violates  these  absurd  rights.  Oh, 
my  friend !  I  feel  sometimes   so   exhausted  by  my  struggles  with 

*  Masson,  "  M6moires  Secretes  sur  la  Russie,"  vol.  i. 

+  The  "  Joyeuse  Entree  "  was  the  old  constitution  which  Philip  the  Good,  on  his 
entrance  into  Brussels,  had  granted  to  the  Belgians, 


640  JOSEPH    II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

ignorance  and  selfishness,  that  I  often  think  it  would  be  better  to 
leave  the  stupid  masses  to  their  fate  !" 

"Tliey  deserve  nothing  better, "  replied  Kaunitz,  with  his  usual 
phlegm.  "  They  are  thankless  children  whom  he  can  win  who  feeds 
them  with  sugar.  Your  majesty,  perhaps,  has  not  sufficiently  con- 
ciliated their  weakness.  You  have  been  too  honest  in  your 
opposition  to  their  rotten  privileges.  Had  you  vmdermiued  the 
Jot/euse  Entree  by  degrees,  it  would  have  fallen  of  itself.  But  you 
have  attempted  to  blow  it  up,  and  the  result  is  that  these  Belgian 
children  cry  out  that  the  temple  of  liberty  is  on  fire,  and  your  maj- 
esty is  the  incendiary.  Now,  had  you  allowed  the  soap-boiler  to  be 
tried  by  the  laws  of  his  own  land,  the  first  to  condemn  and  punish 
him  would  have  been  his  own  countrymen  :  but  your  course  of  action 
lias  transformed  him  into  a  martyr,  and  now  the  Belgians  are 
mourning  for  him  as  a  jewel  above  all  price. " 

"  I  cannot  make  use  of  artifice  or  stratagem.  With  the  banner  of 
Truth  in  my  hand,  I  march  forward  to  the  battle  of  life. " 

"But,  with  your  eyes  fixed  upon  that  banner,  you  may  fall  into 
the  precipices  whicli  your  enemies  have  dug  for  you.  I  have  often 
told  your  majesty  that  politics  can  never  be  successful  without  strat- 
agem. Let  yoixr  standard  be  that  of  Truth,  if  you  will,  but  when 
the  day  looks  unjjropitious,  fold  it  up,  that  fools  may  rally  around 
it  unawares. " 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right, "  sighed  the  emperor ;  "  but  all  this  is 
very  sad.  I  have  meant  well  by  my  subjects,  but  they  misinterpi-et 
my  actions,  and  accuse  me  of  tyranny.  I  go  to  them  with  a  heart 
full  of  love,  and  they  turn  upon  me  as  tliough  I  were  an  enemy.  But 
I  will  not  I'elent !  I  must  be  free  to  act  as  seems  best  to  myself. 
The  Joyeuse  Entree  is  in  my  way.  'Tis  a  gox-dian  knot  which  must 
be  unloosed  before  Belgium  can  be  truly  mine  ;  I  have  no  time  to 
untie  it — it  must  be  cut  in  twain  !" 

Just  then  the  door  of  the  chancery  opened,  and  one  of  the  secre- 
taries came  forward. 

"Sire,"  said  he,  "a  courier  has  arrived  from  Brussels,  with  dis- 
patches from  Count  Belgiojoso  to  his  highness. " 

"I  liad  ordered  my  dispatches  to  be  sent  after  me,  your  majesty, " 
said  Kaunitz,  taking  the  papers,  and  motioning  the  secretary  to 
withdraw.     "Does  your  majesty  allow  me  to  read  them?" 

"By  all  means.  Let  us  hope  that  they  bring  us  good  news.  I 
gave  stringent  orders  to  Belgiojoso  to  see  that  my  will  was  carried 
out  in  Belgium.  I  bade  him  inform  the  people  that  tliey  should  not 
have  their  precious  soap-boiler  back  ;  that  he  was  my  subject,  and  I 
intended  to  have  him  tried  here.  I  told  him,  moreover,  that,  like 
all  my  other  subjects,  the  Belgians  must  pay  new  taxes  without  ex- 
pecting to  be  consulted  as  to  the  expediency  of  the  measure. " 

"Belgiojoso  has  obeyed  your  majesty's  commands, "  remarked 
Kaunitz,  who  had  just  finished  the  first  dispatch.  "And  the  conse- 
quence is,  that  the  good  people  of  Brussels  broke  his  windows  for 
him." 

"  They  shall  pay  dear  for  those  windows, "  cried  Joseph. 

"  He  told  them,  furthermore,  tliat  in  spite  of  the  eighth  article  of 
their  constitution,  they  should  ])ay  extraordinary  taxes;  whereupon 
they  answered  him  with  the  fifty -ninth  article." 

"What  says  the  fifty-ninth  article?" 

"  It  says  that  when  the  sovereign  violates,  in  any  serious  way, 


THE  REBELLION  IN  THE  NETHERLANDS.  G41 

the  rights  guaranteed  by  the  Joyeuse  Entree,  the  people  are  released 
from  all  obligations  toward  him. " 

"That  is  the  language  of  treason  !"  cried  Joseph. 

"And  treason  it  is, "  returned  Kaunitz,  folding  the  second  dis- 
patch. "The  poeple  collected  in  the  streets,  and  the  burghers,  arm- 
ing themselves,  marched  to  the  palace  of  the  governor-general,  and 
demanded  admittance." 

"And  he,  what  did  he  do?" 

"  He  received  them,  sire, "  said  Kaunitz,  despondingly. 

"And  what  said  he  to  the  insolent  demands  of  the  rebels? — You 
are  silent,  Kaunitz,  and  I  see  in  your  countenance  that  you  have  bad 
news  for  me.  I  know  my  brother-in-law,  Albert  of  Saxony,  or 
rather,  I  know  my  sister  Christina.  From  her  youth  she  has  been 
my  enemy,  forever  crossing  me  in  every  purpose  of  my  life  !  Chris- 
tina was  sure  to  prompt  him  to  something  in  opposition  to  my 
wishes. " 

"  It  would  appear  that  you  are  right,  sire, "  replied  Kaunitz. 
"  The  burghers  exacted  of  the  governor-general  that  they  should  be 
reinstated  in  all  the  rights  of  the  Joyeuse  Entree,  wnthout  exception 
whatsoever. " 

"  Their  Joyeuse  Entree  is  nothing  but  a  mass  of  impertinent  privi- 
leges, which  Christina  herself  could  not  desire  to  concede,"  cried 
Joseph.  "I  am  curious,  tlien,  to  know  how  my  brother-in-law  crept 
out  of  the  difficulty.     What  was  his  answer?" 

"  He  asked  time  for  reflection,  sire— twelve  hours.  It  was  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  morning  w-hen  the  burghers  came  to  him. " 

" Did  tliey  go  quietly  home  then?" 

"  No,  sire.  They  surrounded  the  palace,  their  numbers  continu- 
ally increasing  until  the  place  was  filled  with  armed  men,  supported 
by  thousands  of  insurgents,  who  rent  the  air  with  cries  of  'Give  us 
the  Joyeuse  Entree !    The  Joyeuse  Entree  forever  !'  " 

"Kaunitz,  the  answer  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony  must  have  been  a 
disgraceful  one,  or  yow  would  not  be  at  such  pains  to  describe  the 
clamors  of  the  rebellious  multitude.     Tell  me  at  once  wliat  occuiTed. " 

"Sire,  when  the  twleve  hours  had  expired,  the  burghers  forced 
the  palace  doors,  and  two  hundred  armed  men  rushed  unannounced 
into  the  presence  of  the  duke. " 

"  Well — well !"  cried  Joseph,  breathing  heavily. 

"The  governor  was  obliged  to  yield,  and  to  promise  them  that 
their  constitution  should  be  reinstated.  " 

The  emperor  uttered  a  cry  of  fury,  and  grew  pale  with  rage. 
"  He  reinstated  the  Joyeuse  Entree !  He  presumed  to  do  it !  Did  I 
not  tell  you  that  Christina  was  my  enemy?  She  it  is  who  has 
bi-ought  this  humiliation  upon  me  !  She  has  dared  revoke  what  I 
had  commanded  ! — Oh,  how  those  vulgar  rebels  must  have  laughed 
to  see  that  with  their  pestiferous  breath  they  had  power  to  blow  away 
my  edicts  like  so  many  card-houses  !" 

"  Not  at  all,  sii-e, "  said  Kaunitz,  with  composure.  "  There  was  no 
jesting  among  the  people,  although  they  were  very  happy,  and  passed 
the  night  in  shouts  of  joy.  Brussels  was  illuminated,  and  six  hun- 
dred young  men  drew  the  carriage  of  the  elector  and  electress  to  the 
theatre,  amid  cries  of  'Long  live  the  emperor!  Long  live  the 
Joyetise  Entree  !  '  " 

" '  Long  live  the  emperor  ! ' "  cried  Joseph,  contemptuously.  "  They 
treat  me  as  savages  do  their  wooden  idols.     When  they  are  unpro- 


C42  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

pitious,  they  beat  them  ;  when  otherwise,  they  set  them  up  and 
adore  them  again.  Those  over  whom  I  reign,  however,  shall  see 
that  I  am  no  wooden  idol,  but  a  man  and  a  monarch,  who  draws  liis 
sword  to  avenge  an  affront  from  whomsoever  received.  Blood  alone 
will  extinguish  the  fire  of  this  rebellion,  and  it  shall  be  quenched  in 
the  blood  of  the  rebels. " 

"  Many  a  throne  has  been  overturned  by  the  wild  waves  of  human 
blood,"  said  Kaunitz,  thoughtfully;  "and  many  a  well-meaning 
prince  has  been  branded  by  history  as  a  tyrant,  because  he  would 
have  forced  reform  upon  nations  unprepared  to  receive  it.  The 
insurgent  states  have  some  show  of  justice  on  their  side  ;  and  if  your 
majesty  adopts  severe  measures  toward  them,  they  will  parade 
themselves  before  the  world  as  martyrs. " 

"  And  yet  I  alone  am  the  martyr, "  cried  Joseph,  bitterly — "  the 
martyr  of  liberty  and  enlightenment.  Oh,  Kaunitz,  how  hard  it  is 
to  be  forever  misunderstood  ! — to  see  those  whom  we  love,  led  astray 
by  the  wickedness  of  others  !  I  must  crush  this  rebellion  by  force, 
and  yet  the  real  criminals  are  the  clergy." 

"If  you  think  so,"  said  Kaunitz,  shrewdly,  "then  be  lenient 
toward  the  misguided  people.  Perhaps  mildness  may  prevail.  Bel- 
gium is  united  to  a  man,  and  if  you  enforce  your  will,  you  must 
crush  the  entire  nation.  Such  extreme  measures  must  be  resorted  to 
only  when  all  other  means  shall  have  been  exhausted. " 

"Wliat  other  means  do  you  counsel'?"  asked  Joseph,  irritated. 
"Would  you  have  me  treat  with  the  rabble?" 

"No,  sire,  but  treat  with  the  people.  When  an  entire  nation 
are  united,  they  rise  to  equality  wnth  their  rulers,  and  it  is  no  con- 
descension then  on  the  part  of  the  sovereign  if  he  listen  to  their 
grievances  and  temporize  with  the  aggrieved.  You  have  not  yet 
tried  personal  negotiations  with  your  Netherlanders,  sire.  Call  a 
deputation  of  them  to  Vienna.  We  shall  thereby  gain  time,  the  in- 
surgents will  grow  more  dispassionate,  and  perhaps  we  may  reason 
them  into  acquiescence.  Once  get  as  far  as  an  armistice  with  your 
rebels,  and  the  game  is  yours  ;  for  insurgents  are  poor  diplomatists. 
Let  me  advise  your  majesty  to  dissimulate  your  anger,  and  send 
conciliatory  messages. " 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  emperor,  with  a  deep  sigh,  "be  it  so.  I 
will  do  as  you  like,  but  I  must  for  ever  and  ever  yield  my  will  to 
that  of  others.  Call  a  deputation  of  the  provinces,  and  cite  the 
governor-general  and  his  wife  also  to  Vienna.  I  will  investigate  as 
a  father  before  I  condemn  as  a  judge.  But  if  this  last  proof  of  my 
goodness  should  be  of  no  avail,  then  I  shall  strike  ;  and  if  blood  flow 
in  torrents — upon  their  heads  and  not  mine,  be  the  sin. "  * 


CHAPTER    CLXIX. 

THE    IMPERIAL     SUITOR. 

A  HALF  year  had  passed  away.  The  deputation  from  the  Nether- 
lands had  visited  Vienna,  and  had  been  deeply  impressed  with  the 
affability  of  the  emperor.  They  returned  home,  taking  with  them 
his  assurance  that  their  time-honored  usages  should  be  respected, 
and  that  Joseph  himself  woidd  be  the  guardian  of  their  ancient 
♦Joseph's  own  words.    See  Ilubiier,  ii.,  p.  454. 


THE  IMPERIAL  SUITOR.  643 

rights.  He  merely  desired  to  free  them  from  "certain  abuses 
which  in  the  lapse  of  time  had  crept  into  their  constitution. "  To 
this  end  he  promised  that  an  imperial  delegation  should  visit  Brus- 
sels to  consult  with  the  states. 

The  two  envoys  publicly  sent  by  the  emperor  were  Count  von 
Trautmannsdorf  and  General  d' Alton.  But  to  these  he  added  a 
secret  envoy  in  the  person  of  Count  Dietrichstein,  the  former 
marshal  of  Maria  Theresa's  household. 

"  I  know  that  my  two  ambassadors  will  find  a  wise  mentor  in 
you,  count,"  said  Joseph  as  Dietrichstein  was  taking  leave  of  him. 
"  I  thank  you  for  sacrificing  your  pleasant  home  with  its  associations 
to  my  interest ;  for  no  man  so  well  as  you  can  enlighten  public 
opinion  as  to  my  character  and  intentions." 

"  Your  majesty  knows  that  not  only  my  comfort  but  my  life  are 
at  the  disposal  of  my  emperor,"  replied  the  count.  "I  deserve  no 
credit  for  this  ;  it  comes  to  me  as  a  proud  inheritance  from  an  an- 
cestry who  have  ever  been  the  loyal  subjects  of  the  house  of 
Hapsburg. " 

"  I  wish  that  I  knew  how  to  testify  my  sense  of  your  loyalty, 
and  to  prove  to  you  that  the  Hapsburgers  have  grateful  hearts, "  ex- 
claimed the  emperor. 

"  Sire, "  said  Count  Dietrichstein,  solemnly,  "  it  is  in  your  power 
to  do  so.  If  your  majesty  really  thinks  that  my  family  are  deserv- 
ing of  it,  you  can  confer  upon  us  a  very  great  favor. " 

"Speak,  then, "  replied  Joseph,  eagerly— " speak,  for  your  wish  is 
already  granted.  I  well  know  that  Count  Dietrichstein  can  ask 
nothing  that  I  would  not  accord  !" 

•'I  accept  your  majesty's  kindness, "  saicl  Dietrichstein,  in  the 
same  solemn  tone.  "My  request  is  easy  of  fulfilment,  and  will  give 
but  little  trouble  to  my  beloved  sovereign.  It  concerns  my  daughter 
Therese,  whom  I  shall  leave  behind  in  Vienna. " 

"You  leave  Therese?"  said  Joseph,  coloring. 

"  Yes,  your  majesty.  My  daughter  remains  under  the  protection 
of  her  aunt. " 

"Ah  !  Therese  is  to  be  left !"  cried  the  emperor,  and  an  expression 
of  happiness  flitted  over  his  features. 

Count  Dietrichstein  saw  it,  and  a  cloud  passed  over  his  face.  "  I 
leave  her  here, "  continued  he,  "  because  the  mission  with  which 
your  majesty  has  intrusted  me  might  possibly  become  dangerous. 
Unhappily,  however,  for  young  girls  there  is  danger  everywhere  ; 
and  for  this  reason  I  scarcely  deem  the  protection  of  her  aunt 
sufficient. " 

While  Count  Dietrichstein  had  been  speaking,  Joseph  had  seemed 
uneasy ;  and  finally  he  had  walked  to  the  window,  where  he  was 
now  looking  out  upon  the  square.  The  count  was  annoyed  at  this 
proceeding ;  he  frowned,  an^  crossing  the  room,  came  directly  be- 
hind the  emperor. 

"Sire,"  said  he,  in  a  distinct  voice,  "I  wish  to  marry  Therese." 

"With  whom?"  asked  Joseph,  without  turning. 

"With  your  majesty's  lord  of  the  bedchamber.  Count  Kinsky." 

"And  Therese?"  asked  Joseph,  without  turning  around.  "Does 
she  love  the  count?" 

"No,  sire,  she  has  never  encouraged  him.  She  affects  to  have 
a  repvignance  to  marriage,  and  has  continually  urged  me  to  allow 
her  to  enter  a  convent.     But  I  will  not  give  my  consent  to  such  a, 


644  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

ridiculous  whim.  Count  Kinsky  is  a  man  of  honor ;  he  loves 
Therese,  and  will  make  her  happy.  Therese  is  the  true  daughter  of 
my  house,  sire  ;  a  wish  of  your  majesty  to  her  would  be  a  law.  I 
therefore  beg  of  you,  as  the  greatest  favor  you  could  bestow,  to  urge 
her  to  accept  Count  Kinsky. " 

The  emperor  turned  hastily  around,  and  his  face  was  scarlet. 
"How?"  said  he,  in  a  faltering  voice.  "You  exact  of  me  that  I 
should  woo  your  daughter  for  Count  Kinsky  ?" 

"It  is  this  favor,  sire,  which  you  have  so  graciously  promised  to 
grant. " 

The  emperor  made  no  reply.  He  gazed  at  the  count  with  gloomy, 
searching  eyes.  The  latter  met  his  glance  with  quiet  firmness.  A 
long  pause  ensued,  and  the  emperor's  face  changed  gradually  until 
it  became  very  pale.  He  sighed  and  seemed  to  awake  from  a 
reverie. 

"Count  Dietrichstein,"  said  he,  in  a  trembling  voice,  "you  have 
pointed  out  to  me  the  means  of  serving  you.  I  will  do  your  behest, 
and  urge  your  daughter  to  be  the  wife  of  Count  Kinsky. " 

"  There  spoke  my  noble  emperor  !"  cried  the  count,  deeply  moved, 
while  he  pressed  the  hand,  which  had  been  extended  by  Joseph,  to 
his  lips.     "In  the  name  of  my  ancestors,  I  tliank  you,  sire." 

"Do  not  thank  me,  my  friend,"  said  Joseph,  sadly.  "You  have 
understood  me,  and  I  you— that  is  all.  When  shall  I  see  your 
daughter  ?" 

"Sire,  I  leave  Vienna  this  evening,  and  I  would  gladly  leave 
Therese  an  affianced  bride.  The  marriage  can  take  place  on  my 
return." 

"Very  well, "  said  Joseph,  with  a  smothered  sigh,  "I  will  go  at 
once.     Is  the  countess  in  the  city?" 

"  No,  sire,  she  is  at  the  villa  near  Schonbrunn.  But  I  will  send 
for  her,  and  when  she  arrives,  she  shall  have  the  honor  of  an  inter- 
view with  your  majesty." 

"No,  no,"  said  Joseph,  hastily  ;  "let  her  remain  at  the  villa,  and 
enjoy  one  more  day  of  maiden  freedom.  I  myself  will  drive  there 
to  see  her.  I  shall  be  obliged  to  renounce  the  pleasure  of  your  com- 
pany thither,  for  I  know  that  you  have  important  business,  to-day  to 
transact  with  Prince  Kaunitz. " 

A  distrustful  look  was  the  reply  to  this  proposition.  The  emperor 
divined  the  cause,  and  went  on:  "But  if  you  cannot  accompany, 
you  can  follow  me  with  Count  Kinsky  ;  that  is,  if  you  really  think 
that  I  can  persuade  the  countess  to  accept  him. " 

"I  know  it,  sire.  Therese  will  be  as  docile  to  the  wishes  of  your 
majesty  as  her  father.  As  I  am  ready,  at  your  desire,  to  renounce 
the  happiness  of  accompanj^ng  you  to  my  villa,  so  she,  if  you  speak 
the  word,  will  renounce  her  foolish  fancies,  and  consent  to  be 
Kinsky's  wife." 

"  We  can  try, "  said  the  emperor,  moodily.  But  he  smiled  as  he 
gave  his  hand  to  Count  Dietrichstein,  who,  perfectly  reassured, 
went  off  to  his  affairs  of  state. 

When  the  count  had  left  the  room,  the  expression  of  Joseph's  face 
changed  at  once.  With  a  deep  sigh  he  threw  himself  into  an  arm- 
chair, and  for  some  time  sat  tliere  motionless  ;  but  when  the  little 
Frencli  clock  on  tlie  mantelpiece  struck  ihe  hour,  he  started  up,  ex- 
claiming :  "Eleven  o'clock!  Time  flies,  and  my  word  has  been 
given.     Alas,  it  must  be  redeemed ! — An  emperor  has  no  right  to 


THE  LAST  DREAM  OF  LOVE.  645 

grieve  ;  but  oh,  how  hard  it  is,  sometimes,  to  perform  one's  duty  ! — 
Well — it  must  be  : — I  am  pledged  to  fulfil  the  motto  of  my  escutch- 
eon :  '  Virtute  et  exemplo. ' ' 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  the  emperor  was  on  his  way  to  the 
villa,  which  was  situated  in  the  midst  of  a  fine  park,  not  far  from 
the  palace  of  Schonbrunn.  Joseph  drove  himself,  accompanied  by 
a  jockey,  who  stood  behind.  The  people  on  the  road  gi'eeted  their 
sovereign  as  he  passed.  He  returned  the  greeting,  and  no  one  saw 
how  pale  and  wretched  he  looked  ;  for  he,  like  his  mother,  was  fond 
of  fasfr  driving,  and  to-day  his  horse  sped  like  the  wind. 


CHAPTER    CLXX, 

THE  LAST  DREAM  OF  LOVE. 

Therese  von  Dietrichstein  was  alone  in  the  little  pavilion 
which  her  father  had  built  expressly  for  her.  It  consisted  of  a  parlor 
and  a  boudoir.  The  parlor  was  fitted  up  without  magnificence,  but 
with  great  elegance.  Herein  Therese  was  accustomed  to  receive  her 
intimate  associates.  But  no  one  ever  entered  the  boudoir  without  an 
express  invitation  ;  for  it  was  her  sanctuary  and  studio.  There  the 
countess  was  transformed  into  an  artist ;  there  she  studied  music 
and  painting,  in  both  of  which  she  excelled.  Her  father  and  her 
very  dear  friends  knew  of  her  great  proficiency  in  art,  but  her  repu- 
tation went  no  further,  for  Thei'ese  was  as  shy  as  a  gazelle,  and  as 
anxious  to  conceal  her  talents  as  many  women  are  to  parade  them. 

At  her  father's  hotel,  Therese  received  the  distinguished  guests 
who  visited  there,  with  the  stately  courtesj^  befitting  a  high-born 
countess  ;  but  in  her  little  pavilion  she  was  the  simple  and  enthusi- 
astic child  of  art.  Her  boudoir  contained  little  besides  a  harp,  a 
harpsichord,  and  an  easel  which  stood  by  the  arched  window  open- 
ing into  a  flower-garden.  Near  the  easel  was  a  small  marble  table 
covered  with  palettes,  brushes,  and  crayons.  When  Therese  retired 
to  this  boudoir,  her  maid  was  accustomed  to  keep  watch  lest  she 
should  be  surprised  by  visitors.  If  any  ■were  announced,  Therese 
came  out  of  her  boudoir,  and,  carefully  closing  the  door,  awaited  her 
friends  in  the  parlor. 

To-day  she  sat  in  this  boudoir,  feeling  so  secure  from  visitors 
that  she  had  raised  the  porf  (ere  leading  to  her  parlor,  and  had  flung 
wide  the  casement  which  opened  upon  the  park.  The  sweet  summer 
air  was  fanning  her  brow  as  she  sat  at  the  harp,  singing  a  song  of 
her  own  composition.  She  had  just  concluded  ;  her  little  white 
hands  had  glided  from  the  strings  to  her  lap,  and  her  head  rested 
against  the  harp,  above  the  pillar  of  which  a  golden  eagle  with  out- 
stretched wings  seemed  to  be  keeping  watch  over  the  young  girl,  as 
though  to  shield  her  from  appi'oaching  misfortune. 

With  her  head  bent  over  her  harp,  she  sat  musing  until  two  tears, 
which  had  long  been  gathering  in  her  eyes,  fell  upon  her  hands.  As 
she  felt  them,  she  raised  her  head.  Her  dark  blue  eyes  were  full  Ok 
sorrow,  and  her  cheeks  were  glowing  with  blushes. 

"  What  right  have  I  to  weep  over  a  treasure  which  is  as  far  from 
me  as  heaven  is  from  earth?"  said  she.  "I  will  not  repine,  so  long 
as  I  am  free  to  dream  of  him  without  cringe.  But  what  if  I  should 
lose  that  freedom?    What  if  my  father  should  wish  to  force  me  into 


646  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

marriage  ?  Oh,  then,  I  should  take  refuge  behind  the  friendly  por- 
tals of  a  convent !" 

"Why  take  refuge  in  a  convent?"  said  a  soft  voice  behind  her. 

Therese  sprang  up  with  such  wild  agitation,  that  tlie  harp,  with 
a  clang,  fell  back  against  the  wall.  Too  well  she  knew  this  musical 
voice — it  was  the  voice  which  spoke  to  her  in  dreams  ;  and  as  its 
tones  fell  so  suddenly  upon  her  ear,  she  felt  as  if  a  bolt  from  heaven 
had  struck  her  heart,  and  knew  not  whether  she  would  die  of  ecstasy 
or  fright. 

"Joseph!"  exclaimed  she,  all  unconscious  of  the  word,  and  she 
sank  back  into  her  chair,  not  daring  to  raise  her  eyes.  With  one 
bound  the  emperor  was  at  her  side,  taking  her  hands,  and  pressing 
them  within  his  own. 

"  Pardon  me,  countess, "  said  he,  tenderly,  "  I  have  startled  you. 
It  was  wrong  of  me  to  send  away  your  maid,  and  to  present  myself 
unannounced.  In  my  selfishness,  I  would  not  wait  for  form,  and 
forgot  that  my  visit  was  totally  unexpected.  Say  that  you  forgive 
me  ;  let  me  read  my  pardon  in  your  heavenly  eyes. " 

Slowly  Therese  raised  her  head,  and  tried  to  speak.  She  longed 
to  say  that  she  had  nothing  to  forgive  ;  but  had  not  the  courage  to 
meet  the  glances  of  those  eyes  which  were  fixed  upon  her  with  an 
expression  of  passionate  entreaty,  and  seemed  to  be  gazing  into  her 
heart,  reading  its  most  cherished,  most  consecrated  secrets. 

Did  he  understand  the  language  of  her  agitation  ?  "  Look  at  me, 
Therese, "  whispered  he.  "  It  is  an  eternity  since  we  met,  and  now — 
one  more  look  at  your  angel-face,  for  I  come  to  bid  adieu  to  it 
forever." 

She  started,  repeating  his  words,  "  Bid  adieu — adieu  !" 

"Yes,  sweet  one,  adieu.  Some  wiseacre  has  guessed  the  secret 
which  I  had  fondly  imagined  was  known  to  God  and  to  myself  only. 
And  yet,  Therese,  I  have  never  even  told  myself  how  passionately  I 
love  you  !  My  eyes  must  have  betrayed  me  to  others  ;  for  since  that 
happy  day  at  Schonbrunn  when  I  kissed  the  rose  which  had  dropped 
from  your  hair,  you  have  not  been  seen  at  court.  I  never  should 
have  told  you  this,  my  best  beloved,  but  the  anguish  of  this  hour  has 
wrung  the  confession  from  me.  It  will  die  away  from  your  memory 
like  the  tones  of  a  strange  melody,  and  be  lost  in  the  jubilant  har- 
mony of  your  happy  married  life. " 

He  turned  away  that  she  might  not  see  the  tears  which  had 
gathered  in  his  eyes  and  were  ready  to  fall.  As  for  Therese,  she  rose 
to  her  feet.  For  one  moment,  her  heart  stood  still — the  next,  her 
blood  was  coursing  so  wildly  througli  her  veins  that  she  thouglit  he 
must  surely  hear  its  mad  throbbings  in  the  stillness  of  that  little 
room.  The  emperor  turned  again,  and  his  face  was  grave,  l)ut  calm. 
He  had  mastered  his  emotion,  and,  ashamed  of  the  weakness  of  tlie 
avowal  he  had  made,  lie  determined  to  atone  for  it.  He  took  the 
hand  of  the  countess  and  led  her  to  a  divan,  where  he  gently  drew 
her  down,  while  she  obeyed,  as  though  her  will  had  suddenly  been 
merged  into  his.  She  was  conscious  of  one  thing  only.  He  was 
there  ! — he  whose  name  was  written  upon  her  heart,  thoiigh  she  had 
never  uttered  it  until  that  day  ! 

He  stood  befoi-e  her  with  folded  arms,  and  contemplated  her  as 
an  enthusiast  might  look  upon  the  statue  of  a  saint. 

"Therese,"  said  he.  after  a  long  silence,  "why  did  you  say  that 
you  would  go  into  a  convent?" 


THE  LAST  DREAM  OF  LOVE.         647 

Therese  grew  pale  and  shivered,  but  said  nothing.  Joseph,  bend- 
ing down  and  looking  into  her  eyes,  repeated  his  question. 

"Because  my  father  wishes  me  to  marry  a  man  whom  I  do  not 
love, "  replied  Therese,  with  a  candor  which  yielded  to  the  magic  of 
his  glance  as  the  rose  gives  her  heart's  sweet  perfume  to  the  wooing 
of  the  summer  breeze. 

"But,  Therese,"  said  the  emperor,  mindful  of  his  promise,  "you 
must  obey  your  father.     It  is  your  duty. " 

"  No — I  shall  never  marry, "  returned  Therese,  eagerly. 

"  Marriage  is  the  only  vocation  fit  for  a  woman, "  replied  Joseph. 
"The  wife  is  commanded  to  follow  her  husband.'" 

"Yes,  to  follow  the  husband  of  her  love,"  inteiTupted  she,  with 
enthusiasm.  "And  oh,  it  must  be  heaven  on  earth  to  follow  the 
beloved  one  througli  joy  and  sorrow,  to  feel  with  his  heart,  to  see 
with  his  eyes,  to  live  for  his  love,  or,  if  God  grant  such  supreme 
happiness,  to  die  for  his  sake  !" 

"Therese!"  exclaimed  Joseph,  passionately,  as,  gazing  upon  her 
inspired  countenance,  he  forgot  every  thing  except  his  love. 

She  blushed,  and  her  eyes  sought  the  floor.  "  No, "  said  she,  as 
if  communing  with  herself,  "  this  blessing  I  shall  never  know. " 

"  And  \vhy  not?"  cried  he.  "  Why  should  one  so  young,  so  beau- 
tiful, so  gifted  as  you,  cast  away  the  ties  of  social  life  and  pass 
within  the  joyless  portals  of  a  convent?" 

Therese  said  nothing.  She  sat  ashamed,  bewildered,  entranced  ; 
and,  in  her  confusion,  her  beauty  grew  tenfold  gi-eater.  The  em- 
peror's resolutions  were  fast  melting  away. 

Again  he  besought  her  in  tender  tones.  "  Tell  me,  my  Therese  ; 
confide  in  me,  for  I  swear  that  your  happiness  is  dearer  to  me  than 
my  life."  He  bent  closer,  and  seized  her  hands.  His  touch  was 
electric,  for  a  tremor  took  possession  of  them  both,  and  they  dared 
not  look  at  each  other.  Joseph  recovered  himself,  and  began  in 
low,  pleading  tones  :  "  Look  at  me,  beloved,  and  let  me  read  my  an- 
swer in  your  truthful  eyes.  Look  at  me,  for  those  eyes  are  my  light, 
my  life,  my  heaven  !" 

Therese  could  not  obey.  Her  head  sank  lower  and  lower,  and 
deep,  convulsive  sighs  rent  her  heart.  The  emperor,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  he  did,  knelt  before  her.  She  met  his  glance  of  intoxi- 
cated love,  and,  unable  to  resist  it,  murmured  : 

"  Because  I  love — thee. " 

Had  he  heard  aright?  Was  it  not  the  trees  whispering  to  the 
summer  air,  or  the  birds  cooing  beneath  the  eaves?  Or  had  an  angel 
borne  the  message  from  that  heaven  which  to-day  was  so  radiant  and 
so  silver-bright? 

He  still  knelt,  and  pressed  her  trembling  hands  to  his  lips,  while 
his  face  was  lit  up  with  a  joy,  which  Therese  had  never  seen  there 
before. 

"Have  I  found  you  at  last,  star  of  my  dark  and  solitary  life?" 
said  he.  "Are  you  mine  at  last,  shy  gazelle,  that  so  long  have 
escaped  me,  bounding  higher  and  higher  up  the  icy  steeps  of  this 
cheerless  world?  Oh,  Therese,  why  did  I  not  find  you  in  the  early 
years  of  life?  And  yet  I  thank  Heaven  that  you  are  mine  for  these 
few  fleeting  moments,  for  they  have  taken  me  back  to  the  days  of 
my  youth  and  its  beautiful  illusions  !  Ah,  Therese,  from  the  first 
liour  when  I  beheld  you  advancing  on  your  father's  arm  to  greet  me, 
proud  as  an  empress,  calm  as  a  vestal,  beautiful  as  Aphrodite,  my 
43 


648  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

heart  acknowledged  you  as  its  mistress !  Since  then  I  have  been 
your  slave,  kissing  your  sliadow  as  it  went  before  me,  and  yet  not 
conscious  of  my  insane  passion  until  your  father  saw  me  with  that 
rose— and  then  I  knew  that  I  loved  you  forever  !  Yes,  Therese,  you 
are  the  last  love  of  an  unfortunate  man,  whom  the  world  calls  an 
emperor,  but  wlio  lies  at  your  feet,  as  the  beggar  before  his  ideal  of 
the  glorious  Madonna  !  Bend  to  me.  Madonna,  and  let  me  drink  my 
last  draught  of  love  !  I  shall  soon  have  quaffed  it,  and  then — your 
father  will  be  here  to  remind  me  that  you  are  a  high-born  countess, 
the  priceless  treasure  of  whose  love  I  may  not  possess  !  Kiss  me,  my 
Therese,  and  consecrate  my  lips  to  holy  resignation  !" 

And  Therese,  too  bewildered  to  resist,  bent  forward.  Their  lips 
met,  and  his  arms  were  around  her,  and  time,  place,  station,  honor 
— every  thing  vanished  before  the  might  of  their  love. 

Suddenly  they  heard  an  exclamation — and  there,  at  the  xiortiere, 
stood  the  father  and  tlie  suitor  of  Therese,  their  pale  and  angry  faces 
turned  toward  the  lovers. 

The  emperor,  burning  with  shame  and  fury,  sprang  to  his  feet. 
Therese,  with  a  faint  cry,  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and,  trembling 
with  fear,  awaited  her  sentence. 

There  was  a  deep  silence.  Each  one  seemed  afraid  to  speak,  for 
the  first  word  uttered  in  that  room  might  be  treason.  With  dark 
and  sullen  faces,  the  two  noblemen  looked  at  the  imperial  culprit, 
who,  leaning  against  the  window,  with  head  upturned  to  heaven, 
seemed  scarcely  able  to  sustain  the  weight  of  his  own  anguish.  The 
stillness  was  insupportable,  and  it  was  his  duty  to  break  it.  He 
glanced  at  the  two  men  who,  immovable  and  frowning,  awaited  this 
explanation. 

Joseph  turned  to  Therese,  who  had  not  yet  withdrawn  her  hands. 
She  felt  as  if  she  could  never  face  the  world  again. 

"Rise,  Therese,  and  give  me  your  hand,"  said  he,  authoritatively. 
She  obeyed  at  once,  and  tlie  emperor,  pressing  that  trembling 
hand  within  his  own,  led  her  to  her  fatlier. 

"Coimt  Dietrichsteiu,"  said  he,  "you  reminded  me  to-day  of  the 
long-tried  loyalty  of  your  house,  and  asked  me,  as  your  reward,  to 
advise  your  daughter's  acceptance  of  the  husband  you  have  chosen 
for  her.  I  have  fulfilled  my  promise,  and  Therese  has  consented  to 
obey  your  commands.  She  proTnises  to  renounce  her  dream  of  enter- 
ing a  convent,  and  to  become  the  wife  of  Count  Kinsky.  Is  it  not 
so,  Therese  ?  Have  I  not  your  approval  in  promising  these  things 
to  your  father?" 

'"  It  is  so, "  murmured  Therese,  turning  pale  as  death. 
"  And  now.  Count  Dietrichsteiu, "  continued  Joseph,  "  I  will  allow 
you  to  postpone  your  mission  to  Brussels,  so  that  before  you  leave 
Vienna  you  may  witness  the  nuptials  of  your  daughter.  In  one 
week  the  marriage  will  be  solemnized  in  the  imperial  chapel.  Count 
Kinsky,  I  deliver  your  bride  into  your  hands.  Farewell !  I  shall 
meet  you  in  the  chapel." 

He  bowed,  and  hurried  away.  He  heard  the  cry  which  broke 
from  the  lips  of  Therese,  although  he  did  not  turn  his  head  when 
her  father's  voice  called  loudly  for  help.  But  seeing  that  the  count- 
ess's maid  was  walking  in  the  park,  he  overtook  her,  saying, 
hastily,  "Go  quickly  to"  the  pavilion;  the  Countess  Therese  has 
fainted." 

Then  he  hastened  away,  not  keeping  the  walks,  but  trampling 


THE  TURKISH  WAR.  049 

heedlessly  over  the  flowers,  and  dashing  past  the  lilacs  and  labur- 
nums, thinking  of  that  fearful  hour  when  Adam  was  driven  from 
Paradise,  and  wondering  whether  the  agony  of  the  first  man  who 
sinned  had  been  greater  than  his  to-day,  when  the  sun  was  setting 
upon  the  last  dream  of  love  which  he  would  ever  have  in  this  world  ! 


CHAPTER    CLXXI. 

THE  TURKISH  WAR. 

The  bolt  had  fallen.  Russia  had  declared  war  against  Turkey. 
On  the  return  of  the  emperor  from  his  unfortunate  pilgrimage  to 
Count  Dietrichstein's  villa,  three  couriers  awaited  him  from  Peters- 
burg, Constantinople,  and  Berlin.  Besides  various  dispatches  from 
Count  (Jobenzl,  the  courier  from  Petersburg  brought  an  autographic 
letter  from  the  empress.  Catharine  reminded  the  emperor  of  the 
promise  which  he  liad  made  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  renewed  at 
Cherso7i,  and  aniiounced  that  the  hour  had  arrived  for  its  fulfilment. 
Tlie  enmity  so  long  smothered  under  the  ashes  of  simulated  peace 
had  kindled  and  broken  out  into  the  flames  of  open  war. 

The  Porte  himself  had  broken  the  peace.  Ou  account  of  some 
arbitrary  act  of  the  Russian  ambassador,  he  had  seized  and  confined 
him  in  the  Seven  Towers.  Russia  had  demanded  his  release,  and 
satisfaction  for  the  insult.  The  sultan  had  replied  by  demanding 
the  restoration  of  the  Crimea,  and  the  withdrawal  of  the  Russian 
fleet  from  the  Black  Sea. 

The  disputants  liad  called  in  the  Austrian  internuncio,  but  all 
diplomacy  was  vain.  Indeed,  neither  Russia,  Turkey,  nor  Austria 
had  placed  any  reliance  upon  the  negotiations  for  peace  ;  for  while 
thej'^  were  pending,  the  three  powers  were  a,ll  assiduously  preparing 
for  war.  In  the  spring  of  1788,  the  Austrian  internuncio  declined 
any  further  attempt  at  mediation,  and  hostilities  between  Russia 
and  Turkey  were  renewed. 

Joseph  received  the  tidings  with  an  outburst  of  joy.  They  lifted 
a  load  of  grief  from  his  heart ;  for  war,  to  him,  was  balsam  for  every 
sorrow. 

"  Now  I  shall  be  cured  of  this  last  wound  !"  exclaimed  he,  as  he 
paced  liis  cabinet,  the  dispatches  in  his  hand.  "  God  is  merciful- 
He  has  sent  the  remedy,  and  once  more  I  sliall  feel  like  a  sovereign 
and  a  man  !  How  I  long  to  hear  the  bullets  hiss  and  the  battle  rage  ! 
There  are  no  myrtles  for  me  on  earth  ;  perchance  I  may  yet  be  per- 
mitted to  gather  its  laurels.  Welcome,  O  war !  Welcome  the 
raarcli,  the  camp,  and  the  battle-field  !" 

He  rang,  and  commanded  the  presence  of  Field-Marshal  Lacy. 
Then  he  read  his  dispatches  again,  glancing  impatiently,  from  time 
to  time,  at  the  door.  Finally  it  opened,  and  a  page  amiounced  the 
field -marshal.  Joseph  came  hurriedly  forward,  and  grasped  the 
hands  of  his  long-tried  friend. 

"  Lacy, "  cried  he,  "  from  this  day  you  shall  be  better  pleased  than 
you  have  been  with  me  of  late.  I  have  seen  your  reproving  looks — 
nay,  do  not  deny  it,  for  they  have  been  as  significant  as  words  ;  and 
if  I  made  no  answer,  it  was  perliaps  because  I  was  guilty,  and  had 
nothing  to  say.     You  have  sighed  over  my  dejection  for  months  past, 


650  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

dear  friend,  but  it  has  vanished  with  the  tidings  I  have  just  received, 
I  am  ready  to  rush  out  into  the  storm,  bold  and  defiant  as  Ajax  !" 

"  Oh,  how  it  rejoices  my  lieart  to  hear  sucli  words  !"  replied  Lacy, 
pressing  Joseph's  hand.  "I  recognize  my  liero,  my  emperor  again, 
and  victory  is  tlironed  upon  his  noble  brow  !  With  those  flashing 
eyes,  and  that  triumphant  bearing,  you  will  inspire  yovir  Austrians 
with  such  enthusiasm,  that  every  man  of  them  will  follow  whither- 
soever his  commander  leads  !" 

"  Ah, "  cried  Joseph,  joyfully,  "you  have  guessed,  then,  why  I  re- 
quested your  presence  here  !  Yes,  Lacy,  war  is  not  only  welcome  to 
you  and  to  me,  but  I  know  that  it  will  also  rejoice  the  hearts  of  the 
Austrian  army.  And  now  I  invite  you  to  accompany  me  on  my 
campaign  against  the  Turks,  and  I  give  you  chief  command  of  my 
armies ;  for  your  valor  and  patriotism  entitle  you  to  the  dis- 
tinction." 

"  Your  majesty  knows  that  my  life  is  consecrated  to  j^our  ser\  ice, " 
replied  Lacy,  with  strong  emotion.  "You  know  with  what  pride  I 
would  fight  at  your  side,  secure  that  victory  must  always  perch  upon 
the  banners  of  my  gallant  emperor." 

"And  you  i-ejoice,  do  you  not.  Lacy,  that  our  foe  is  to  be  the 
Moslem?" 

Lacy  was  silent  for  a  while.  "  I  shovild  rejoice  from  my  soul, " 
replied  he,  with  some  hesitation,  "  if  Austria  were  fighting  her  own 
battles. " 

"Our  ally  is  distasteful  to  you?"  asked  Joseph,  laughing.  "You 
have  not  yet  learned  to  love  Russia?" 

"  I  have  no  right  to  pass  judgment  upon  those  whom  your  majesty 
has  deemed  worthy  of  your  alliance,  sire. " 

"  No  evasions.  Lacy.  You  are  pledged  to  truth  when  you  enter 
these  palace  walls. " 

"Well,  sire,  if  we  are  in  the  palace  of  truth,  I  must  confess  to  a 
prejudice  against  Russia  and  Russia's  empress.  Catharine  calls  for 
your  majesty's  assistance,  not  to  further  the  cause  of  justice  or  of 
right,  but  to  aid  her  in  making  new  conquests. " 

"I  shall  not  permit  her  to  make  any  new  conquests!"  cried 
Joseph.  "She  may  fight  out  her  quarrel  with  Turkey,  and,  so  far,  I 
shall  keep  my  promise  and  sustain  her.  But  I  shall  lend  my  sanction 
to  none  of  her  ambitious  schemes.  I  suffered  the  Porte  to  cede 
Tauris  to  Catharine,  because  this  cession  was  of  inestimable  advan- 
tage to  me.  It  protected  my  boundaries  from  the  Turk  himself,  and 
then  it  prodl^ced  dissension  between  the  courts  of  St.  Petersburg  and 
Berlin,  and  so  deprived  the  latter  of  her  powerful  ally.*  But  having 
permitted  Russia  to  take  possession  of  the  Crimea,  the  aspect  of  aft'airs 
is  changed.  I  never  shall  suffer  the  Russians  to  establish  them- 
selves in  Constantinople.  The  turban  I  conceive  to  be  a  safer  neigh- 
bor for  Austria  than  the  hat.*  At  this  present  time  Russia  offers 
me  the  opportunity  of  retaking  Belgrade,  and  avenging  the  humili- 
ation sustained  by  my  father  at  the  hands  of  the  Porte.  For  two 
hundred  years  these  barbarians  of  the  East  have  been  gitilty  of  bad 
faith  toward  my  ancestors,  and  the  time  has  arrived  wdien,  as  the 
avenger  of  all  mankind,  I  shall  deliver  Europe  from  the  infidel,  and 
the  world  from  a  race  which  for  centuries  has  been  the  scourge  of 
every  Christian  nation. "  f 

*Tlie  emi)eror'H  own  words. — See  Gross-Hofflnger.  iii.,  pp.  438,  429. 
fThe  emperor's  own  words.— See  '■  Letters  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  135, 


THE  TURKISH  WAR.  651 

"  And  in  this  glorious  struggle  of  Christianity  and  civilization 
against  Islamism  and  barbarism,  I  shall  be  at  my  emperor's  side, 
and  witness  his  triumph  !  This  is  a  privilege  which  the  last  drop  of 
my  blood  would  be  inadequate  to  buy  !" 

The  emperor  again  gave  his  hand.  "  I  knew  that  you  would  be 
as  glad  to  follow  me  as  a  war-horse  to  follow  the  trumpet's  call. 
This  time  we  shall  have  no  child's  play  ;  it  shall  be  war,  grim, 
bloody  war !  And  now  to  work.  In  one  hour  the  courier  must  de- 
part, who  bears  my  manifesto  to  the  Porte.  No,  Lacy, "  continued 
the  emperor,  as  Lacy  prepared  to  leave,  "do  not  go.  As  com- 
mander-in-chief, you  should  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
premises  of  our  affair  with  Turkey,  and  you  must  hear  both  the 
manifestoes  which  I  am  about  to  dictate.  The  first,  of  course,  de- 
clares war  against  the  Porte.  The  second  is,  perhaps,  a  mere  letter 
to  the  successor  of  the  great  Frederick.  His  majesty  of  Prussia, 
foreseeing,  in  his  extreme  wisdom,  that  I  am  likely  to  declare  war 
against  Turkey,  is  so  condescending  as  to  offer  himself  as  mediator 
between  us  !  You  shall  hear  my  answer,  and  tell  me  what  you  think 
of  it. " 

Lacy  bowed,  and  the  emperor  opening  the  door  leading  to  the 
chancery,  beckoned  to  his  private  secretary.  He  entered,  took  his 
seat,  and  held  his  pen  ready  to  indite  wliat  Joseph  should  dictate. 
Lacy  retired  to  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  and  with  his  arms 
crossed  stood  partly  hidden  by  the  heavy  crimson  velvet  curtains, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  his  idolized  sovereign. 

Joseph  went  restlessly  to  and  fro,  and  dictated  his  manifesto  to 
the  Porte.  Referring  to  his  alliance  with  Russia,  and  the  failure  of 
his  attempts  at  intervention,  lie  went  on  to  say  that  as  the  sincere 
friend  and  ally  of  the  empress,  he  was  compelled  to  fulfil  his  obliga- 
tions, and  reluctantly  to  take  part  in  the  war  which  Catharine  had 
declared  against  Turkey.* 

"Now,  "said  the  emperor,  "take  another  sheet  and  write 'To  his 
majesty,  the  King  of  Prussia. '  " 

"  My  Royal  Brother — 

"It  is  with  feelings  of  profound  regret  that  I  find  myself  forced 
to  decline  your  majesty's  most  friendly  offers  of  mediation  with 
Turkey.  I  am  obliged  to  unsheathe  my  sword,  and  I  shall  not  re- 
turn it  to  the  scabbard  imtil  it  shall  have  won  full  reparation  for  all 
the  wrongs  sustained  by  my  forefathers  at  the  hands  of  the  Porte. 
Your  majesty  is  a  monarch,  and  as  such,  you  are  acquainted  with 
the  rights  of  kings.  And  is  this  undertaking  of  mine  against 
Turkey  any  thing  more  than  an  attempt  to  resume  the  rights  of 
which  my  throne  has  been  dispossessed? 

"The  "Turks  (and  perhaps  not  they  alone)  have  a  maxim,  that 
whatever  they  lose  in  adverse  times,  they  must  win  back  when 
opportunity  is  favorable.  By  such  means  the  house  of  Hohenzollern 
has  attained  its  present  state  of  prosperity.  Albert  of  Brandenburg 
wrested  the  duchy  of  Prussia  from  its  order,  and  his  successors,  at 
the  peace  of  Oliva,  maintained  their  right  to  the  sovereignty  of  that 
country. 

"Your  majesty's  deceased  uncle,  in  like  manner,  wrested  "Silesia 
from  my  mother  at  a  time  when,  surrounded  by  enemies,  her  only 
defences  were  her  own  true  greatness  and  the  loyalty  of  her  subjects. 

*Hubner,  ii.,  p.  468. 


G53  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"What equivalent  for  her  lost  possessions  has  Austria  received  al 
the  hands  of  those  European  courts  who  have  blown  so  many  blasts 
on  the  balance  of  power? 

"My  forefathers  were  forced  at  different  times  to  yield  up  Spain, 
Naples,  Sicily,  Belgrade,  the  principality  of  Silesia,  Parma,  Pia- 
cenza,  Guastalla,  Tortona,  and  a  portion  of  Lombardy.  What  has 
Austria  taken  in  return  for  these  heavy  losses? 

"A  portion  of  the  kingdom  of  Poland!  And  one  of  less  value 
than  that  assigned  to  Russia. 

"  I  hope  that  you  will  not  dispute  the  justice  of  my  resolve  to 
make  war  upon  the  Porte,  and  that  you  will  not  hold  me  less  a 
friend  because  I  may  do  some  injury  to  the  Ottoman.  Your  majesty 
may  rest  assured  that  under  similar  circumstances,  I  should  apply  the 
same  principles  to  myself,  were  I  possessed  of  any  of  your  territory. 

"I  must  also  announce  to  you  that,  for  some  years  to  come, 
diplomacy  must  give  place  to  war. 

"Hoping  for  a  continuation  of  your  majesty's  friendship,  I  am, 
with  highest  esteem,  you  friend  and  brother,  Joseph.  "  * 

The  letter  concluded,  the  emperor  dismissed  his  secretary  and 
threw  himself  into  an  arm-chair. 

"Well,  Lacy,"  said  he,  "are  you  pleased  with  my  letter?  Have  I 
convinced  the  king  that  it  is  my  duty  to  declare  war  against  the 
Moslem?" 

"  Sire, "  said  Lacy,  approaching,  "  I  thank  you  from  my  heart  for 
the  privilege  of  hearing  that  letter.  I  know  not  which  to  admire 
most,  your  majesty's  admirable  knowledge  of  the  history  of  your 
house,  or  the  quiet  sharpness  with  which  you  have  made  your 
statements.  But  this  I  know,  that  had  you  forbidden  me  to  accom- 
pany you,  I  should  have  been,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  rebel- 
lious ;  for  if  I  had  not  been  allowed  to  fight  as  an  officer,  I  should 
have  done  so  as  a  private. " 

"There  spoke  my  Lacy,  my  own  gallant  Austrian!"  exclaimed 
Joseph.  "To  work,  then,  to  work!  Promulgate  your  orders  and 
set  your  men  in  motion.  In  two  days  we  must  have  two  hundred 
thousand  men  on  our  frontiers.  We  must  draw  a  gigantic  cordon 
from  the  Dniester  to  the  Adriatic.  The  main  body,  however,  must 
go  forward  to  Semlin  and  Futak.  We  two  follow  the  main  army, 
and  day  after  to-morrow  we  must  set  out,  and— no, "  said  the  em- 
peror, interrupting  himself,  while  all  the  light  died  out  from  his 
countenance.  "  No — I  cannot  set  out  for  a  week  yet.  I  must  first 
bid  adieu  to  the  last  tie  that  binds  my  heart  (as  a  man)  to  this  life  ! 
That  tie  riven,  I  live  as  an  emperor  and  a  warrior.  Once  in  camp, 
I  shall.  Heaven  be  praised!  forget  all  things  else,  and  be  myself 
again !" 

CHAPTER    CLXXII. 

MARRIAGE     AND     SEPARATION. 

The  eight  long,  weary  days  had  gone  by,  the  preparations  for 
war  were  comjjlete,  and  the  emperor  was  ready  to  join  his  army. 
He  had  worked  day  and  night,  refusing  to  rest,  and  answering  all 
remonstrances  with  a  sad  smile. 

*  "  Letters  of  Joseph  II.,"  page  121,  aud  the  following. 


MARRIAGE  AND  SEPARATION.  653 

"  I  was  not  born  a  sovereign  to  devote  my  life  to  my  own  com- 
fort, "  said  he,  "  but  to  consecrate  it  to  my  empire.  When  I  become 
too  feeble  to  do  my  duty,  I  shall  ask  for  a  pension,  and  retire  to  a 
convent,  like  Charles  the  Fifth.  I  have  no  taste,  however,  for  the 
vocation,  sincerely  hoping  to  die  as  I  have  lived — an  emperor. " 

"But,  sire,"  said  the  imperial  physician,  Von  Quarin,  "your  first 
duty  is  to  preserve  your  life  for  Austria's  sake.  You  have  a  hot 
fever,  and  your  eyes  and  cheeks  are  hollow. " 

"Give  me  a  cool  drink,  doctor,  perchance  it  may  refresh  my 
burning  heart, "  said  Joseph,  with  sad  irony. 

"  Cool  drinks  will  do  no  good  unless  your  majesty  consents  to  take 
some  rest.  Sleep  is  the  sovereign  remedy  of  which  you  are  in  need, 
sire." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  sleep, "  replied  Joseph,  gloomily.  "  Sleep  brings 
happy  dreams,  and  I  hate  them  because  of  their  falsehood !  Who 
would  dream  of  bliss,  to  wake  and  find  it  all  a  lie  !" 

"Your  valet  told  me  that  you  did  not  lie  down  last  night." 

"My  valet  is  a  chatterbox,  and  knows  not  what  he  says." 

"But,  your  majesty,  I  know  that  you  have  not  been  to  bed." 

"  Then  I  slept  in  an  arm-chair !  But  no,  I  will  not  deny  it.  I  sat 
up  all  night,  Quarin,  for  I  had  an  important  duty  to  perform  before 
leaving  Vienna.     I  was  making  my  will. " 

"Your  will !"  repeated  Von  Quarin.  "Surely  your  majesty  does 
not  fear — " 

"  No,  I  fear  nothing— certainly  not  death, "  returned  the  emperor. 
"It  must  be  sweet  to  die,  and  part  from  the  disappointments  of  life  ; 
for  man  either  goes  to  eternal  sleep,  or  wakes  forever  to  eternal 
happiness !  I  am  not  afraid  of  death,  but  I  must  put  my  house  in 
order,  for  bullets  respect  no  man,  and  they  have  never  yet  been 
taught  that  an  emperor  is  not  to  be  approached  without  ceremony. 
One  might  strike  me  on  the  head  and  send  me  to  my  eternal  rest. 
Why,  what  a  doleful  face  you  wear,  Quarin!  'L'Eiupereur  est 
mort! — Vive  VEmperenir!"  I  shall  bequeath  to  you  a  noble  young 
emperor  and  a  beautiful  and  charming  empress.  Is  not  that  better 
than  a  surly  old  fellow  like  myself?  Francis  is  my  pride,  and  his 
sweet  Elizabeth  is  like  a  daughter  to  me.  I  must  then  make  my 
will,  and  provide  for  my  children.  Now,  doctor,  have  you  forgiven 
me  for  sitting  up  all  night?" 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive,  sire  ;  but  I  implore  you  grant  me  one 
request. " 

"You  wish  to  dose  me  with  medicine!  It  is  in  your  face;  you 
carry  an  apothecary's  shop  in  your  eyes  just  now." 

"No,  sire,  I  wish  to  ask  permission  to  follow  you  as  your  surgeon, 
that  if  any  thing  should  happen,  I  may  be  there." 

"No,  Quarin,  you  must  not  follow  me.  I  cannot  be  guilty  of  the 
sgotism  which  would  monopolize  your  valuable  services.  A  soldier 
in  the  field  has  no  right  to  be  sick,  lest  he  be  suspected  of  cowardice  ; 
and  as  for  casualties— why.  if  a  ball  should  strike  me,  there  are  plenty 
of  army  surgeons  who  will  dress  my  wounds  as  they  dress  those  of 
my  men.  Remain  at  home,  then,  my  friend,  and  do  better  service 
by  far  than  you  could  render  me  on  the  battle-field.  Farewell 
now.  In  two  hours  I  leave,  but  before  that  time  I  have  some  im- 
portant business  on  hand.  First,  I  must  go  with  my  will  to  Prince 
Kaunitz." 

"  Did  your  majesty  hear  that  he  had  almost  struck  the  Countess 


654  JOSEPH  II.    AND  HIS  COURT. 

Clary,  and  had  banished  her  from  his  presence  for  a  week,  because 
she  had  pronounced  the  word  'testament'  in  his  hearing?" 

"Yes.  I  was  told  of  it,  and  I  shall  take  good  care  not  to  bring 
down  the  vials  of  his  wrath  upon  my  head,"  said  Joseph,  laughing. 
"  I  shall  not  pronounce  the  word  '  testament, '  I  shall  speak  of  my 
treaty  of  peace  with  life,  and  use  every  precaution  to  save  his  high- 
ness's  feelings.  Strange  mystery  of  life !"  continued  the  emperor, 
musing,  "forever  changing  shape  and  hue,  like  the  nimble  figures 
of  a  kaleidoscope  !  Well,  I  must  use  stratagem  in  this  matter  of  the 
'testament,'  for  Kaunitz  must  assume  the  regency  of  the  empire, 
and  then— then— I  must  attend  a  wedding.  After  that,  the  battle- 
field !  Adieu,  Quarin — if  we  meet  no  more  on  earth,  I  hope  that  we 
shall  meet  above. " 

One  hour  later  the  emperor  returned  from  the  hotel  of  his  prime 
minister,  and  entered  the  imperial  chapel.  He  was  in  full  dress, 
decked  with  all  his  orders.  It  was  only  on  state  occasions  that 
Joseph  appeared  in  his  magnificent  uniform  ;  he  had  not  worn  it 
since  the  marriage  of  his  nepliew  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of 
Wiirtemberg.  But  his  face  was  very  pale,  and  when  he  perceived 
the  bride,  he  leaned  for  one  moment  against  a  friendly  pillar  that 
saved  him  from  reeling.  Tliis  weakness,  however,  lasted  but  a  mo- 
ment, and  he  walked  firmly  up  to  the  altar,  where  the  bridal  party 
stood  awaiting  the  imperial  entrance. 

Tlie  emperor  approached  Count  Dietrichstein,  and  greeted  him 
cordially  ;  then  turning  to  Count  Kinsky  he  extended  his  hand.  The 
bridegroom  did  not  appear  to  see  this,  for  he  cast  down  his  eyes, 
and  made  a  deep  inclination,  while  Joseph,  with  a  sad  smile,  with- 
drew his  hand. 

He  had  not  dared  to  look  upon  the  ti*embling  bride,  who,  seated 
on  a  chair,  and  surrovmded  by  her  attendants,  had  just  recovered 
from  a  swoon.  Her  aunt,  the  Countess  Dietrichstein,  explained 
that  from  Therese's  childhood,  she  never  had  been  able  to  overcome 
her  terror  of  lightning  ;  and  certainly,  if  this  were  so,  she  had  every 
reason  for  terror  now.  The  whole  sky  was  darkened  by  one  dense 
pall  of  heavy  clouds  ;  the  stained  windows  of  the  chapel  were  fiery 
with  angry  lightning,  while  fierce  above  their  heads  the  rolling 
thunder  boomed  along  the  heavens,  and  then  died  away  in  low 
mutterings  that  made  the  earth  tremble. 

There  was  no  time  to  await  the  passing  away  of  the  storm,  for 
the  guests  at  that  hurried  bridal  were  impatient  to  depart.  Tlie 
carriages  of  the  emperor  and  of  Count  Dietrichstein  were  without, 
and  neither  could  tarry  long  in  Vienna.  At  the  altar  stood  Therese's 
uncle.  Count  Leopold  von  Thun,  Bishop  of  Passau,  and  around 
him  was  grouped  a  stately  array  of  prelates  and  priests.  Count 
Dietrichstein  whispered  in  his  daughter's  ear.  She  rose  from  her 
seat,  but  her  light  figure  swayed  to  and  fro  like  a  slender  tree  before 
the  advancing  storm,  and  her  lovely  face  was  pale  as  that  of  a 
statue  just  leaving  the  hand  of  the  sculptor.  Therese's  fear  of 
lightning  was  no  fiction,  and  she  almost  sank  to  the  floor  as  a  livid 
flash  glanced  across  the  form  of  tlie  emperor,  and  enveloped  him  in 
a  sheet  of  living  flame.  Unheeding  it,  he  moved  on  toward  the  un- 
happy girl,  and  without  a  word  or  a  look  extended  his  hand. 
Therese,  trembling,  gave  him  hers,  and  started  when  she  felt  the 
burning  clasp  that  closed  upon  her  icy  fingers.  The  emperor  led  her 
to  the  altar  ;  behind  came  the  aunt  and  father  of  the  bride,  and  be- 


MARRIAGE  AND   SEPARATION.  655 

tween  them  Count  Kinsky,  whose  jealous  eyes  watched  eveiy 
jnovement  of  those  hands  which  joined  together  for  the  space  of  a 
monient,  were  about  to  be  sundered  forever. 

Nothing,  however,  was  to  be  seen.  The  emperor's  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  altar,  those  of  Therese  were  cast  down.  Neither  saw 
the  other.  Only  the  burning  pressure  of  one  hand  and  the  clammy 
coldness  of  the  other  revealed  to  both  the  extent  of  the  sacrifice  they 
were  making  to  the  Moloch  of  the  world's  opinion. 

Now  they  stood  before  the  altar.  The  emperor  gave  the  bride 
into  the  hands  of  the  bridegroom,  and  stepped  aside  to  take  his 
place. 

The  ceremony  over,  the  bishop  pronounced  the  blessing,  and  all 
present  knelt  to  receive  it.  Joseph  and  Therese  were  side  by  side. 
With  a  sigli  they  raised  their  ej^es  to  heaven,  each  praying  for  tlie 
other.  The  emperor's  eyes  were  dim  with  tears,  but  he  dashed  them 
away,  and,  rising  froni  his  knees,  prepared  to  congratulate  the 
bride. 

A  peal  of  thunder  drowned  the  few  words  which  he  murmured. 
But  her  heart  caught  the  meaning,  and  she  whispered  in  return  : 

"Yes,  in  heaven." 

Then  he  dropped  her  hand,  and  addressed  himself  to  the  bride- 
groom. 

"Count  Kinsky,"  said  he,  authoritatively,  "I  wish  to  speak  with 
you  in  private. " 

The  count,  with  a  scowl,  followed  his  sovereign  to  the  nave  of  the 
chapel,  where,  at  a  distance  from  the  bridal  party,  they  were  in  no 
danger  of  being  overheard. 

"Count,"  said  the  emperor,  gravely,  "you  love  the  Countess 
Therese?" 

Count  Kinsky  was  silent  for  a  while.  Then,  suddenly,  he  replied 
in  sharp,  cutting  accents  : 

"  I  have  loved  her. " 

The  emperor  repeated  his  words. 

"  You /(aue  loved  her?    Do  you,  then,  love  her  no  longer?" 

"  No.     I  love  her  no  longer. " 

"When  did  you  cease  to  love  her?" 

"On  this  day  week,  your  majesty,"  said  the  count,  defiantly. 

Joseph  would  not  seem  to  observe  the  look  which  accompanied 
these  words.     His  voice  was  unchanged,  as  he  replied  : 

"  Count,  although  you  feel  resentful  toward  me,  you  believe  me 
to  be  a  man  of  honor,  do  you  not?" 

"I  do,  sire." 

"  Then  I  swear  to  you  by  all  that  is  sacred  to  me  as  man  and  sov- 
ereign, that  Thei-ese  is  as  pure  in  the  sight  of  Heaven  as  its  brightest 
angel.  I  swear  to  you  that  she  is  as  worthy  as  ever  she  was  to  be 
loved  and  esteemed  by  her  husband  as  his  wife  and  the  future  mother 
of  his  children. " 

"  Your  majesty  must  have  formed  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  countess,  to  be  able  to  answer  for  her  purity  of  heart, "  returned 
Kinsky,  coldly. 

Joseph  looked  up,  pained. 

"Ah!"  said  he,  "you  are  implacable.  But  you  believe  me,  do 
you  not?" 

The  count  inclined  his  head. 

"I  dare  not  doubt  my  sovereign's  word." 


656  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Then  you  will  love  Therese  as  she  deserves  to  be  loved?" 

"  Lc^e  is  uot  to  be  controlled — not  even  by  an  emperor.  My  love 
and  hate  are  not  to  be  drawn  off  and  on  like  a  glove  !" 

"  Hate  !"  cried  the  emperor,  shocked.  "  Great  God  !  it  cannot  be 
possible  that  you  hate  the  woman  whom  you  have  voluntarily 
cJiosen,  and  whom  even  now,  before  yonder  altar,  you  have  sworn 
to  love.     Why,  then,  did  you  marry  her?" 

"  Sire,  you  commanded  me  to  do  so  just  one  week  ago,  and,  as  a 
loyal  subject,  I  was  compelled  to  obey.  You  gave  me  no  alterna- 
tive, and  I  married  her. " 

"She  will  make  you  happy,"  replied  Joseph,  in  a  faltering  voice. 
•'I  beseech  of  you,  be  gentle  with  her.  Her  heart  is  not  at  ease,  and 
she  needs  all  your  tenderness  to  restore  her  to  happiness. " 

Count  Kinsky  bowed  frigidly. 

"Will  your  majesty  allow  me  to  ask  a  favor  of  you?"  said  he. 

"  It  will  gratify  me  to  do  any  thing  for  you, "  replied  Joseph,  his 
eyes  lighting  up  with  pleasure. 

"  Then  I  ask  of  your  majesty,  on  your  honor,  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion I  am  about  to  ask." 

"  On  my  honor,  count,  I  will  answer  it, "  said  Joseph,  smiling. 

"What  did  your  majesty  say  to  the  countess  just  now,  and  what 
was  her  reply  ?" 

Tlie  emperor  was  thunderstruck — he  could  not  articulate  a  word. 

"Your  majesty  was  so  obliging  as  to  promise  an  answer. " 

"  Yes,  count,  yes, "  faltered  the  emperor.  "  You  shall  be  satisfied. 
I  said,  'Farewell,  Therese,  I  shall  claim  thee  in  heaven. '  " 

'■  Your  majesty  was  so  condescending  as  to  address  my  wife  in 
this  familiar  strain?    And  her  reply  was — " 

"  Only  these  words,  '  Yes,  in  heaven. '  " 

"  I  thank  your  majesty. " 

They  both  returned  to  the  company.  Joseph  cast  one  last  look  at 
Therese,  who,  pale  and  rigid,  was  receiving  the  congratulations  of 
her  unsuspecting  friends,  and  then  he  addressed  her  father. 

"  Well,  covint,  I  believe  that  our  furlough  has  expired,  and  we 
must  return  to  our  commands.  Farewell !  and  may  we  both  return 
victorious  to  Vienna  !" 

A  half  an  hour  later,  an  imperial  caleche  conveyed  him  to  the 
army,  and  to  Field-Marshal  Lacy,  who  had  preceded  him  there  by 
several  days. 

At  the  same  moment,  the  travelling-carriage  of  Count  Kinsky 
drove  up  to  his  hotel.  Count  Dietriclistein,  before  setting  out,  had 
accompanied  his  daughter  to  her  husband's  residence,  and  had  bid- 
den her  adieu.  Therese  was  now  alone.  She  shuddered  as  she 
heard  Count  Kinsky 's  step,  and  wished  from  her  soul  that  death 
would  release  her  from  the  hateful  tie  which  bound  them  together. 

The  door  opened,  and  he  appeared.  She  uttered  a  faint  cry,  and 
pressed  her  hands  to  her  throbbing  heart.  Count  Kinsky  answered 
the  cry  witli  a  laugh  of  scorn. 

"Are  you  afraid?"  said  he,  striding  toward  her,  and  contemplat- 
ing her  with  a  face  indicative  of  smothered  passion. 

Therese  raised  her  eyes,  and  looked  fearlessly  into  his  eyes  : 
"No,  Count  Kinsky,  I  am  not  afraid,  nor  would  I  fear,  if  you  had 
come  to  kill  me.  " 

The  count  laughed  aloud.  "Ah!"  cried  he,  in  a  harsh,  grating 
voice,  "you  think  that  I  might  do  like  Prince  Bragation  and  the 


MARRIAGE  AND  SEPARATION.  657 

Duke  of  Orleans,  who  strangled  their  young  wives  because  they  sus- 
pected them  of  infidelity  !  My  dear  madame,  these  romantic  hor- 
rors belong  to  a  bygone  century.  In  this  sober  and  prosaic  age,  a 
nobleman  avenges  his  wounded  honor,  not  by  murder,  but  by  con- 
tempt.    I  have  only  intruded  myself  to  ask  if  you  are  ready  to  start  ?" 

'■  I  am  ready, "  replied  Therese,  vvearily. 

"Then  allow  me  to  accompany  you  to  the  carriage." 

"  My  father  having  given  you  my  hand,  I  have  no  right  to  refuse 
your  escort. " 

"  Before  we  go,  be  so  condescending  as  to  say  which  one  of  my 
estates  you  prefer  for  a  residence. " 

"  Select  my  residence  yourself,  count ;  you  know  that  I  have 
never  visited  your  estates. " 

"  Then  I  choose  for  yon  my  castle  in  Hungary,  near  the  Turkish 
frontier,  for  there  you  will  have  the  latest  news  from  the  army  and 
its  commanders. " 

_  Therese  made  no  reply  to  this  sarcasm.     She  bent  her  head,  and 
said  :  "I  am  ready  to  submit  myself  to  your  decision  in  all  things." 

"I  hope  that  the  Countess  Therese  will  not  long  have  to  live  in 
subjection  to  her  husband, "  continued  he,  "  and  that  the  journey 
which  I  am  about  to  undertake,  will  result  happily  for  us  both.  You 
go  to  Hungary,  I  go  to  Rome.  I  go  to  implore  of  the  pope  a 
divorce. " 

"You  are  going  to  sue  for  a  divorce?"  asked  Therese.  "Perhaps 
you  can  spare  yourself  the  trouble  of  a  journey  to  Rome,  count,  for 
I  have  already  anticipated  your  wishes.  My  petition  to  his  holiness 
went  several  days  ago,  and — " 

"  His  majesty,  the  emperor,  was  so  obliging  as  to  send  it  by  an 
imperial  courier.     Is  that  what  you  were  about  to  say  ?" 

Therese  continued  as  though  she  had  not  heard  the  interruption  : 
"My  application  went  through  Monsignore  Garampi,  the  pajjal 
nuncio,  who  promised  to  use  his  influence  in  my  behalf." 

"What  an  edifying  couple!"  exclaimed  Kiusky,  with  another 
scornful  laugh.  "How  congenial!  The  same  wishes,  and,  vmcon- 
sciously,  the  very  same  deeds  !  What  a  pity  we  must  part  so  soon, 
for,  I  leave  you  to-day  ;  nor  shall  I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
again  until  I  bring  you  a  decree  of  divorce. " 

"You  will  he  most  welcome, "  returned  Therese,  calmly.  "Now 
be  so  good  as  to  escort  me  to  my  carriage. " 

"Pray  give  me  your  arm.  I  have  but  one  more  observation  to 
make.  I  hope  that  you  will  now  be  able  to  prove  substantially  to 
the  emperor  that  it  was  quite  useless  for  him  to  shelter  himself  be- 
hind the  words,  'I  shall  claim  thee  in  heaven  !'  But  if  I  may  pre- 
sume so  far,  I  request  that  you  will  defer  these  demonsti"ations  until 
I  return  from  Rome  with  my  letters  of  divorce. " 

Therese  had  no  strength  to  retort.  She  Imng  down  her  head,  and 
large  scalding  tears  fell  from  her  eyes.  Count  Kinsky  placed  her  in 
the  carriage,  closed  the  door,  and  then  returned  to  his  own  travel- 
ling-chariot, which  was  a  few  paces  behind.  The  two  equipages 
thundered  down  the  streets  together,  but  at  the  gates  they  parted, 
the  one  taking  the  road  for  Hungary,  the  other  for  Rome.* 

*This  whole  story  is  historical.  The  "heavenly  Therese,"  as  she  is  called  by 
Hormayer,  was  really  married  and  thus  abandoned  by  her  husband,  who  persisted 
iu  believing  that  the  connection  between  herself  and  the  ennperor  was  not  guiltless. 
But  the  count  met  with  no  success  iu  the  matter  of  the  divorce.    The  pope  refused 


658  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

CHAPTER    CLXXIII. 

THE  LAST  DREAM  OF  GLORY. 

Destiny  was  testing  the  fortitude  of  the  emperor  with  unrelenting 
harshness.  It  would  seem  that  inflexible  fate  stood  by,  while  one 
by  one  this  man's  hopes  of  fame,  honor,  and  love  were  wrested  away, 
that  the  world  might  see  and  know  how  much  of  bittei'uess  and  dis- 
appointment it  is  in  the  power  of  one  human  heart  to  endure. 

In  the  Netherlands  and  in  Hungary  he  was  threatened  with 
rebellion.  The  Magyars  especially  resented  the  violation  of  their 
constitutional  rights ;  in  Tyrol,  too,  tlie  people  were  disaffected ; 
and  Rome  had  not  yet  pardoned  him  the  many  indignities  she  had 
endured  at  his  hands.  This  very  war,  which  he  had  welcomed  as  a 
cure  for  his  domestic  sorrows,  was  yielding  him  naught  but  annoy- 
ance and  misery. 

Yes,  destiny  had  decreed  that  nothing  which  he  undertook  should 
prosper.  His  army,  which  was  encamped  in  the  damp  marshes  that 
lie  between  the  Danube  and  Save,  was  attacked  by  a  malarious  fever 
more  destructive  by  far  than  the  bloodiest  struggle  that  ever  red- 
dened the  field  of  battle.  The  hospitals  were  crowded  with  the  sick 
and  dying,  and  the  enfeebled  soldiers,  who  dragged  themselves  about 
their  camps,  wore  sullen  and  discontented  faces ;  a  spirit  of  in- 
subordination was  beginning  to  manifest  itself  among  the  troops, 
and  the  very  men  who  would  have  rushed  to  the  cannon's  moutli, 
grew  cowardly  at  the  approacli  of  the  invisible  foe  that  stole  away 
their  lives,  by  the  gradual  and  insidious  poison  of  disease.  The 
songs  and  jests  of  the  bivouac  wei"e  hushed,  the  white  tents  were 
mournful  as  sepulchres,  and  the  men  lost  all  confidence  in  their 
leadei's.  They  now  accused  the  emperor  and  Lacy  of  incapacity,  and 
declared  that  they  must  either  be  disbanded  or  led  against  the  enemy. 

This  was  precisely  what  Joseph  had  been  longing  to  do,  but  he 
was  compelled  to  await  tlie  advance  of  the  Russians,  with  whom  it 
had  been  arranged  that  the  Austriaus  were  to  make  a  junction  before 
they  marched  into  Turkey.  The  Russians,  however,  had  never 
joined  the  emperor ;  for  some  misunderstanding  with  Sweden  had 
compelled  the  czarina  to  defend  her  northern  frontier,  and  so  she 
had  as  yet  been  unable  to  assemble  an  army  of  sufficient  strength  to 
march  against  Turkey.  Joseph  then  was  condemned  to  the  very 
same  inaction  wliich  had  so  chafed  his  spirit  in  Bavaria  ;  for  his 
own  army  of  itself  was  not  numerous  enough  to  attack  the  enemy. 
He  could  not  make  a  move  without  Russia.  Russia  tarried,  and  the 
fever  in  the  camp  grew  every  day  more  fatal. 

Instead  of  advancing,  the  heart-sick  emperor  was  forced  to  retreat. 
His  artillery  was  witlidrawn  to  Peterwardein,  and  the  siege  of  Bel- 
grade entirely  relinquished.     Disease  and  death  followed  the  Aus- 

it,  perhaps  because  he  wished  to  prove  to  rebellious  Austria  the  power  of  the  church. 
Years  passed  by  before  the  decree  was  f>btained.  Finally  Therese  deposed  that  she 
was  married  inider  compulsion,  and  tliat  the  storm  had  so  terrified  her  that  she  had 
been  almost  in.sensible  duriuf?  the  ceremony,  so  much  so  that  Bishop  Leopold  von 
Tliun  also  dei)osed  that  he  had  not  lieard  her  assent.  These  declarations  proving  the 
mai-riase  to  have  beiMi  invalid,  the  divorci;  was  granted.  After  the  death  of  Joseph, 
Therese  married  Count  Ma.x  Meerveldt,  the  same  who  in  1797  concluded  the  peace  of 
Campo  Forrnio  with  Napoleon.— See  Hormaycr,  "The  Emperor  Franz  and  Metternich : 
a  Fragment,"  page  180. 


THE  LAST  DREAM  OF  GLORY.  659 

trians  to  their  new  encampment,  and  louder  grew  the  mutterings  of 
the  men,  and  more  bitter  their  denunciations  of  the  emperor. 

They  little  knew  that  while  they  were  assailed  by  physical  in- 
firmities, their  hapless  chieftain  was  sick  both  in  body  and  mind. 
He  shared  all  their  hardships,  and  watched  them  with  most  unremit- 
ting solicitude.  He  erected  camp  hospitals,  and  furnished  tlie  sick 
with  wine  and  delicacies  which  he  ordered  from  Vienna  for  their 
use.  All  militar}^  etiquette  was  suspended  ;  even  the  approach  of 
the  emperor  for  the  time  being  was  to  be  ignored.  Those  who  were 
lying  down  were  to  remain  lying,  those  who  were  sitting  were  to 
keep  their  seats. 

Meanwhile  Joseph  walked  daily  through  the  hospitals,  bestowing 
care  and  kindness  upon  all,  and  no  man  there  remarked  that  the 
deadly  malaria  had  affected  him  in  an  equal  degree  with  his  troops. 
Heat,  hardships,  and  disappointment  had  done  their  work  as  effect- 
ually upon  the  commander-in-chief  as  upon  the  common  soldier; 
but  no  one  suspected  that  fever  was  consuming  his  life  ;  for  by  day, 
Josei:)h  was  the  Providence  of  his  army,  and  by  night,  while  his  men 
were  sleeping,  he  was  attending  to  the  affairs  of  his  vast  empire. 
He  worked  as  assiduouslj'  in  camp  as  he  had  ever  done  at  home  in 
his  palace.  Every  important  measure  of  the  regency  was  submitted 
to  him  for  approval ;  tlie  heads  of  the  several  departments  of  state 
were  required  to  send  him  their  reports  ;  and  many  a  night,  sur- 
rounded by  heaps  of  dispatches,  he  sat  at  his  little  table,  in  the 
swampy  woods,  whose  noxious  atmosphere  was  fitter  for  the  snakes 
that  infested  them  than  for  human  beings  of  whatever  condition  in 
life.* 

One  little  ray  of  light  relieved  the  darkness  of  this  gloomy  period. 
This  was  the  taking  of  the  fortress  of  Sabacz  where  Joseph  led  the 
assault  in  person.  Three  cannoneers  were  shot  by  his  side,  and  their 
blood  bespattered  his  face  and  breast.  But  in  the  midst  of  danger 
he  remained  perfectly  composed,  and  for  many  a  day  his  counte- 
nance had  not  beamed  with  an  expression  of  such  animated  delight. 

This  success,  however,  was  no  more  than  a  lightning-flash  reliev- 
ing the  darkness  of  a  tempestuous  night.  The  fortress  won,  tlie 
Austrians  went  back  to  their  miserable  encampment  in  the  sickly 
morasses  of  Siebenbtirgen. 

Suddenly  the  stagnant  quiet  was  broken  by  the  announcement 
that  the  Turks  had  crossed  the  Danube.  This  aroused  the  army  from 
their  sullen  stupor,  and  Joseph,  as  if  freed  from  an  incubus,  joyfully 
prepared  himself  for  action. 

The  trumpet's  shrill  call  was  heard  in  the  camp,  and  the  army 
commenced  their  march.  They  had  advanced  but  a  few  miles  when 
they  were  met  by  several  panic-stricken  regiments,  who  announced 
that  the  Austrian  lines  had  been  broken  in  two  places,  that  General 
Papilla  had  been  forced  to  retreat,  and  that  the  victorious  Turks  were 
pouring  their  vast  hordes  into  Hungary. 

Like  wildfire  the  tidings  spread  through  the  army,  and  they,  too, 
began  their  retreat,  farther  and  yet  farther  back  ;  for,  ever  as  they 
moved,  they  were  lighted  on  their  way  by  the  burning  villages  and 
towns  that  were  the  tokens  of  a  barbarous  enemy's  approach.  The 
homeless  fugitives,  too,  rent  the  air  with  their  cries,  and  clamored 
for  protection  against  the  cruel  infidel. 

*ln  the  archives  of  Vienna  is  preserved  a  dispatch  of  Joseph,  written  in  the  open 
woods  on  the  night  before  the  taking  of  Sabacz.— Gross-Hofittnger,  iii.,  p.  464, 


660  JOSEPH   II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

No  protection  could  they  fmd,  for  the  Austrians  were  too  few  in 
number  to  confront  the  devastating  hosts  of  the  invading  army. 
They  were  still  compelled  to  retreat  as  far  as  the  town  of  Lugos, 
where  at  last  they  might  rest  from  the  dreadful  fatigues  of  this 
humiliating  flight.  With  inexpressible  relief,  the  soldiers  sought 
repose.  They  were  ordered,  however,  to  sleep  on  their  arms,  so  that 
the  artilleryman  was  by  his  cannon,  the  mounted  soldier  near  his 
horse,  and  the  infantry,  clasping  their  muskets,  lay  in  long  rom-s 
together,  all  forgetting  every  thing  save  the  inestimable  blessing  of 
stretching  their  limbs  and  wooing  sleep. 

The  mild  summer  moon  looked  down  upon  their  rest,  and  the 
emperor,  as  he  made  a  last  tour  of  inspection  to  satisfy  himself  that 
all  lights  were  extinguished,  rejoiced  to  think  that  the  Turks  were 
far  away,  and  his  tired  Austrians  could  sleep  secure. 

Joseph  returned  to  his  tent,  that  is,  his  caleche.  He,  too,  was 
exhausted,  and  closed  his  eyes  with  a  sense  of  delicious  languor. 
The  night  air,  blowing  about  his  temples,  refreshed  his  fevered  brow, 
and  he  gave  himself  up  to  dreams  such  as  are  inspired  by  the  silvered 
atmosphere,  when  the  moon,  in  her  pearly  splendor,  looks  down 
upon  the  troubled  earth,  and  hushes  it  to  repose. 

The  emperor,  however,  did  not  sleep.  For  a  while,  he  lay  with 
closed  eyes,  and  then,  raising  himself,  looked  up  toward  the  heavens. 
Gradvially  the  sky  darkened;  cloud  met  cloud  and  obscured  the 
moon's  disk,  until  at  last  the  firmament  was  clothed  in  impenetrable 
blackness.  The  emperor,  with  a  sad  smile,  thought  how  like  the 
scene  had  been  to  the  panorama  of  his  life,  wherein  every  star  had 
set,  and  whence  every  ray  of  light  had  fled  forever  ! 

He  dreamed  on,  while  his  tired  men  slept.  Not  all,  however,  for, 
far  toward  the  left  wing  of  the  army,  a  band  of  hussars  were  en- 
camped around  a  wagon  laden  with  brandy,  and,  having  much  more 
confidence  in  the  restorative  powers  of  liquor  than  of  sleep,  they  had 
been  invigorating  themselves  with  deep  potations.  Another  com- 
pany of  soldiers  in  their  neighborhocKl,  awakened  by  the  noisy  mirth 
of  the  hussars,  came  forward  to  claim  their  share  of  the  brandy.  It 
was  refused,  and  a  brawl  ensued,  in  which  the  assailants  were 
repulsed. 

The  hussars,  having  driven  them  from  the  field,  proceeded  to 
celebrate  their  victory  by  renewed  libations,  until  finally,  in  a  state 
of  complete  inebriation,  they  fell  to  the  ground,  and  there  slept  the 
sleep  of  the  intoxicated. 

The  men  who  had  been  prevented  from  participating  in  these 
drxmken  revels,  resolved  to  revenge  themselves  by  a  trick.  They 
crept  stealthily  up  to  the  spot  where  the  hussars  were  lying,  and, 
firing  off  their  muskets,  cried  out,  "The  Turks!  the  Turks  !" 

Stupefied  by  liquor,  the  sleepers  sprang  up,  repeating  the  cry.  It 
was  caught  and  echoed  from  man  to  man,  while  the  hussars,  with 
unsheathed  sabres,  ran  wildly  about,  imtil  hundreds  and  hundreds 
were  awakened,  each  one  echoing  the  fearful  words — 

"  The  Turks  !  the  Turks  !" 

"  Halt !  halt !"  cried  a  voice  to  the  terrified  soldiers.  "  Halt,  men, 
halt !" 

The  bewildered  ears  mistook  the  command  for  the  battle-cry  of 
the  Turks,  "Allah!  Allah!"  and  the  panic  increased  tenfold.  "We 
are  surrounded  !"  shrieked  the  terror-stricken  Austrians,  and  every 
aabre  was  drawn,  and  every  musket  cocked.     The  struggle  began ; 


THE  LAST  DREAM  OF  GLORY.  661 

and  the  screams  of  the  combatants,  the  groans  of  the  wounded,  the 
sighs  of  the  dying  filled  the  air,  while  comrade  against  comrade, 
brother  against  brother,  stood  in  mortal  strife  and  slew  each  other 
for  the  unbelieving  Turk. 

The  calamity  was  irretrievable.  The  darkness  of  the  night  de- 
ceived every  man  in  that  army,  not  one  of  whom  doubted  that  the 
enemy  was  there.  Some  of  the  terrified  soldiers  fled  back  to  their 
camps,  and,  even  there,  mistaken  for  Turks,  they  were  assaulted 
with  sabre  and  musket,  and  frightful  was  the  carnage  that  ensued  ! 

In  vain  tlie  officers  attempted  to  restore  discipline.  There  was 
no  more  reason  in  those  maddened  human  beings  than  in  the  raging 
waves  of  the  ocean.  The  emperor,  at  the  first  alarm,  had  driven  in 
his  caleche  to  the  place  whence  the  sound  seemed  to  come. 

But  what  to  a  panic-stricken  multitude  was  the  voice  of  their  em- 
peror? Ball  after  ball  whistled  past  his  ears,  while  he  vainly  strove 
to  make  them  understand  that  they  were  each  one  slaying  his 
brother !  And  the  night  was  so  hideous,  so  relentless  in  its  dark- 
ness !  Not  one  star  glimmered  upon  the  face  of  the  frightful  jDall 
above — the  stars  would  not  look  upon  that  fratricidal  stuggle  ! 

The  fugitives  and  their  infuriated  pursuers  pressed  toward  a  little 
bridge  which  spanned  a  stream  near  the  encampment.  The  emperor 
drove  rapidly  aroimd,  and  reached  the  banks  of  the  river  before 
them,  hoping  thence  to  be  heard  by  his  men,  and  to  convince  them 
that  no  Turks  were  by. 

But  they  heeded  the  sound  of  his  voice  no  more  than  the  sea 
heeded  that  of  the  royal  Canute.  They  precipitated  themselves 
toward  the  bridge,  driving  the  carriage  of  the  emperor  before  them 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  steep  river-bank.  It  wavered  ;  they  pushed 
against  it  with  the  butt-ends  of  their  muskets.  Tliey  saw  nothing — 
they  knew  nothing  save  that  the  carriage  impeded  tlieir  flight ! 

It  fell,  rumbling  down  the  precipice  into  the  deep  waters  which 
bubbled  and  hissed  and  then  closed  over  it  forever.  No  man  heeded 
its  fall  Not  one  of  all  that  crowd,  which  oft  had  grown  hoarse  with 
shouts  at  his  coming,  paused  to  save  the  emperor  from  destruction. 
But  he,  calm  and  courageous,  although  at  that  moment  he  could 
have  parted  with  life  without  a  sigh,  had  made  a  desperate  spring 
backward,  and  had  alighted  on  the  ground. 

When  lie  recovered  from  the  violence  of  the  fall,  he  found  him- 
self unhurt,  but  alone.  Not  one  of  his  suite  was  to  be  seen  ;  in  the 
mad  rush  of  the  men  for  the  crossing,  they  had  been  parted  from 
him.  The  little  rustic  bridge  had  fallen  in,  and  those  who  remained 
behind  had  rushed  with  frantic  yells  in  search  of  some  other  cross- 
ing. The  emperor  could  hear  their  cries  in  the  distance,  and  they 
filled  his  heart  with  anguish  inexpressible. 

Witli  desponding  eyes  he  gazed  upward,  and  murmured,  "Oh, 
that  I  could  die  before  the  sun  rises  upon  the  horrors  of  this  night ! 
My  soul  is  weary — my  every  hope  dead.  Why  did  I  turn  back  when 
death  was  smiling  from  the  crystal  dejiths  of  that  placid  stream? 
Even  now,  I  may  still  find  rest.  Who  will  ever  know  how  the  em- 
peror met  his  fate?"  He  paused,  and  looked  around  to  see  if  any 
thing  was  nigh.  Nothing !  He  made  one  step  forward,  then 
shuddering,  recoiled  with  an  exclamation  of  horror  at  his  miserable 
cowardice. 

"No  !"  cried  he,  resolutely,  "no,  I  will  not  die— I  must  not,  dare 
not  die.     I  cannot  go  to  the  grave  misjudged  and  calumniated  by 


002  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

my  own  subjects  !  I  must  live,  that,  sooner  or  later,  they  may  learn 
liow  faithfully  I  have  striven  to  make  them  happy  !  I  must  live  to 
convince  them  that  the  promotion  of  their  welfare  has  been  the  end 
and  aim  of  my  wliole  life  I"  * 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  rent  in  the  blackened  firmament,  and 
the  moon  emerged,  gradually  lighting  up  the  dark  waters  and  the 
lonely  woods,  until  its  beams  shone  full  upon  the  pale,  agitated  fea- 
tures of  that  broken -liearted  monarch. 

"The  emperor!"  cried  a  loud  voice,  not  far  away.  "The  em- 
peror !"  and  a  rider,  galloping  forward,  threw  himself  from  his 
horse. 

"  Here,  your  majesty,  here  is  my  horse.  Mount  him.  He  is  a 
sure  and  fleet  animal. " 

"You  know  me,  then?"  asked  Joseph. 

"  Yes,  sire  ;  I  am  one  of  your  majesty's  grooms.  Will  you  do  me 
the  honor  to  accept  my  horse?" 

The  emperor  replied  by  swinging  himself  into  the  saddle.  "But 
you,  my  good  fellow,  what  will  you  do?"  . 

"I  shall  accompany  your  majesty,"  replied  the  groom,  cheer- 
fully. "  There  is  many  a  horse  seeking  its  master  to-night,  and  it 
will  not  be  long  before  I  capture  one.  This  done,  if  it  please  your 
majesty,  I  will  conduct  you  to  Karansebes.  The  moon  has  come  out 
beautifully,  and  I  can  easily  find  the  way." 

"I  have  found  viy  way,"  murmured  the  emperor  to  himself. 
"God  has  pointed  it  out  to  me,  by  sending  help  in  this  dark,  lonely 
hour.  Well,  life  has  called  me  back,  and  I  must  bear  its  burdens 
until  Heaven  releases  me." 

Just  then  a  horse  came  by,  at  full  speed.  The  groom,  who  was 
walking  by  the  emperor's  side,  darted  forward,  seized  the  reins,  and 
swung  himself  triumphantly  into  the  saddle. 

"Now,  sire,"  said  he,  "we  can  travel  lustily  ahead.  We  are  on 
the  right  road,  and  in  one  hour  will  reach  Karansebes. " 

"Karansebes!"  mused  tlie  emperor.  " '  Cava  mihi  sedes  !  '  Thus 
sang  Ovid,  and  from  his  ode  a  city  took  her  name — the  city  where 
the  poet  found  his  grave.  A  stately  monument  to  Ovid  is  Karan- 
sebes ;  and  now  a  lonely,  heart  sick  monarch  is  coming  to  make  a 
pilgrimage  thitlier,  craving  of  Ovid's  tomb  the  boon  of  a  resting- 
place  for  his  weary  head.     Oh,  Cava  mihi  sedes,  where  art  thou  ? 

In  tlie  gray  of  the  morning  they  reached  Karansebes.  Here  they 
found  some  few  of  tlie  regiments,  the  emperor's  suite,  and  his  be- 
loved nephew  Franz,  who,  like  his  uncle,  had  been  almost  hurried  to 
destruction  by  the  hapless  army,  but  had  been  rescued  by  his  bold 
and  faithful  followers.  They  had  shielded  the  archduke  witli  their 
own  bodies,  forming  a  square  around  his  person,  and  escorting  him, 
so  guarded,  until  they  had  penetrated  the  dangerous  ranks  of  the 
demented  fugitives.! 

All  danger  was  past,  but  the  events  of  that  night  were  too  much 
for  the  exhausted  frame  of  the  emperor.  The  fever,  with  which  he 
had  wrestled  so  long,  now  mastered  his  body  with  such  violence  that 
he  was  no  longer  able  to  mount  liis  horse.  Added  to  this,  came  a 
blow  to  his  heart.  The  army  refused  to  follow  him  any  longer. 
They  called  loudly  for  Loudon,  the  old  liero,  who,  in  spite  of  his 
years,  was  the  only  man  in  Austria  who  would  lead  them  to  victory. 

*  The  emperor's  own  words. — Hubner,  ii.,  p.  488. 
tHubuer,  ii.,  p.  477. 


THE  HUNGARIANS  AGAIN.  GG3 

The  emperor,  stung  to  the  soul  by  the  mistrust  of  his  men,  gave 
up  liis  last  liojie  of  military  glory.  He  sent  for  Loudon  ;  and  Lou- 
don, despite  his  infirmities,  came  at  the  summons. 

The  old  hero  was  received  with  shouts  of  welcome.  The  huzzas 
reached  the  poor,  mean  room  where  Joseph  lay  sick  with  a  burning 
fever.  He  listened  with  a  sad  smile,  but  his  courage  gave  way,  and 
scalding  tears  of  disappointed  ambition  moistened  his  pillow. 

"  Loudon  has  come, "  thought  he,  "  and  the  emperor  is  forgotten  ! 
No  one  cares  for  him  more! — Well — I  must  return  to  Vienna,  and 
pray  that  the  victory  and  fame,  which  have  been  denied  to  me,  may 
b©  vouchsafed  to  Loudon  !" 


CHAPTER    CLXXIV. 

THE     HUNGARIANS     AGAIN, 

Destiny  had  broken  the  emperor's  lieart.  He  returned  from  the 
army  seriously  ill,  and  although  he  had  apparently  recuperated  dur- 
ing the  winter,  the  close  of  the  year  found  him  beyond  all  hope  of 
recovery. 

Even  the  joyful  intelligence  of  Loudon's  victories  was  powerless 
to  restore  him  to  health.  Loudon  had  won  several  battles,  and  had 
accomplished  that  for  which  Joseph  had  undertaken  the  war  with 
Turkey.  He  had  once  more  rai.sed  the  Austrian  flag  over  the  towers 
of  Belgrade.* 

Vienna  received  these  tidings  with  every  demonstration  of  joy. 
The  city  was  illuminated  for  three  days,  and  the  emperor  shared  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  people.  He  took  from  his  state-uniform  the  mag- 
nificent cross  of  Maria  Theresa — the  cross  wliich  none  but  an  emperor 
had  ever  worn — and  sent  it  to  Loudon  with  the  title  and  patent  of 
generalissimo,  f  He  attended  the  Te  Deum,  and  to  all  appearances 
was  as  elated  as  his  subjects.  But  once  alone  with  Lacy,  the  mask 
fell,  and  the  smile  faded  from  his  colorless  lips. 

"  Lacy, "  said  he,  "  I  would  have  bought  these  last  superfluous 
laurels  of  Loudon  with  my  life.  But  for  me  no  laurels  have  ever 
grown  ;  the  cypress  is  my  emblem — the  emblem  of  grief. " 

He  was  right.  Discontent  reigned  in  Hungary,  in  the  Nether- 
lands, and  latterly  in  Tyrol.  On  every  side  were  murmurs  and 
threats  of  rebellion  against  him  who  would  have  devoted  every  hour 
of  his  life  to  the  enlightenment  of  his  .subjects.  All  Belgium  had 
taken  up  arms.  The  imperial  troo^^s  had  joined  the  insvirgents,  and 
now  a  formidable  army  threatened  the  emperor.  Van  der  Noot,  the 
leader  of  the  revolt,  published  a  manifesto,  declaring  Belgium  in- 
dependent of  the  Austrian  empire.  The  insurgents  numbered  ten 
thousand.  They  were  headed  by  the  nobles  and  sustained  by  the 
clergy.  Masses  were  said  for  the  success  of  the  rebels,  and  requiems 
were  sung  for  those  who  fell  in  battle  or  otherwise.  I     The  cities  of 

*The  conquest  of  Belgrade  was  accompanied  by  singular  coincidences.  The  Em- 
peror Francis  (the  husband  of  Maria  Theresa)  had  Ijeen  in  command  when,  in  1739, 
the  Turks  took  it  from  Austria.  His  gi-andson,  Francis,  with  his  own  hand  fired  the 
first  gun,  when  it  was  retaken  by  Loudon.  In  1780  General  Wallace  surrendered  the 
fortress  to  Osman  Pacha.  In  1789  Osman  Pacha,  the  son  of  the  latter,  surrendered 
it  to  General  (afterward  Field-Marshal)  Wallace,  son  of  the  former.— Hubner,  ii., 
p.  492. 

tTliJs  cross  was  worth  24,000  ducats. -rGross-Hoffluger,  iii.,  p.  500. 

t  Gross- Hofflnger,  iii.,  p.  289. 

43 


GO  4  JOSEPH  II.   AND  HIS  COURT. 

Bz'ussels,  Antwerp,  Louvain,  Mechlin,  and  Namur,  opened  their 
doors  to  the  patriots.  The  Austrian  General  D'Alton  fled  with  his 
troops  to  Luxemburg,  and  three  millions  of  florins,  belonging  to  the 
military  cofi'ers,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  insurgents.* 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  Austrian  emi^ire  toward  the  close 
of  the  year  1789.  The  emperor  resolved  to  make  one  more  attempt 
to  bring  the  Belgians  to  reason,  and  to  this  end  he  sent  Count 
Cobenzl  to  Brussels,  and,  after  liim.  Prince  de  Ligne. 

The  prince  came  to  take  leave  of  the  emjieror.  "I  send  you  as  a 
mediator  between  myself  and  your  countrymen, "  said  Joseph,  with  a 
languid  smile.  "Prove  to  tliose  so-called  patriots  that  you,  who 
endeavor  to  reconcile  them  to  their  sovereign,  are  the  only  Belgian 
of  them  all  who  possesses  true  patriotism. " 

"Sire,  1  shall  say  to  my  misguided  countrymen  that  I  have  seen 
your  majesty  weep  over  their  disloyalty.  I  shall  tell  them  that  it  is 
not  anger  which  they  have  provoked  in  your  majesty's  heart,  but 
sorrow. " 

"  Yes, "  replied  Joseph,  "I  sorrow  for  their  infatuation,  and  they 
are  fast  sending  me  to  the  grave.  The  taking  of  Ghent  was  my 
death-struggle,  the  evacuation  of  Brussels  my  last  expiring  sigh. 
Oh  !"  continued  he,  intones  of  extreme  anguish — "oh,  what  humili- 
ation !  I  shall  surely  die  of  it !  I  were  of  stone,  to  survive  so  many 
blows  from  the  hand  of  fate !  Go,  De  Ligne,  and  do  your  best  to 
induce  your  countrymen  to  return  to  their  allegiance.  Should  you 
fail,  dear  friend,  remain  there.  Do  not  sacrifice  your  future  to  me, 
for  you  have  children."  f 

"Yes,  sire,"  replied  De  Ligne,  with  emotion,  "I  have  children, 
but  they  are  not  dearer  to  me  than  my  sovereign.  And  now,  with 
your  majesty's  permission,  I  will  withdraw,  for  the  hour  of  my 
departure  is  at  hand.  I  do  not  despair  of  success.  Farewell,  sire, 
for  a  while. " 

"  Farewell  forever  !"  murmured  Joseph,  as  the  door  closed  behind 
the  prince.     "  Death  is  not  far  off',  and  I  have  so  much  to  do  !" 

He  arose  hastily  from  his  arm-chair,  and  opening  the  door  that 
led  into  the  chancery,  called  his  three  secretaries. 

"  Let  us  to  work, "  said  he,  as  they  entered. 

"Sire, "  replied  one  of  them,  in  faltering  tones,  "Herr  von  Quarin 
desired  us,  in  his  name,  to  implore  of  your  majesty  to  rest  for  a  few 
days. " 

"I  cannot  do  it,"  said  Joseph,  impatiently.  "If  I  postpone  this 
writing  another  day,  it  may  never  be  accomplished  at  all.  Give  in 
your  reports.      What  dispatches  have  we  from  Hungary?" 

"Tliey  are  most  unsatisfactory,  sire.  The  landed  proprietors 
have  refused  to  contribute  their  shai-e  of  the  imposts,  and  the  people 
rebel  against  the  conscription -act,  and  threaten  the  officers  of  the 
crown  with  death. " 

"Revolt,  revolt  everywhere!"  exclaimed  the  emperor,  shudder- 
ing.    "  But  I  will  not  yield  ;  they  shall  all  submit !" 

The  door  of  the  cabinet  opened,  and  the  marshal  of  the  household 
entered,  announcing  a  deputation  of  Magyars. 

"  A  deputation  !     From  whom?"  asked  Joseph,  eagerly. 

"I  do  not  know,  sire,  but  C^ount  Palfy  is  one  of  the  deputies." 

*  D'Alton  was  cited  before  the  emperor,  but  on  liis  way  to  Vienna  he  took  poison 
and  died  four  days  before  Joseph. 

tTlie  emperor's  own  words.—"  CEuvres  du  Prince  de  Ligne." 


THE  HUNGARIANS  AGAIN.  *  665 

"Count  Palfy  again!"  cried  tlie  emperor,  scornfully.  "When 
the  Hungarians  have  a  sinister  message  to  send,  they  are  sure  to 
select  Count  Palfy  as  their  ambassador.  Show  them  to  the  reception- 
room  which  opens  into  my  cabinet,  count.     I  will  see  them  there." 

He  dismissed  the  secretaries,  and  rang  for  his  valet.  He  could 
scarcely  stand,  while  Gilniher  was  assisting  him  to  change  his  dress- 
ing-gown for  his  uniform.*  His  toilet  over,  he  was  obliged  to  lean 
upon  the  valet  for  support,  for  his  limbs  were  almost  failing  him. 

"Oh  !"  cried  he,  bitterly,  "how  it  will  rejoice  them  to  see  me  so 
weak  and  sick  !  They  will  go  home  and  tell  their  Hungarians  that 
there  is  no  strength  left  in  me  to  fight  with  traitors  !  But  they  shall 
not  know  it.  I  icill  be  the  emperor,  if  my  life  pay  the  forfeit  of  the 
exertion.  Lead  me  to  the  door,  Gtinther.  I  will  lean  against  one 
of  the  pillars,  and  stand  while  I  give  audience  to  the  Magyars." 

_  Giinther  supported  him  tenderly  to  the  door,  and  then  threw  it 
wide  open.  In  the  reception-room  stood  the  twelve  deputies,  not 
in  court- dress,  but  in  the  resplendent  costume  of  their  own  nation. 
They  were  the  same  men  who,  several  years  before,  had  appeared 
before  the  emperor,  and  Count  Palfy,  the  Chancellor  of  Hungary, 
was  the  first  one  to  advance. 

The  emperor  bent  his  head,  and  eyed  his  visitors. 

"If  I  am  not  mistaken,"  said  he,  "these  are  the  same  gentlemen 
who  appeared  here  as  Hungarian  deputies  several  years  ago. " 

"  Yes,  sire,  we  are  the  same  men, "  replied  Count  Palfy. 

"Why  are  you  here  again?" 

"To  repeat  our  remonstrances,  sire.  The  kingdom  of  Hungary 
has  chosen  the  same  representatives,  that  your  majesty  may  see  how 
unalterable  is  our  determination  to  defend  our  rights  with  our  lives. 
Hungary  has  not  changed  her  attitude,  sire,  and  she  will  never 
change  it." 

"Nor  shall  I  ever  change  mine,"  cried  Joseph,  passionately. 
"My  will  to-day  is  the  same  as  it  was  six  years  ago." 

"  Then,  sire,  you  must  expect  an  uprising  of  the  whole  Hungarian 
nation, "  returned  Count  Palfy,  gravely.  "  For  the  last  time  we  im- 
plore your  majesty  to  restore  us  our  rights. " 

"What  do  you  call  your  rights'?"  asked  Joseph,  sarcastically. 

"All  that  for  centuries  past  has  been  guaranteed  to  us  by  our  con- 
stitution ;  all  that  each  king  of  Hungary,  as  he  came  to  the  throne, 
has  sworn  to  preserve  inviolate.  Sire,  we  will  not  become  an  Aus- 
trian province  ;  we  are  Hungarians,  and  are  resolved  to  retain  our 
nationality.  The  integrity  of  Hungary  is  sorely  threatened  ;  and 
if  your  majesty  refuse  to  rescue  it,  we  must  ourselves  hasten  to  the 
rescue.  Not  only  our  liberties  are  menaced,  but  our  moneyed  inter- 
ests too.  Hungary  is  on  the  road  to  ruin,  if  your  majesty  does  not 
consent  to  revoke  your  arbitrary  laws,  or — " 

"Or?" — asked  Joseph,  as  Palfy  hesitated. 

"  On  the  road  to  revolution, "  replied  the  deputy  firmly. 

"You  presume  to  threaten  me  !"  cried  Joseph,  in  a  loud  voice. 

"I  dare  deliver  the  message  intrusted  to  me,  and,  had  /been  too 
weak  to  speak  it,  intrusted  to  those  who  accompany  me.  Is  it  not 
so,  Magyars?" 

"  It  is,  it  is, "  cried  all,  unanimously. 

"  Sire,  I  repeat  to  you  that  Hungary  is  advancing  either  toward 
ruin  or  revolution.     Like  the  Netlierlanders,  we  will  defend  our 
*  This  was  the  brother  of  him  who  was  the  lover  of  Rachel. 


666  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

constitution  or  die  with  it.  Oh,  your  majesty,  all  can  yet  be  reme- 
died !  Call  a  convention  of  the  states— return  the  crown  of  St. 
Stephen,  and  come  to  Hungary  to  take  the  coronation  oath.  Then 
you  will  see  how  gladly  we  shall  swear  allegiance  to  our  king,  and 
how  cheerfully  we  will  die  for  him,  as  our  fathers  did  before  us,  in 
defence  of  the  empress-queen,  his  mother." 

"Give  us  our  constitution,  and  we  will  die  for  our  king  !"  cried 
the  Magyars  in  chorus. 

"Yes,  humble  myself  before  you!"  exclaimed  Joseph,  furiouslj^ 
''You  would  have  the  sovereign  bow  before  the  will  of  his  vassals  !" 

"  No,  sire, "  returned  Covmt  Palfy,  with  feeling.  "  We  would 
have  your  majesty  adopt  the  only  means  by  which  Hungary  can  be 
retained  to  the  Austrian  em^^ire.  If  you  refuse  to  hear  us,  we  rise, 
as  one  man,  to  defend  our  country.  We  swear  it  in  the  name  of 
the  Hungarian  nation  !" 

"We  swear  it  in  the  name  of  the  Hungarian  nation  !"  echoed  the 
Magyars. 

"And  I,"  replied  Joseph,  pale  and  trembling  with  passion,  "I 
swear  it  in  the  name  of  my  dignity  as  your  sovereign,  that  I  never 
will  yield  to  men  who  defy  me,  nor  will  I  ever  forgive  those  who,  by 
treasonable  importunity,  have  sought  to  wring  from  me  what  I  have 
not  thought  it  exjiedient  to  grant  to  respectful  expostulation  !" 

"  Sire,  if  you  would  give  this  proof  of  love  to  your  subjects,  if, 
for  their  sakes,  you  would  condescend  to  forget  your  imperial 
station,  you  cannot  conceive  what  enthusiasm  of  loyalty  would  be 
your  return  for  this  concession.  In  mortal  anxiety  we  await  your 
final  answer,  and  await  it  until  to-morrow  at  this  hour." 

"Ah  ! — you  are  so  magnanimous  as  to  grant  me  a  short  reprieve  !" 
shouted  the  infuriated  emperor,  losing  aU  command  of  himself. 
"You—" 

Suddenly  he  ceased,  and  became  very  pale.  He  was  sensible  that 
he  had  burst  a  blood-vessel,  and  he  felt  the  warm  stream  of  his  life 
welling  upward,  until  it  moistened  his  pallid  lips.  With  a  hasty 
movement  he  drew  out  his  handkerchief,  held  it  for  a  moment  before 
his  mouth,  and  then  replaced  it  quickly  in  his  bosom.  Large  drops 
of  cold  sweat  stood  out  from  his  brow,  and  the  light  faded  from  his 
eyes.  But  these  haughty  Magyars  should  not  see  him  fall !  They 
should  not  enjoy  the  sight  of  his  sufferings  ! 

With  one  last  desperate  effort  he  collected  his  expiring  energies, 
and  stood  erect. 

"Go, "said  he,  in  fii-m,  distinct  tones;  "you  have  stated  your 
grievances,  you  shall  have  my  answer  to-morrow. " 

"We  await  your  majesty  until  to-morrow  at  noon, "  returned 
Coimt  Palfy.     "  Then  we  go,  never  to  return. " 

"Go!"  cried  the  emperor,  in  a  piercing  voice  ;  and  the  exasper- 
ated Magyars  mistook  this  last  cry  of  agony  for  the  culmination  of 
his  wrath.     They  bowed  in  sullen  silence,  and  left  the  room. 

The  emperor  reeled  back  to  his  cabinet,  and  fell  into  a  chair.  He 
reached  the  bell,  and  rang  it  feebly. 

"  Gimther, "  said  he  to  his  valet,  and  now  his  voice  was  hardly 
audible,  "send  a  carriage  for  Quarin.     I  must  see  him  at  once. " 


THE  REVOCATION.  6G7 

CHAPTER    CLXXV. 

THE  REVOCATION. 

When  Quarin  entered  the  emperor's  cabinet,  he  found  him 
quietly  seated  before  his  escritoire,  half  buried  in  documents.  The 
physician  remained  standing  at  the  door,  waiting  until  he  should 
be  ordered  to  approach. 

Suddenly  Joseph  was  interrupted  in  his  writing  by  a  spell  of 
coughing.  He  dropped  his  jjen,  and  leaned  back  exhausted.  Quarin 
hastened  to  his  side. 

"  Your  majesty  must  not  write, "  said  he,  gravely.  "  You  must 
lay  aside  all  work  for  a  time. " 

"I  believe  that  I  shall  have  to  lay  it  aside  forever, "  replied 
Joseph,  languidly.  "  I  sent  for  you  to  say  that  I  have  a  lawsuit  with 
my  lungs,  and  you  must  tell  me  which  of  us  is  to  gain  it."  * 

"  What  am  I  to  tell  your  majesty  ?"  asked  the  physician,  disturbed. 

Tlie  emperor  looked  up  with  eyes  which  glowed  w4th  the  flaming 
light  of  fever.  "  Quarin,  you  understand  me  perfectl^^  You  must 
tell  me,  in  regard  to  this  lawsuit  with  my  lungs,  which  is  to  gain  it, 
myself  or  death  ?     Here  is  my  evidence. " 

With  tliese  words  he  drew  ovit  his  handkerchief  and  held  it  open 
between  his  wan,  transparent  hands.     It  was  dyed  in  blood. 

"  Blood  !"  exclaimed  Quarin,  in  a  tone  of  alarm.  "  Your  majesty 
has  received  a  wound?" 

"Yes,  an  interior  wound.  Tlie  Hungarians  have  dealt  me  my 
death-blow.  This  blood  is  welling  up  from  a  wounded  heart.  Do 
not  look  so  mournful,  doctor.  Let  us  speak  of  death  as  man  to  man. 
Look  at  me  now,  and  say  whether  my  malady  is  incurable. " 

"Why  should  it  be  incurable?"  asked  the  physician,  faltering. 
"  You  are  young,  sire,  and  have  a  sound  constitution. " 

"No  commonplaces,  Quarin,  no  equivocation,"  cried  Joseph, 
nnpatiently.  "I  must  have  the  truth,  do  you  hear  me? — the  truth. 
(  cannot  afford  to  be  surprised  by  death,  for  I  must  provide  for  a 
nation,  and  my  house  must  be  set  in  order.  I  am  not  afraid  of 
death,  my  friend  ;  it  comes  to  me  in  the  smiling  guise  of  a  liberator. 
Therefore  be  frank,  and  tell  me  at  once  whether  my  malady  is 
dangerous. " 

Again  he  raised  his  large,  brilliant  eyes  to  the  face  of  the  phy- 
sician. Quarin's  features  were  convulsed  with  distress,  and  tears 
stood  in  his  eyes.     His  voice  was  very  tremulous  as  he  replied  : 

"  Yes,  sire,  it  is  dangerous. " 

The  emperor's  countentance  remained  perfectly  calm.  "Can 
you  tell  me  with  any  degree  of  precision  how  long  I  have  to  live?" 

"  No,  sire  ;  you  may  live  yet  for  several  weeks,  or  some  excite- 
ment may  put  an  end  to  your  existence  in  a  few  days.  In  this 
malady  the  patient  must  be  prepared  at  any  moment  for  death. " 

"Then  it  is  incurable?" 

"  Yes,  sire, "  faltered  Quarin,  his  tears  bursting  forth  afresh. 

The  emperor  looked  thoughtfully  before  him,  and  for  some  time 
kept  silence.  Then  extending  his  hand  with  a  smile,  he  said, 
"  From  my  soul  I  thank  you  for  the  manly  frankness  with  which  you 

♦Joseph's  own  words.—"  Characteristics  of  Joseph  H.,"  p.  14. 


668  JOSEPH   II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

have  treated  me,  Quarin,  and  I  desire  now  to  give  you  a  testimony 
of  my  gratitude.     You  have  children,  have  you  not?" 

"Yes,  sire — two  daugliters." 

"And  j'ou  are  not  rich,  I  believe?" 

"The  salary  which  I  receive  from  your  majesty,  united  to  my 
practice,  affords  us  a  comfortable  independence." 

The  emperor  nodded.  "  You  must  do  a  little  commission  for  me, " 
said  he,  turning  to  the  escritoire  and  writing  a  few  lines,  which  he 
presented  to  Quarin. 

"Take  this  pajjer  to  the  court  chancery  and  present  it  to  the 
bureau  of  finances.  Yovi  will  there  receive  ten  thousand  florins 
wherewith  to  portion  your  daughters. " 

"Oh,  sire  !"  exclaimed  Quarin,  deeply  moved,  "I  thank  you  with 
all  the  strength  of  my  paternal  heart. " 

"No,"  replied  Joseph,  gently,  "it  is  my  duty  to  reward  merit.* 
In  addition  to  this,  I  would  wish  to  leave  you  a  personal  souvenir  of 
my  friendship.  I  bestow  upon  you,  as  a  last  token  of  my  affection, 
the  title  of  freilierr,  and  I  will  take  out  the  patent  for  you  myself. 
Not  a  word,  dear  friend,  not  a  word  !  Leave  me  now^  for  I  must 
w^ork  diligently.  Since  my  hours  are  numbered,  I  must  make  the 
most  of  them.  Farewell !  Who  knows  how  soon  I  may  have  to  re- 
call you  here?" 

The  physician  kissed  the  emperor's  hand  with  fervor,  and  turned 
hastily  away.  Joseph  sank  back  in  the  chair.  His  large  eyes  were 
raised  to  heaven,  and  his  wan  face  beamed  with  something  brighter 
tlian  resignation. 

At  that  moment  the  door  of  the  chancery  was  opened,  and  the 
first  privy-councillor  came  hastily  forward. 

"  What  is  it?"  said  Joseph,  with  a  slight  start. 

"  Sire,  two  couriers  have  just  arrived.  The  first  is  from  the  Count 
Cobenzl.  He  announces  that  all  Belgivim,  with  the  exception  of 
Luxemburg,  is  in  the  hands  of  the  patriots  ;  that  Van  der  Noot  has 
called  a  convention  of  the  United  Provinces,  which  has  declared 
Belgium  a  republic  ;  her  independence  is  to  be  guaranteed  by  Eng- 
land, Prussia,  and  Holland.  Count  Cobenzl  is  urgent  in  his  request 
for  instructions.      He  is  totally  at  a  loss  what  to  do." 

The  emperor  had  listened  with  mournful  tranquillity.  "  And  the 
second  courier?"  said  he. 

"The  second  courier,  sire,  comes  from  the  imperial  stadtholder 
of  Tyrol. " 

"What  says  he?" 

"He  brings  evil  tidings,  sire.  The  people  have  rebelled,  and  cry 
out  against  the  conscription  and  the  cluirch  reforms.  Unless  these 
laws  are  repealed,  there  is  danger  of  revolution. " 

The  emperor  uttered  a  piercing  cry,  and  pressed  his  hands  to  his 
breast.  "  It  is  nothing, "  said  he,  in  reply  to  the  anxious  and  alarmed 
looks  of  the  privy-councillor.  "A  momentary  pang,  which  has 
already  passed  aw^ay — nothing  more.     Continue  your  report. " 

"  This  is  all,  your  majesty.  The  stadtholder  entreats  you  to  quiet 
this  rebellion  and' — " 

"And  to  revoke  my  decrees,  is  it  not  so?  The  same  croaking 
whicli  for  eight  years  has  been  dinned  into  my  ears.  Well— I  must 
have  time  to  reflect,  and  as  soon  as  I  sliall  have  determined  upon  my 
course  of  action,  you  sliall  learn  my  decision. 

*  These  are  the  emperor's  words.    This  scene  is  historical.— Hubner,  ii.,  p.  406. 


THE  REVOCATION.  6f;9 

"  Rebellion  in  Tyrol,  in  Hungary,  in  the  Netherlands  !"  murmured 
the  emperor,  when  he  found  himself  alone.  "  From  every  side  I 
hear  my  death-knell !  My  people  would  bury  me  ere  I  have  drawn 
my  last  sigh.  My  great  ancestor,  Charles,  stood  beside  his  open 
grave,  and  voluntarily  contemplated  his  last  resting-place  ;  but  I ! 
unhappy  monarch,  am  forced  into  mine  by  the  ingratitude  of  a 
people  for  whom  alone  I  have  lived!  Is  it  indeed  so?  Must  I  die 
with  the  mournful  conviction  that  I  have  lived  in  vain?  O  my  God, 
what  excess  of  humiliation  Thou  hast  forced  upon  me  !  And  what 
have  I  done  to  deserve  such  a  fate?  Wherein  have  I  sinned,  that  my 
imperial  crown  should  have  been  lined  with  so  many  cruel  thorns? 
Is  there  no  remedy ?  must  I  drink  this  last  bitter  chalice?  Must  I 
revoke  that  Avhich  I  have  published  to  the  world  as  my  sovereign 
will?" 

He  ceased,  and  folding  his  arms,  faced  his  difficult  position. 
For  one  hour  lie  sat  motionless,  his  face  growing  gradually  paler,  his 
brow  darker,  his  lips  more  rigidly  compressed  together. 

At  length  he  heaved  one  long,  convulsive  sigh.  "  No — there  is  no 
other  remedy.  I  have  toiled  in  vain — my  beautiful  sti-ucture  has 
fallen,  and  my  grave  is  under  its  ruins  !  O  my  God,  why  may  I  not 
have  a  few  months  more  of  life,  wherewith  to  crush  these  aspiring 
rebels? — But  no!  I  must  die  nov/,  and  leave  them  to  triumph  over 
my  defeat ;  for  I  dare  not  leave  to  my  successor  tlie  accursed  inheri- 
tance of  civil  war.  To  the  last  hour  of  my  life  I  must  humble  my 
will  before  the  decree  of  that  cruel  destiny  which  has  persecuted  me 
from  boyhood  !  Be  it  so  ! — I  must  clutch  at  the  remedy — the  fearful 
remedy — I  must  revoke  !" 

He  shuddered,  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  There  had 
been  one  struggle  with  his  will,  there  was  now  another  with  his 
despair.  He  moaned  aloud — scalding  tears  trickled  through  his  poor, 
wasted  fingers,  and  his  whole  being  bowed  before  the  supremacy  of 
this  last  great  sorrow.  Once — only  once,  he  uttered  a  sliarp  cry,  and 
for  a  moment  his  convulsed  countenance  was  raised  to  heaven. 
Then  his  head  fell  upon  the  table,  and  his  wretcheness  found  vent 
in  low,  heart-rending  sobs. 

And  thus  he  spent  another  long  hour.  Finally  he  looked  up  to 
heaven  and  tried  to  murmur  a  few  words  of  resignation.^  But  the 
spectre  of  his  useless  strivings  still  haunted  his  mind.  "All  my 
plans  to  be  buried  in  the  grave — not  one  trace  of  my  reign  left  to 
posterity !"  sighed  the  unhappy  monarch.  "  But  enough  of  re- 
pining. I  have  resolved  to  make  the  sacrifice — it  is  time  to 
act !" 

He  clutched  his  bell,  and  ordered  a  page  to  summon  the  privy- 
councillor  from  the  adjoining  room. 

"  Now, "  said  the  emperor,  "  let  us  work.  My  hand  is  too  tremu- 
lous to  hold  a  pen  ;  you  must  write  for  me.  First,  in  regard  to 
Hungary.  Draw  tip  a  manifesto,  in  which  I  restore  their  constitu- 
tion in  all  its  integrity. " 

He  paused  for  a  few  moments,  and  wiped  the  large  drops  of  cold 
sweat  which  were  gathering  over  his  forehead.  "Do  you  hear?" 
continued  he ;  "  I  revoke  all  my  laws  except  one,  and  that  is,  the 
edict  of  religious  toleration.  I  promise  to  convoke  the  imperial 
diet,  and  to  replace  the  administration  of  justice  upon  its  old  foot- 
ing. I  repeal  the  laws  relating  tt)  taxes  and  conscription,  I  order  the 
Hungarian  crown  to  be  returned  to  Ofen,  and,  as  soon  as  I  shall  have 


670  JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

recovered  from  my  illness,  I  promise  to  take  the  coronation-oath.* 
Write  this  out  and  bring  it  to  ine  for  signature.  Then  deliver  it 
into  the  hands  )f  Count  Palfy.  He  will  publish  it  to  the  Hun- 
garians. 

"  So  much  for  Hungary  ! — Now  for  Tyrol.  Draw  up  a  second 
manifesto.  I  repeal  the  conscription -act,  as  well  as  all  my  reforms 
with  respect  to  the  church.  Wlien  this  is  ready,  bring  it  to  me  for 
signature ;  and  dispatch  a  courier  with  it  to  the  imperial  stadt- 
hokler.  Having  satisfied  the  exactions  of  Hungary  and  Tyrol,  it 
remains  to  restore  order  in  the  Netherlands.  But  there,  matters  are 
more  complicated,  and  I  fear  tliat  no  concession  on  my  part  will 
avail  at  this  late  hour.  I  must  trample  my  personal  pride  in  the 
dust,  then,  and  humble  myself  before  the  pope  !  Yes — before  the 
pope  !  I  will  write,  requesting  him  to  act  as  mediator,  and  beg  his 
holiness  to  admonish  the  clergy  to  make  peace  with  me.f  Why  do 
you  look  so  sad,  my  friend?  I  am  making  my  peace  with  the  world  ; 
I  am  drawing  a  pen  across  the  events  of  my  life  and  blotting  out  my 
reforms  with  ink.  Make  out  these  documents  at  once,  and  send  me 
a  courier  for  Rome.  Meanwhile  I  will  write  to  the  pope.  Appearing 
before  him  as  a  petitioner,  it  is  incumbent  upon  me  to  send  an  auto- 
graphic letter.     Return  to  me  in  an  hour. " 

When,  one  hour  later,  the  privy -councillor  re-entered  the  cabinet, 
the  letter  to  the  pope  lay  folded  and  addressed  on  the  table.  But 
this  last  humiliation  had  been  too  much  for  the  proud  spirit  of  the 
emjjeror  to  brook. 

He  lay  insensible  in  his  chair,  a  stream  of  blood  oozing  slowly 
from  his  ghastly  lips. 


CHAPTER    CLXXVI. 

THE     DEATH     OF     THE     MARTYR. 

He  had  made  his  peace  with  the  world  and  with  God  !  He  had 
taken  leave  of  his  family,  his  friends,  and  his  attendants.  He  had 
made  his  last  confession,  and  had  received  the  sacraments  of  the 
church. 

His  struggles  were  at  an  end.  All  sorrow  overcome,  he  lay  happy 
and  tranquil  on  his  death-bed,  no  more  word  of  complaint  passing 
the  lips  wliich  had  been  consecrated  to  the  Lord.  He  comforted  his 
weeping  relatives,  and  had  a  word  of  affectionate  greeting  for  every 
one  wiio  approached  him.  With  his  own  feeble  hand  he  wrote  fare- 
well letters  to  his  absent  sisters,  to  Prince  Kaunitz,  and  to  several 
ladies  for  whom  he  had  an  especial  regard  ;  and  on  the  seventeenth 
of  February  he    igned  his  name  eighty  times. 

He  felt  that  his  end  was  very  near  ;  and  when  Lacy  and  Rosen- 
berg, who  were  to  pass  the  night  with  him,  entered  his  bedchamber, 
he  signed  them  to  approach. 

"  It  will  soon  be  over, "  whispered  he.  "  The  lamp  will  shortly  be 
extinguished.  Hush !  do  not  weep — you  grieve  me.  Let  us  part 
from  each  other  with  fortitude." 

*This  is  the  revocation-edict,  which,  promulgated  a  few  weeks  before  the  death 
of  Joseph,  caused  such  astonishment  throughout  Europe.— Gross-Hofflnger,  iii.,  p. 
290. 

+  Gross-HofBnger,  iii.,  p.  279. 


THE   DEATH  OF  THE  MARTYR  G71 

"  Alas,  how  can  we  part  with  fortitude,  when  our  parting  is  for 
life !"  said  Lacy. 

The  emperor  raised  his  eyes,  and  looked  thoughtfully  up  to 
heaven.  "  We  shall  meet  again, "  said  he,  after  a  pause.  "  I  believe 
in  another  and  a  better  world,  where  I  shall  find  compensation  for 
all  that  I  have  endured  here  below." 

"  And  where  punishment  awaits  those  who  have  been  the  cause  of 
your  sorrows, "  returned  Rosenberg. 

"I  have  forgiven  them  all,"  said  the  dying  monarch.  "There  is 
no  room  in  my  heart  for  resentment,  dear  friends.  I  have  honestly 
striven  to  make  my  siibjects  liappy,  and  feel  no  animosity  toward 
them  for  refusing  the  boon  I  proffered.  I  should  like  to  have  inscribed 
upon  my  tomb,  'Here  lies  prince  whose  intentions  were  pure,  but 
who  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  fail  in  every  honest  undertaking  of  his 
life. '     Oh,  how  mistaken  was  the  poet,  who  wrote, 

'  Et  du  trone  au  cercueil  le  passage  est  terrible  ! ' 

"  I  do  not  deplore  the  loss  of  my  throne,  but  I  feel  some  lingering 
regret  that  I  should  have  made  so  few  of  my  fellow-beings  happy — 
so  many  of  them  ungrateful.  This,  however,  is  the  usual  lot  of 
princes !"  * 

"  It  is  the  lot  of  all  those  who  are  too  enlightened  for  their  times  ! 
It  is  the  lot  of  all  great  men  who  would  elevate  and  ennoble  the 
masses  !"  cried  Lacy.  "  It  is  the  fate  of  greatness  to  be  the  martyr 
of  stupidity,  bigotry,  and  malice  !" 

"Yes,  that  is  the  word,"  said  Joseph,  smiling.  "I  am  a  martyr, 
but  nobody  will  honor  my  relics. " 

"Yes,  beloved  sovereign, "  cried  Rosenberg,  weeping,  "your maj- 
esty's love  we  shall  bear  about  our  hearts,  as  the  devotee  wears  the 
relic  of  a  marytred  saint. " 

" Do  not  weep  so, "  said  Joseph.  "We  have  spent  so  many  happy 
days  together,  that  we  must  pass  the  few  fleeting  hoUrs  remaining 
to  us  in  rational  intercourse.  Show  me  a  cheerful  countenance, 
Rosenberg — you  from  whose  hands  I  received  my  last  cup  of  earthly 
comfort.  What  blessed  tidings  you  brought  me!  My  sweet  Eliza- 
beth is  a  mother,  and  I  shall  carry  the  consciousness  of  her  happiness 
to  the  grave.  I  shall  die  with  o)ie  joy  at  my  heart — a  beautiful  hope 
shall  blossom  as  I  fall ! — Elizabeth  is  yovxr  future  empress  ;  love  her 
for  my  sake  ;  you  know  how  unspeakably  dear  she  is  to  me.  And, 
now  that  I  think  of  it,  I  have  not  heard  from  her  since  this  morn- 
ing.    How  is  she?" 

The  two  friends  were  silent,  and  cast  down  their  eyes. 

"Lacy!"  cried  the  emperor,  and  over  his  inspired  features  there 
passed  a  shade  of  human  sorrow.  "  Lacy,  speak — you  are  silent — 
O  God,  what  has  happened?  Rosenberg,  tell  me,  oh  tell  me,  how  is 
my  Elizabeth,  my  darling  daugliter?" 

So  great  were  his  anxiety  and  distress,  that  he  half  rose  in  his 
bed.  They  would  not  meet  his  glance,  but  Rosenberg  in  a  low  voice 
replied  : 

"  The  archduchess  is  very  sick.     The  labor  was  long  and  painful. " 

"Ah,  she  is  dead  !"  exclaimed  Joseph,  "she  is  dead,  is  she  not?" 

Neither  of  his  weeping  friends  spoke  a  word,  but  the  emperor 
comprehended  their  silence. 

*  The  emperor's  own  words.—"  Characteristics  of  Joseph  II.,"  p.  23, 


672  JOSEPH  II.  AND   HIS  COURT. 

Falling  back  upon  his  pillow,  he  raised  his  wasted  arms  to 
heaven.  "OGod,  Tliy  will  be  done  !  but  my  sufferings  are  beyond 
expression  !  I  thovight  that  I  had  outlived  sorrow  ;  but  the  stroke 
which  has  come  to  imbitter  my  last  moments  exceeds  all  that  I  have 
endured  throughout  a  life  of  uncheckered  misery  !"  * 

For  a  long  time  he  lay  cold  and  rigid.  Then  raising  himself  upon 
his  arm,  he  signed  to  Rosenberg  to  approach.  His  eyes  beamed  as 
of  erst,  and  his  whole  demeanor  was  that  of  a  sovereign  who  had 
learned,  above  all  things,  to  control  himself. 

"  She  must  be  buried  with  all  the  tenderness  and  honor  of  which 
she  was  deserving, "  said  he.  "Rosenberg,  will  you  attend  to  this 
for  me?  Let  her  body  be  exposed  in  the  court-chapel  to-morrow. 
After  that,  lay  her  co  rest  in  the  imperial  vaults,  and  let  the  chapel 
be  in  readiness  to  i-eceive  my  own  remains."  f 

This  was  the  last  command  given  by  the  emperor.  From  that 
hour  he  was  nothing  more  than  a  poor,  dying  mortal,  whose  last 
thoughts  are  devoted  to  his  Maker.  He  sent  for  his  confessor,  and 
asked  him  to  read  something  appropriate  and  consolatory.  With 
folded  hands,  his  large  violet  eyes  reverently  raised  to  heaven,  he 
listened  to  the  holy  scriptural  words.  Sviddenly  his  countenance 
brightened,  and  his  lips  moved. 

"  Now  here  remain  faith,  hope,  and  love, "  read  the  priest. 

The  emperor  repeated  the  three  last  words,  "faith — hope" — and 
when  he  pronounced  the  word  "  love, "  his  face  was  illumined  with 
a  joy  which  had  its  source  far,  far  away  from  earth  ! 

Then  all  was  silent.  The  prayer  was  over,  and  the  dying  em- 
peror lay  motionless,  with  his  hands  folded  upon  his  breast. 

Presently  his  feeble  voice  was  heard  in  prayer.  "Father,  Thou 
knowest  my  heart— Thou  art  my  witness,  that  I  meant — to  do — well. 
Thy  will  be  done  !"  t 

Then  all  was  still.  Weeping  around  the  bed  stood  Lacy,  Rosen- 
berg, and  the  Archduke  Francis.  The  emperor  looked  at  them  with 
staring  eyes,  but  he  recognized  them  no  longer.  Those  beautiful 
eyes  were  dimmed  forever  ! 

Suddenly  the  silence  was  broken  by  a  long,  long  sigh. 

It  was  the  death- sigh  of  Joseph  the  Second  I 


Joseph  died  on  the  20th  of  February,  1790.  But  his  spirit  out- 
lived him,  and  survives  to  the  present  day.  His  subjects,  who  had 
so  misjudged  him,  deplored  his  loss,  and  felt  how  dear  he  had  been 
to  them.  Now  that  he  was  dead — now  that  they  had  broken  his 
heart,  they  grieved  and  wept  for  him.  Poets  sang  his  praises  in 
elegies,  and  wrote  epitaphs  laudatory  of  him  who  may  be  considered 
the  great  martyr  of  political  and  social  enlightenment. 

*  The  emperor's  own  words. 

t  Joseph's  own  words.— See  Hubner,  ii.,  p.  491. 

X  Ramshorn,  p.  410. 

(3) 


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